It's been a while since I last used this blogging site, so please, have patience and continue to read on. So much has happened over the last year or so; my dear mother passing on to her glory in October, 2011, a nephew on Charlies side, then a great uncle on my side, and just five months after my mother's demise, my younger sister, Barbara, passed away from Lou Gehrig's disease. It has not been an easy two years, believe me. But, God gives each of us another day, another sunrise to look up and praise His Holy Name! And that is what we should do every day that we can open our eyes and look up.

Fast forward to today, May 1, 2014. This morning is cloudy with bouts of sunshine. We just came through two days of lite to heavy rains, a long soaking rain. And that is just what it has done--soak into our basement. How depressing, to have to go down to the basement every couple hours and pick up the heavy, wet towels that soak up the water. Charlie bought a wet-vac a couple months ago to make it easier to clean up the water. I don't use it at night because it makes so much noise with it's powerful suction that I am afraid, especially at night, that I will disturb him when it's my turn to clean up the water.We generally take turns, his watch is at one o'clock and mine is at three a.m. It usually works out just fine. I use the sponge squeeze mop to clean it up. Charlie used the wet-vac because it doesn't disturb me. He is a much lighter sleeper and would wake up if I used it at night. But, you can bet that I use it during the day!

Last night about 8 p.m. we got a call from our daughter, Marie. She was very distraught. She came home from her work to a basement full of water, backed up to her basement steps. She didn't know it until she stepped down into the water which was several inches high and she slipped and fell, hitting her hip on the steps. Ouch! She's a trouper though and pulled out the wet-vac her hubby had bought last year and she began sucking up the water. She called us and was in tears because they had just bought new furniture for their basement "living room". The water was all under every piece of furniture and she "just knew" that the wooden tables and cabinets would be ruined now that they had been sitting in water for most of the day while she was at work. Charlie, of course, blamed it on himself for not going over to her house and check on standing water there. However, Marie did not blame her dad because she knew it wasn't his fault if the sump pump took this time of heavy rains to break down and stop working. I told Charlie what was happening over there and we shut off the television, put the dog out (she hates rainy days and gets a stubborn scowl on her cute little face) and we packed up our boots and raincoats and hopped in the truck.

Marie's husband, Tom, was on his way home from Frederick, Md. to help us all clean up the basement in his house. But, we got there in less than fifteen minutes so we were deep into cleaning up the water when Tom finally walked in the door. He jumped right in to finding out why the sump pump wasn't working because, ultimately, that was the reason the basement got flooded. When he pulled the pump from the sump hole it nearly split in two pieces. It had literally rusted and pulled apart so it wouldn't have worked anyway. Before he got home, Charlie had called him and told him the sump pump wasn't working at all. On his way home he stopped by several stores but they had all been sold out. Finally he stopped by another hardware store and found one. He brought it to the basement and proceeded to hook it up. In a few minutes it was doing the job it was bought for, thank God. Charlie, bless his heart, had been using a small pump for almost three hours, pumping the rising water out of the sump area. He was glad to see Tom come home to take over with a new sump pump.

In those three hours we had been at Marie and Tom's house, I had helped Marie move furniture around and vacuum the water from behind and beneath pieces of good furniture, back and forth, back and forth, until my back bothered me something fierce. Marie, dear girl, ran and got Charlie and me some bottled water for our thirst. Marie urged me to sit a few times until the pain in my back was gone. Feeling guilty because her dad had been standing the whole time holding the small handpump in the sump hole, causing his hips and legs to really bother him, I did not sit but a few minutes at a time. I continued to vacuum the still-wet spots on the floor.

Long story short, Marie and Tom thanked us several times for coming to help her. It was our (shudder) pleasure to be able to help our daughter and son-in-law get the water out of their basement. We were old hands at this chore for we had done it with every heavy, long rain we'd had over the past six and a half years since we'd moved into our dream home. We were the proverbial experts at moving water. We said our goodbyes and drove home to confront our own water problem. I prayed the whole way that there was no more water in our basement.

