Majoring in Boys

Bob came to the office yesterday for no apparent reason other than to see who was around and visit a little.

The place that I work is located in the middle of farming country and Bob is one of the neighbors. Bob is one of those delightful old codgers that you wish there were more of. He is the one that takes care of things if you go on a trip. He is the one that calls to let you know who the newest deaths, births, and injuries are. He always has a joke in his pocket and loves to kid around with people. Granted, you hear some of the same jokes and same stories over and over, but with Bob, you don’t really mind it.

Bob calls occasionally and every time his opening greeting is “Is this the sec’atary?” I always have to smile at his drawl. He comes by the office occasionally and every time we have to talk about how times have changed. He doesn’t like Wal-Mart. “Everything is cheap!” he says, “They don’t carry Stetsons; they don’t have [unknown brand] shoes; they don’t have suits of clothes. It’s all cheap! I remember when you’d go up around the square and go to one store to get your shoes, to another store to get your hat, and to another store to get your clothes. And if you didn’t like what one store had, you’d go to the next’n.”

Bob is very disgruntled that no one has manners anymore. “Why, if you hold the door open for a woman, she’s liable to smack ya,” he says, “The children are disrespectful; no more ‘sir’ and ‘ma’am’, they’ve taken over the schools. Why I remember when…” and on he goes. He was telling me yesterday that he’s got pictures at home of when “they hung three black boys on the cedar tree in town.” I think he’d still support hanging people because then people would behave themselves. He might be right.

So yesterday after we’d discussed how the world is in shambles, we went on to other topics. I told him that starting next week I won’t be in the office in the mornings anymore because I’ll be in school. He wanted to know where I’m going and what I’m majoring in. I told him I’m going to WKU, and I’m majoring in accounting. “Oh,” he said seriously, “I thought maybe you’d be majoring in Boys.” I wasn’t expecting a comeback like that at all and it yanked a laugh right out of me. He, of course, got a big kick out of it. So then he proceeded to go off on some tangent about how when you first start a relationship it’s like a broom. At first, it’s all nice and new and you do a good job, but after a while the broom gets worn down and you don’t do such a good job. His conclusion on the matter was “Well, you’ll do fine. You’ll get a good’n.” I just shook my head.

Preview of Coming Distractions

So, school starts on Monday. I’m not ready, but it’s starting anyway.

My first class of each and every day will be College Algebra at 8 a.m. *gasp* Yeah, that will mean getting out of bed earlier than I have consistently gotten up since…I don’t know, probably since I worked with Dad when I was 17. I haven’t been honest with myself about what time I’ll actually have to get up. I just can’t bear to think about it yet. If parking weren’t such an issue at WKU then I wouldn’t have to make sure I get there so early. I may have to get up even earlier than I did when working with Dad. *sob*

I got into this particular algebra class compliments of Kris. She had the same teacher last semester and was convinced that I needed to take her class. I got up at 5 a.m. on the morning that I was eligible to sign up for classes to try to squeak into the classes I wanted. Alas, due to my lowly Freshman status, her class was already full of students with more seniority, so Kris went to class that morning and asked her if she would admit me into her class even if it was full. The teacher graciously gave permission. Now, Kris lobs an occasional “Sharon, don’t you dare ruin my reputation!” at me. So now I have to try to measure up grade-wise and I can’t even get into my first accounting class without passing this one. How comforting!

I have mixed feelings about algebra. I (secretly) enjoyed my Intermediate Algebra class, even though I fussed a great deal about the class. It was quite satisfying to look at a jumble of letters, numbers, exponents, etc. and be able to solve that problem. But I felt like I had learned all the algebra there is to learn when I finished that class. I have a feeling I’ll fuss a great deal about this class. I just hope that I can enjoy this class too, at least secretly. If only I could keep my head together and make those pesky little negative signs behave themselves, my life would be a lot more error-free.

My second class on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays will be German I. It’s a kind of copout class. I think the class will be easier for me because I can understand Dutch. If I didn’t have to work as much as possible, I would maybe try Spanish, which would be much more useful, but right now I’m just in survival mode. Oh well, maybe I’ll go live abroad for a season and be a Swiss or German accountant. I liked Switzerland better when I was there. Then I could have one of those famous Swiss bank accounts. : - )

My German teacher has good evaluations and subbed in Kris’s German class once. She thought he was a good teacher. One of the trickiest things will be juggling the textbook back and forth with Jolene. She will be taking German at South Campus on Tuesdays and Thursdays, so it’ll be a trick to make sure that neither one of us ends up without it when we need it. Once we’re done with this class, Kris, Jolene, and I will be able to speak the same foreign language. Coolness!

My third class on Mondays and Wednesdays will be Meteorology. That’s right, Meteorology. I’m not sure either what I’m doing in a class like that. But it fits my science with a lab requirement and seems somewhat more tolerable than say Biology or Chemistry or Physics. Physics would be a requirement if I decided to go out on a limb and go for something like Pre-Dentistry. Does not appeal. (Dentistry appeals but not Physics.) Never mind that I don’t have a clue what Physics actually is (or are?), I just know it has to be bad. Therefore, as a process of elimination, I narrowed it down to Astronomy and Meteorology; I chose Meteorology.

Several weeks after I had registered in this particular Meteorology class, Kris ran into a former classmate of hers that told her that he was planning on teaching a Meteorology class, the one right before mine in particular. Kris told me that I need to enroll in his class because he is so nice and had some negative things to say about my teacher. Considering that I already had my class schedule in place, I chose to leave things as they were even while wishing that I could be in his class. Kris issued dire predictions that I’ll be sorry! Then just the other evening, I got an e-mail from a man that I didn’t recognize as being one of my professors. I looked up my schedule online and, lo and behold, this very man is teaching my class. {gleeful chortle} I’m so thankful I didn’t mess with the schedule. I’d be pretty disgruntled right now if I had.

From the tone of his e-mails, he’ll be a pretty cool teacher. He even has his cell number on the syllabus with “text messages welcome” next to it. How cool is that? I think we are his first real class, so just call us the Guinea Pigs.

My fourth class is on Tuesdays and Thursdays after algebra. I’m rather disgusted about this one: Basic Computer Literacy. Do you think they have a CLEP test for this one? Noooo…more tuition dollars. Unnecessary tuition dollars in my opinion! According to the syllabus, topics will include “computing concepts, operating systems, Word, Excel, and PowerPoint.” I use these applications daily at work. Why should I have to pay over $500 to prove that I can use them?? I’m predicting that I won’t get much out of this class. Fortunately, most of the stuff is done out of class and we only meet on test days.

The teacher is a bit of an unknown for me. His reviews were a conglomeration of people that disliked him intensely and other that liked him, so I guess I’ll just have to find out.

Mondays and Wednesdays will be awful backpack-wise. I’ll have to carry at least 4 textbooks as well as tablets, folders, and other supplies. My back wants to spasm just thinking about it. I’m very doubtful that I’ll even be able to get all of the books into my backpack. I may have to carry an additional handbag.

So these are the things that are churning around in my mind. I’m anxious to get on with classes and make some progress. At the same time, I’m dragging my feet and wanting at least another month of freedom. But ready or not, here it comes.

Routine

I am a creature of habit. I am comfortable with routine. New situations, new jobs, new people usually make me a bit uneasy. Oh, okay, sometimes a lot uneasy. If I can make it past the initial breaking-in period, I find a kind of new comfort zone that I can live with, although it always takes a longer period of time before it truly becomes a comfort zone.

The decision to go to college was a momentous decision for me. For many years, I thought that I might like to go, but having only an eighth grade education served as a huge doubting point for me. So I took the route of getting my GED, going to the technical school, and getting a diploma as an accounting assistant. I finished the course at the end of 1997 but didn’t officially graduate until the spring of 1998. I thought I was done with education.

The next six years led to a range of jobs held simultaneously that left me exhausted and tired of that pace of life. This exhaustion coupled with boredom at work led to my enrollment in college.


My Old Routine

My first two semesters were all late afternoon and evening classes. I liked the schedule simply because I could pretty routinely get 35 to 37 hours of work in, down from 45 hours a week. My income didn’t suffer as much as I feared it might when I made the decision to go to school. It was an extremely hectic year. My weekends were a marathon of homework, housework, yard work, laundry, and grocery shopping. I survived on probably an average of five and a half to six hours of sleep.