Once we were home, I let the dog out of her cage even though it was way past her bedtime. She'd been in her cage for three hours and needed to use the "facilities" outside. We did what needed done in our own basement and then got ready for a much needed rest for the night. I set the alarm for 3p.m. so I could get up and check the water level in the basement and clean up whatever water had come in.
Before I got into bed, I knelt beside our bed and I sent Jehovah a prayer of thanksgiving for watching over us on the wet roads, for Tom finding a sump pump, for God's hand of safety over us all, and just for giving us many blessings during this trying time. God is good. Always. So, I thanked Him once again, told Him I loved Him and thanked Him for being my Father. (A loving Father always looks after his children, and that's what God did for us.) I climbed into bed, said goodnight to Charlie, kissed him and dived into dreamland until 3a.m. I won't go into the getting up to sop up water again. I just did it without waking my overly tired husband. When I was finished cleaning up water for forty-five minites, I tippy-toed to the bedroom and eased myself back into bed. It was goodnight sweetheart and I was in dreamland until the six o'clock alarm went off so my husband could get ready to take his brother's van to be looked at.

Oh, well, another day, another blessing. I got my working clothes back on.

God bless you, my friends. Spring is finally coming. The farmers need the rains, but not all at once like it has been. We don't have much to look forward to except the wonderful sunshine that will warm the days and dry up the soil so the farmers and those energetic enough to make a garden can take their gardening tools out of the sheds and get to 'crackin'.

Hey, Folks, it's spring! Enjoy! Pack up your troubles in the old kit bag and smile, smile, smile! God has given you the gift of another spring day. Hallelujah! Amen!

Hello, my friends and family:

It's December 9, 2012. I have seen signs of Christmas for over a month now. The stores were the first to bring Christmas to their shelves. It was such a surprise to go into the pharmacy near me and see them taking all the Thanksgiving decorations down and putting up Christmas things the day following Thanksgiving. Wow! No Thanksgiving sentiment there. Full speed ahead on the Christmas goodies. The shelves were piling high with Christmas candies of all kinds, especially chocolates! My favorite. And oh, the beautiful little angels adorning the shelves, and the little toys like Christmas bears, nutcrackers, little soldiers in their best dress, tiny green pine trees with miniature red and silver bulbs, lights, replacement bulbs, ribbons and all sizes of red bows. It didn't take long to make the store into a festive shopping mall.

To me, it was way to early to start decorating the homes, inside or out on the first of December. But, hey! To each, his own. I personally don't decorate the house inside like I did years ago. I just got old and it was so much work, you might say, for nothing. No. I'm not a grinch! I love Christmas. The Spiritual side of it. I love to go to church and sing Christmas carols and worship the risen Jesus. He hasn't been a baby for over two thousand years! I do love to see the little sheds and mangers, and all the figurines that depict the Holy Family. I love the idea of a bright star showing the three kings the way to Bethlehem and the baby Jesus in the manger. I wonder what was in the thoughts of the three wealthy kings when they knelt before the tiny baby in the manger and the stable he was born in. What must they have thought when they entered the animals abode and saw the little family there. It's really something to think about. Little baby Jesus could have been anywhere from a few days old up to two years old when the three kings arrived.

Just think about it. The kings went to Herrod first, asking him where the king-baby was so that they could go worship him. King Herrod was so wrought up that after the three kings left, he ordered all newborn to two-year-old male children be slautered. He was bound to get the right one in all that killing. All of Israel wept over that carnage.

The three kings offered gifts of gold, frankensence and myrrh to the baby-king. God already had it planned so that Joseph and Mary would have money for their hasty trip out of Bethlehem to Egypt.  The angel of God appeared to Joseph in a dream and told him to flee to Egypt with his little family to save the baby's life. God is always ahead of whatever scheme the devil has concocted to harm His Son. Isn't He a marvelous God?