I took a summer class through the month of June. It only met two nights a week, but because of cramming a 16-week English course into five weeks, the reading, writing, and research involved kept me just as busy as I had been. But in it all, I found a certain comfort zone and survived.

My Current Routine

My high levels of exhaustion finally caught up with me. The first week or two after my summer class, I think my body went through a period of crashing. By 8 or 9 in the evening, I was completely shot and just wanted to go to bed. I often wouldn’t allow myself to go that early because I felt like I would just end up wasting all of my precious free time.

My days at work seem so incredibly long. I don’t have to leave early for classes so my 9-hour days absolutely drag. I have so much more time to do the things that I was doing in shorter periods of time, leaving blocks of time in which I just sit and think or twiddle my thumbs. I wonder how I ever lived with the boredom for the last two years before homework became the focus of all my down time at work.

To a certain degree, I welcome the chance to just sit and dwell on things or bring small projects to work on or read, but I also sit and think of all the things at home that I need to do and it bugs me to be idle.

Something that I’ve noticed is that during school I think of things that I want to write about and it becomes almost a necessity to sit down and just type it out. It becomes therapeutic. Now that I have more free time, I still think of things that I would like to write about, but maybe because my stress level is not as high, I don’t feel the need to get it out like I do during school. Hmmm.

So my current routine is to twiddle my way through my work days and then pick up the pace after work desperately trying to get some deep cleaning done, dresses made, yard work done, and other neglected projects completed. I’m back to my short nights because of projects I get involved in.

My Future Routine

This fall I will start taking morning classes five days a week. It’s going to shoot my routine all to pieces, but I think that I’ll like taking classes in the morning. I won’t have to fight the end-of-the-day letdown that would try to put me to sleep in some of my evening classes. I had to carry No Doz in my backpack to fight it.

I will be able to do homework in the early evenings or even at work if I have some down time. Then if I can discipline the night owl within me, I may even be able to get a little more sleep this fall. The downside of morning classes is, of course, the reduced income, but there is something within me that really doesn’t care right now. Recently, I’ve wanted nothing more than to just quit work and go to school. I’m sure once I suffer through the inevitable case of Severely Reduced Income Shock, I’ll care.

It will be an interesting change of pace even if it makes me uneasy. I think that in the long run I’ll like this schedule better.

Customer Service

When Kris, Martin, Jolene, and I were in Catlett, VA a couple of weeks ago, one thing I wanted to do while there was go to the IKEA store. I’d never been there, but I’d looked through their online catalog. They have some really nifty stuff.

Martin had driven out so he could pick up some fuel tanks in Maryland that he purchased off ebay, so I knew that if I wanted anything from IKEA this would be my chance to have it hauled back. Kris and I found some small cheap computer carts that we could use in our sewing room instead of the big tables that have been annoying us recently. We purchased them along with some drawers to go with them. We put them in the back of Martin’s truck for transport on Monday, and Kris & I flew home.

We had wrapped the boxes in black garbage bags to try to keep them dry, but to our dismay, when the boxes were unloaded in Kentucky one of the boxes had soaked up a lot of water and two of the pieces on one desk had soaked up the water like a sponge. I knew that if they got wet the particleboard that the items were made of would swell and they sure did. The lamination on the outside came loose as well.

I considered trying to assemble the cart using the swelled pieces, but it was cheap enough that I figured if we couldn’t purchase replacement parts, it wouldn’t be that expensive to just have them ship a new one. I placed a call to the store we had been to and explained my situation. At first the customer service rep was rather snotty. She wanted to clarify in vivid detail that I had purchased it from them as it should have been and that it was because of our transportation that the item was defective. I calmly acknowledged that it was indeed how it happened and that I was merely looking into seeing what replacement parts would cost versus getting an entirely new item. She took my information and said that someone would call me within 48 hours. By the time the conversation was over, she had changed her attitude considerably.

Two days later, I received a call from IKEA and the lady confirmed the information that I had given in the original call. She confirmed which pieces I needed and said that they would ship them out. I inquired about the cost, and she informed me that as long as they were shippable parts there would be no cost. I was almost speechless. I couldn’t manage much more than a thank-you before she hung up.