On to the shopping malls now. This is December 9th and you'd think that Christmas was tomorrow the way the stores are decorated. Everyone is out to grab your money with all that is offered in the way of technology. Even one and two-year-olds reach for electronic games and it doesn't take them long to learn to use them either. Money, money, money, is what it's all about now-a-days. Greed runs rampant, and more so every year! I literally hate what greed has done to the usually nice, polite public who goes into the stores to shop. Normal, happy people turn into selfish, greedy, mean people when it comes to finding the perfect gift. So, I don't do too much shopping, and I steer clear of Black Friday shopping and Green Mondays in the stores. No way! I'm staying home and watching the first Christmas movies on the teley. It's safer.

In honor of the day that Christ came into this world as a helpless baby, I will write here a poem I wrote years ago. It is short, but to the point.

Is This Really Christmas?

The air is peaceful, cold and still.
   The stars twinkle at night.
The cat slinks in the shadows, while
   birds twitter in the moonlight.
But...is this really Christmas?

Shoppers scurry downtown,
   purchases piling high.
Nervous voices chatter,
   weary as the hours fly by.
But...is this really Christmas?

Footsteps tread through the snow,
   a deliberate, peaceful walk.
Into church to kneel and worship.
   There is no need to talk.
This...is really Christmas.

       Evelyn B. Ryan

Chicken sitting

Hello, dear readers:

This past week I've been "chicken-sitting." Many years ago I had a small farmette in the outskirts of Bel Air but within one mile of Bel Air and almost into Forest Hill. We had 2.67 acres there. Just before we moved there a relative gave us four baby peeps. His grandchildren, who lived with him and his wife, grew tired of the peeps soon after Easter so he called and asked if I would take them.

We built a chicken house and got more chickens and in time collected fresh eggs every day. So, I am a very experienced "chicken sitter" of more than 25 years owning chickens. Then one year we had a big ice and snow storm and ice lay on the ground for six weeks or more. It was very dangerous just to go to the chicken house to feed them. I had to buy a pair of cleated golf shoes to get traction on the ice because the chicken house was downhill from the house. If I had broken a leg or arm slipping and sliding down the hill, then who would take care of the chickens. I couldn't expect my disabled husband or my aged mother to go feed them for me. So...I decided, after 25 years being the neighborhood "egg lady", to sell them and go out of the business.

I have certainly missed my chickens as well as the beautiful goats I used to own. So now, my next door neighbor decided last year to get herself some chickens to raise for the eggs. She was raised on a Virginia farm so I didn't need to tell her anything she already knew about raising chickens. I enjoyed watching those little peeps become good sized laying hens this year. Several times my neighbor and her family have gone camping for four or five days and asked me to "chicken sit". I was delighted. And...I got to keep all the eggs the hens layed while they were gone. What a bonus! Fresh, big brown eggs again. Plus, she gave me the produce from her garden while they were away so it wouldn't go to waste. Now, you can't get better than that keeping an eye on a bunch of good looking hens running around in the pen in her big yard.

In five days I am two and a half dozen eggs richer, plus at least a quart of cherry tomatoes to the good, two zucchini and five cucumbers. Wow! what a treat.

Gotta go now and put the chickens to bed for the night. See you again soon. 
Evelyn

The "c" spot

I found out this afternoon that the spot on the back of my right arm is early stage melanoma. It was just a small dark spot that came there in the last six months. Nothing unusual about it but still, it seemed strange that it suddenly appeared. It was flat to the skin, no bumps, no discoloration. But when the doctor examined my entire body for possible cancer spots, that was the one she took a biopsy of. Today came the dreaded call to inform me that it was definitely something to be concerned about. The doctor made an appointment immediately to have another larger sample excised to determine how much tissue is involved. I go see another cancer surgeon on May 11th at 9 a.m. Now I have something to be concerned about. I had a great aunt who died of massive melanoma of her face and head. I recall when I first met her as a very young child, seeing silvery-white scars on her forehead and on the backs of her hands. I thought she had gotten burned, that's how bad the scars looked to me. In my middle years I learned that Aunt Hazel died without a nose or lips on her face. The terrible disease just ate her up. What a horrible way to die. My dear belated mother had eight pre-cancerous spots taken off of her face over the years. I was with her with each trip to the doctors office. It seems it's my turn now to begin seeing the dermatologists more regularly now that I have my first "c" case. Heredity gets you whether you are looking for it or not. I'm wondering when I will have an asthma attack since that was also one of my dear mother's malady's. My dear grandfather died of emphysema due to accute asthma. Mother had to keep an inhaler with her at all times in her last few years of life. These things I've mentioned are only a few of the probable diseases on my mother's side that I may have inherited. I won't even mention those I've inherited from my dearly departed father. Between the two of them I have to take nine perscription medicines. I'm a "high maintenance" woman. God knew what He was doing when I married a soldier with good health insurance. I've put it to good use over our 55 years together. God is so good to us. I am not going to be one of those women who feels sorry for myself. I know in my heart that God is directing my path and it will be the right one for me. He does not make mistakes. I pray for the inner strength to walk the paths that are before me, keeping Jesus always in my sight. One never knows what is ahead, but God can see the end from the beginning so I must let Him be my Guide. The word for today is: PRAY, PRAY, PRAY! God bless you all. Evelyn

Easter Sunday

Tomorrow is Easter Sunday, 2012. Today, being Saturday, our son, Chuck, did his usual thing for Easter. He brought me and his sister, Marie, each a large pot of flowers. He spends his Easter with Betty, his wife. Perhaps they will go to one of her children's houses for Easter dinner. I don't know if they will attend Easter services or not. Marie and Tom, Charles and I, will attend the first service at 8:08 a.m. in Mountain Christian Church. I know it will be an enlightening service. I always look forward to services to see what Pastor Ben has planned for us this year. He makes the services interesting. Then afterwards, we will go home until noon, when we will then go to Marie and Tom's house for our Easter dinner. I always love going to her house because I enjoy her company so much. She's a great cook and has so many interesting things to do and look at in her beautiful home. I'm so proud of her for the way she embraces life. She is kind, considerate and loving toward everyone. God answered all my prayers when He gave her to us.

It is my prayer this year that God will bless all the members of our family, wherever they are. I wish the best for each member and hope they embrace the love of our great God, Jehovah and His Son, our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. Now, I also ask blessings on all my writer friends in Mountain Christian Church who have helped me so much in my quest of writing God's Word.
I ask blessings also on all of our service men who place themselves in danger every day to protect our right to freedom. I pray they all come home safely to their own families who are missing them this Easter. And last, but hardly least, I ask prayer and blessings on our great country of the United States of America. May the government (Bibically expressed mountains) bow before our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, before it is too late. May we all, Americans, pray as one and acknowlege God and ask His blessings on us once again. In so doing, He will bless our nation as he has done in the past. He will be our God and we will be His children, as it was meant to be. Amen.

God bless each one of you as you read this. Have a wonderful, safe, loving Easter, 2012.

Death to Life

You do not grieve like the rest of mankind, who have no hope. For we believe that Jesus died and rose again, and so we believe that God will bring with Jesus those who have fallen asleep in him. 1 Thessalonians 4:13b-14 (NIV)

I stood by her bed, watching the labored breathing, her upper body moving lightly in rhythm with her breath. I gently wiped the froth that came up from her tortured lungs as her heart struggled to pump oxygen through her blood. She reminded me of a freight train straining up a mountain side, chugging hard, sending up black smoke into the clouds.

One more gaping breath and the heart stilled forever. Her skin took on a yellow-grey pallor, no pink at all. This was what death looked like as it claimed my mother's precious life.

Numbness gripped my heart. God helped me to force back the tears and steel myself to do what was necessary. My time with grief would come, but not now. Kissing her cold face, I told her I loved her one last time.

Jesus comforted me then with hope. He reminded me that I would see her again. She was alive--with Him--as He had planned from the beginning.

I imagined her wonderful reception at the gates of heaven, walking into he outstretched arms of Jesus. Behind Him stood her own mother, Ella Mae, who died when she was three. She had always longed to see her mother's face, but there had been no pictures of her. Her father, four sisters, and three brothers greeted her, smiles on their faces, arms open in welcome. Mourning had just turned to joy! At last, Mother was Home.

Father, may we have the hope of a glorious reunion as we go through this life and head toward heaven's door.

(c) 2012 Evelyn B. Ryan