Five days later, I arrived at home to find a large package propped against the door; inside the package were my free parts. I am still amazed. Now that, my friends, is Customer Service.

Blurbs

A few blurbs from today:

~We may have a solution for my uncovered absences from work in the mornings for this next semester. Long term or not? Unknown.

~I paid $33.10 to fill my car up this afternoon. Did you catch that?? $33.10!! I remember a time when I could fill it up with $10-$12. I’ve only owned the car for 6.75 years. Gas prices just shouldn’t triple in seven short years. I just can’t stand it! The number of miles I drive will at least triple when I start school. And my hours will be cut in half. I don’t think the math works out in that equation.

~I took off work two hours early to get to the bookstore on campus before it closed. I picked Jolene up at home and Kris met us at the bookstore. I spent $245.55 on books, and that doesn’t take into account the German textbook and dictionary that I’m getting from Kris at half of what she paid. It’s like a shock of ice cold water every time! I know there are others that have it worse than that, and I’m sure that it’s not the most I’ll ever spend in a semester. The name of the bookstore should be The Great Rip-Off.

~We went to O’Charley’s to eat. Kris had finished her salad and, after picking through and pulling out all the goodies (cheese and chicken), pushed the dregs to the edge of the table for the waiter to pick up the next time he came by. As we were sitting there talking, Jolene spotted one remaining goody in the salad and stabbed it with her fork gleefully. She put it in her mouth and bit down. She immediately started spitting what she had thought was chicken but turned out to be a fresh mushroom into her hand. She grabbed her cloth napkin and started scrubbing at her tongue. It made for a delightful little scene.

~Shopping for shoes when you need them is no fun. It’s way more fun to buy shoes when you don’t need them.

~Kris and I had a “twin” moment today. We were outside waiting to be seated at the restaurant. We were both fiddling with our keys and at the exact same moment dropped them to the pavement. Jolene, sitting across from us, looked at us oddly as we sat there laughing and said, “Well, why’d you do that?” The unexplainable.

~I love stores that have a no-questions-asked return policy. “Buyer’s remorse” and “The charisma just wasn’t there” don’t really sound good when returning stuff. Kudos to JC Penny and Bath & Body Works.

Sunday School AND Children's Class

This just wasn’t my day.

Oh, it started out okay. I woke up on time. I made it to church on time. I was seated well in advance of the first song. But that is where things began to go awry.

Rosita came into the sanctuary and sat next to me. We had been sitting there for a few minutes when the Sunday School Superintendent stepped into the pew behind us and said he needed a favor. Not a good sign. “I need some teachers for the Preschool class. Would you mind?”

My natural reaction was to scan through list of excuses, but none fit the occasion. I eyed Rosita wondering what she would say. Her attitude was the one that I should have been sporting. A nonchalant “Sure” from her sealed the deal. It never even occurred to me to go get the book to see what was in store for us, but she went after the book.

So the time for Sunday School arrived and we made our way to the nook that the Preschool table sits in. We had approximately thirteen students of which only two were girls. So imagine, eleven little boys around one table. As we were trying to make enough room for everyone, one Helpful Little Boy was determined that we should set up another table, but we squeezed and put people on corners and managed to get everyone seated.

I don’t deal with little kids enough that I can ever get used to their unpredictability in a short period of time; therefore, when I am in a teacher situation, I usually avoid asking questions that everyone has an answer to. (I don’t mind it as much if there isn’t another adult around to watch me make a fool out of myself if I don’t quite know how to deal with a child.) But Rosita…she is much better at this kind of thing.

The lesson was on the man at the pool of Bethesda so Rosita asked if any of them had ever been sick. Of course, they all had a story of when they had been sick or even in the hospital. The danger in asking those kinds of questions is that everyone wants to tell their story, and they want to tell it first. So when do you decide it’s time to cut them off? I think it would be a hoot to be able to take the kids and just let them tell stories sometime (see what you could get out of them), but when all of those parents are expecting you to teach their kids something Valuable, you feel kind of pressured to have Sunday School.

Anyway, Rosita asked if they had offering and many of them did, BUT they weren’t used to taking the offering first thing. They always wait until the end. So we got the books passed out, then she started reading the story while I stood on the other side of the table behind a particularly Unruly Boy that couldn’t keep his hands to himself and was sitting next to a Visiting Little Girl that wasn’t aggressive enough to tell him to bug off. There were too many dollar bills being batted around so Rosita just gathered them up, even though we didn’t have a clue where the offering container was. Helpful Little Boy offered to go to the kitchen to help Rosita find where the money container was, but she declined.

Halfway through the story, Helpful Little Boy interrupted her to tell her that his Little Brother and his Cousin were talking. She frowned a little and told the two little boys they need to be quiet and listen. “Oh, it’s okay,” Little Brother said, “We were just talking quiet so we could still hear.” I wanted to crack up! She reiterated the need for silence and went on. See, that’s what I have a hard time handling.

So we finished the lesson, colored, stopped Unruly Little Boy from coloring on Visiting Little Girl’s book, gathered Smarties wrappers from Unruly Little Boy, told them bathroom and drink breaks could wait a few more minutes, distributed verses and stickers, dismissed the children, and cleaned up. We returned to our seats in the sanctuary with me being somewhat dazed at the whole experience.

The sermon started when suddenly the man sitting in front of me reached back with a note. I took it from him and it said, “Will you two have children’s class tonight?”

I wanted to return it with and emphatic “No! I have just been traumatized by the little munchkins!” I showed it to Rosita hoping she would come up with a reason that we, in fact, could not have children’s class. Where is my servant’s attitude when I need it most?? Rosita looked at it, thought a bit, and said, “It shouldn’t be that hard.”

Okay, it’s one thing to handle the unpredictability of children in Sunday School where their parents can’t see how unqualified you are, but in front of the whole church?? I’ve watched grown men (and women, for that matter), who have had children of their own, falter at the response of children in public. And they think that I want to do this?

I sent the note back with a commitment but not before letting him know that I’d just been traumatized. After church, Rosita and I made arrangements for me to stop by her place this afternoon and went on our separate ways to partake of our noontime meals.

I moaned about my dilemma at lunch, and Kris, ever the teacher at heart, deemed it time to use an Arch book. Arch books are Bible stories that are written in poem form. After we got back to our place, Kris sat down and read The Braggy King of Babylon to me. I would have been satisfied with reading the story and being done with it, but NOOOO, that wasn’t good enough for Kris. She thought it needed to be acted out. “Children LOVE stuff like that! They remember those kinds of things.”

I reminded her of our motto of “All for one and one for all” and begged her into helping me. We went to Rosita’s place and gave our pitch. She liked the idea although the idea to get her sisters to help bombed because they were scheduled to sing after Children’s Class. We agreed to meet at the church at 5:30 and raced back home to gather props and coerce more actors.

Our first stop was at Mom’s house to get Jolene. She was in bed and wasn’t too keen on being dragged out of bed to help prepare for Children’s Class. She crawled out of bed issuing threats and making declarations the whole way, but at least she got out of bed. Then on to Martin’s house to find ourselves a King.

We decided to maximize on Mom’s Persuasive Powers and took her with us to recruit Martin. We crossed the road and descended upon his front door, only to find it had rudely been locked by Colton. After gaining an entrance, we pulled out all stops to get Martin on board. He never really agreed to it, but accompanied us to rehearsal, kicking and screaming the whole way. (We love Martin! He makes such a wonderful actor if he just allows himself to let go.)

Rosita had the opening comments and read the verse “Pride goeth before destruction and an haughty spirit before a fall.” She had barely read the verse when Shane piped up and said, “That’s a long verse!” See what I mean about the unpredictability?

Kris read the story. I doubled as a “tall, dark man” and a servant, and Jolene and Rosita were servants as well. Things went pretty well. Martin forgot only two of his four lines, Jolene stood on one end of the tablecloth she was supposed to dramatically snap over top of our banquet (communion) table, and Kris said “he trembled in his head” instead of “he trembled in his bed”, but I doubt that many people noticed anything except that Martin had to fish in his pocket for his lines.

So I shall publicly acknowledge that I am ever so grateful for the help from my siblings. If it hadn’t been for Kris, who knows what Rosita and I would have come up with? If it hadn’t been for Martin, who would have been our king? If it hadn’t been for Jolene, who would have helped Rosita and I gasp at our beastly king, snapped (or not) our tablecloth for us, and given us that general “strength in numbers” comfort? Just imagine how much better things could have been if Sara and Alvin had been here too.

Yes, I love my siblings. Life without them would be dull, lonely, and boring.

Note to self: Do not sit behind the Sunday Evening committee during church

Memorable Storms

My last post got me to thinking about some of my most memorable storms, some that were spectacular, some that gave me a bit of fear, and some that had bad endings.

On a Trip

One of the first storms that I remember was a storm that occurred during a trip to Michigan to visit Grandpas. I don’t remember my exact age but it must have been between 6 and 9. We had a Suburban (long before SUVs were all the rage), and Kris & I were in our usual spot—the third seat. We had fallen asleep; Kris was on the seat and I was on the floor.

I think the thing that woke me up was Kris’s attempt to put a pair of sunglasses on my face. I’m not sure if she was trying to keep the lightning from waking me up or to keep me from being blinded from it if I did wake up, but nonetheless, I woke up with a pair of sunglasses on. It was a fierce storm, and it was raining so hard Mom could almost not see to drive. I remember feeling a small bit of fear in my heart. The vehicle was rocking from the wind, the lightning was so constant it was almost as if it was broad daylight when I think it was really evening or even night. But Mom drove on unflappably and I knew that as long as Mom was driving, we would probably be okay.

Tornados

The year I was in the fifth grade, we had a series of tornados that ripped thru the area. We go thru tornado-watch weather every year, but I think that year was a particularly bad one for tornados actually doing their thing. I don’t remember that much about the actual storms themselves, but I remember the aftermath. My teacher borrowed her parents van, and we all got into the van and went to town to view the storm damage. There was a lot of it, but the thing that has always stuck out in my mind was the 2x4 that had impaled a brick wall. I think I could almost take you to the very house that had been impaled.

The Plains of Texas

When I was 17, Dad, Martin, Alvin, and I drove out to California to go to the church furniture factory that Dad was working for. Alvin and I were his helpers at the time; I was the main driver (Alvin was too young to drive) and Alvin was his pew installation helper, which would explain why I got to go on that particular trip. We took I-40 all the way out. We had stopped for food or fuel somewhere in Texas. It was probably around 8 or 9 at night, and we were driving straight thru the night. As we were preparing to get back on the highway, a huge wind hit bringing lots of dust with it. We got back on the road and it seemed that the storm just grew in strength. We were driving a loaded dual-wheeled truck with a crew cab, but I remember the truck rocking from the force of the wind. I know there was incredible lightning to go with the wind but I don’t remember if it ever rained. The lightning seemed so stark because we were going thru a very deserted stretch of highway with little oncoming traffic and no streetlights in sight. It would go from being able to only see in the sphere of the headlights to complete daylight and being able to see for a very long distance. It was a magnificent storm.

That night also stands out in my mind because it was later that night that I had one of those defining moments in life. It was the wee hours of the morning and I was driving. Dad, Martin, and Alvin were all sleeping. We were still traveling thru the plains of Texas and the exits were few and far between. I was driving along when I noticed that my fuel gauge was hovering around the quarter tank mark. I made a mental note that it was time for fuel and switched tanks. I was horrified to see that Dad or Martin had run that tank down to less than an eighth of a tank. I switched back to the quarter tank and hoped for an exit quickly. I watched that tank dwindle down with no exit in sight. I switched tanks again, hoping that I had been mistaken about the amount of fuel left in that tank. I hadn’t been.

I finally saw an exit coming up and saw that it had one lonely gas station. I pulled off at the exit and into the gas station only to find that it was closed. (Oh, I forgot to mention that some sort of brake pump had gone out at some point during the night and it was all that I could do to get that truck stopped. I would literally stand on the brake with all my might to get small results. I learned to approach things slowly.) As I had gotten off the exit, the truck was beginning to sputter and had been doing some chugs even before I saw the exit. My nerves were shot!! I couldn’t handle the pressure of no fuel and bad brakes any longer. I had awakened Dad earlier as things were beginning to take a turn for the worse and he had told me to just make sure that we got off at the first exit and had gone back to sleep. Well, I’d had enough and woke Dad back up and told him that I was done—couldn’t take it anymore! We swapped places and he got back on the interstate to see if we could make it to the next exit.

I was envisioning sitting in the middle of a Texas desert until morning, which was several hours away. I desperately tried to sleep to take my mind off the situation. Nothing doing. He switched tanks back and forth trying to keep it on the tank with the most fumes. Somehow (I think God carried us there) we made it to the next exit. We got there and pulled up to the pump, only to find that it was only equipped with the big semi nozzles that wouldn’t fit into our small tank opening. We had to have fuel, so Dad put the nozzle up to the hole and tried to get as much in as he could. It ended up making a royal mess on the ground but there was nothing else that we could do. I made up my mind that night that I would never come that close to running out of gas if I could help it. The fuel light in my car rarely gets to show its colors, and on the rare occasion that it does come on, it doesn’t shine for long.

The Salt Flats of Utah

On the way back from California, we crossed the Salt Flats in Utah. The wind was blowing so badly that there were numerous tractor-trailers and RVs on their sides. We stopped at a rest area part way thru and walking against the wind was a real challenge. I rather enjoyed the feel of the wind. That same day, we saw a rainbow somewhere east of Utah.

The Hail Storm of 1998

The storm that has had the biggest impact on me personally was the hailstorm that occurred on April 16, 1998.

At that time, I was working for the Postal Service as a Data Conversion Operator (I typed for a living, as did Sara and Kris) in Bowling Green. It was the day after taxes had been filed, which made for a busier than usual day. I remember walking into work that day. The sky was fairly clear and the sun was shining. I don’t remember what time I was clocking in at the time, but it was probably sometime between 1:00 and 3:00. I clocked in and went to my desk, got my walkman out and put on an audio book or music, and started typing.

I don’t remember all of the times or exactly how everything transpired, but within an hour one of our supervisors made an announcement that there was a tornado-watch in effect and that we were all going to have to gather in the hall. There were probably 250 to 300 people working at the time. People got out of their seats, and everyone headed for the hall. There was, of course, a bottleneck at the double doors leading into the hall, which made things very slow.

Suddenly, our most unflappable supervisor came running from the break room at the other end of the hall thru the crowd hollering for everyone to move faster. He ran to the supervisor’s station and got on the microphone and started saying more of the same. Now, if he was in a state of near panic, everyone knew that it must be serious. It turns out that he had been in the break room watching the live coverage from the local TV station. They had a camera crew that was outside covering the storm live when suddenly the camera crew realized that the tornado was headed their way. I think they lost the camera feed but still had audio feed as the crew dove for cover (I’m sketchy on exactly what happened). When he saw the clouds they had been filming and their subsequent dive for cover, he knew it was more than just an idle warning, which put him into action.

We all crowded into the hall, bathrooms, and some people had to go into other doorways just off the hall. We were all just sitting there when suddenly here came Mr. Unflappable again and said, “Everyone, DOWN!” We were already almost all on the floor but the few standing people got down and we all just huddled there for a bit and then it hit. There was such a beating on the building (it was a metal building) that even though there were some hysterical women, we really couldn’t hear them because the hail on the building was so loud. At the time we didn’t have a clue what it was and I remember thinking that it sure wasn’t what I expected a tornado to sound like.

The awful racket continued for several minutes before it finally dissipated. After the supervisor’s were certain that the danger was past, they sent us back to our seats to sit in the dark. We had lost our power and only had emergency lighting. They wouldn’t let anyone out of the building for the time being. We sat there for at least an hour or so before they finally said we could go outside. We walked out into the drizzle and sadly beheld our cars. Almost every car on the lot looked like it could make itself at home in a junkyard. Windshields looked like they had been hit with baseball bats; side and back windows were busted out. The cars looked like someone had gone crazy with bats on them.

Kris, Sara, and I walked out together to survey our cars. My car still had its side windows but the windshield was smashed and the back window was holding on by tint only. There was glass everywhere and the rain left water standing in the car. Kris’s back window and driver’s side window were nothing but mere shards and her windshield was smashed. She found a piece of hail in her car that after an hour or so was still the size of a golf ball. According to reports, the hail had been the size of a baseball in that part of town. You could tell what part of town people had been in according to the size of the dents in their car; our side of town had the biggest hail. Sara’s back window was gone as well and the windshield was smashed but I think all of her side windows were still intact. All three car bodies had been pummeled.

Martin brought his big flatbed truck and a trailer with his Explorer on it and loaded all three cars up and took them home. We drove his Explorer home. For once, Bowling Green didn’t look like much more than a ghost town.

We had to take our cars to get them assessed at a large tobacco warehouse that had been set up with claims adjustors. The scene inside was unbelievable. Brand new vehicles from car lots were lined up inside this warehouse waiting for car haulers to come get them and haul them away to be crushed. They didn’t salvage anything! Not electronics, engines, tires, seats…nothing!! It made me so sick. I would have been willing to take one of those badly beaten vehicles and replace the glass and drive it. Brand new, I tell you!

Sara’s car had enough value that it was worth fixing completely, but Kris’s and mine ended up being totaled. We went to junkyards and got the parts necessary to make them drivable. Kris still drives that car. The Taurus that I was driving at the time (Mom and Dad’s) went to my brother when I purchased my own car. For several years, hail damaged cars were the norm. I still occasionally see a hail car (besides Kris’s), but not very often.

That storm left me feeling a little bit betrayed. I’d never really been affected by a storm before. At least I didn’t feel as if I’d been singled out by the storm because it affected thousands of people and many of them worse than me. I was glad that I didn’t live in Bowling Green. People had to wait for a long time to get their roofs fixed; at least it was only my car and nothing else. According to this article, the damage was estimated at $500 million.

Lightning Struck

Then there was the storm in 2002 that gave me a new respect for lightning.

Kris, Sara, and I were at some social function at one of the local churches. The evening was winding down, and we could see that a storm was approaching because of increasing wind and lightning. We decided to head for home and try to make it before the storm actually hit.

The wind and lightning really picked up on our drive home. I don’t remember much of the storm itself or even if it did rain or just blow over. I actually think it might have blown over. That is why we were so surprised to find out the following day that our house had been hit by lightning.

Our computers all had surge protectors on them, but what we didn’t think about protecting was the router on the network. It came in through the router and branched out. All three of our computers were hit in some way but they weren’t total losses. We had to replace parts here and there. The lightning fried Sara’s fax machine, my sewing machine, garage door openers, and the air conditioner. It seems like there may have been several other things but I’ve forgotten.

I still enjoy lightning, but I now prefer to enjoy it from a distance. I’m a true believer in surge protectors, but still don’t manage to always keep everything protected. I hope it never comes back to haunt me.

The Heavens Declare the Glory of God

Meteor Showers

I was reading some stuff on the Internet last night and came across some information saying that there were supposed to be meteor showers on the night of August 12. It said the best time to see the display was around 2 a.m. I wasn’t real sure if that meant 2 a.m. at the beginning of August 12 or the beginning of August 13.

It was my usual late hour so I went outside to stare up at the sky to see if I could see anything. Nothing. As I turned to go inside, I saw Mom & Dad leave to head to Michigan for a reunion. I went in and called Mom to tell her of the possible meteor showers.

I had never seen a falling star until I was in my very late teens, maybe even my early twenties. I think the first one I saw was late one night after getting off work at a convenience store that I worked at. I’ve always been thrilled at the sight of a falling star, the few times I’ve seen them. The first opportunity I had to see a meteor shower was probably in 2001 or 2002. I almost always hear about them (and Northern Lights) after the fact, so I was excited that for once I heard about it before the occurrence. It was a spectacular show. I’ve always wanted to see another one.

I went on to bed but set my nap alarm to get up around 2:30. Surprisingly enough, I woke up immediately after the alarm went off. I went outside and stood there for about five minutes peering up at the sky. Nothing. I figured that I had heard about it one night too late (again) and was just turning to go back inside when I saw a streak go across the sky. I was thrilled. So I just plopped down in the grass and lay there on my back gazing at the sky temporarily wishing that I lived out in the country with no streetlights around.

The meteors were so few and far between that I gave up after awhile. I have a feeling that the shower was actually supposed to occur the night before because I only saw about six of them in the thirty minutes that I was out. I was delighted to have seen the few that I did but disappointed to have missed the bigger show.

Lightning

I decided that today was the dreaded day for weeding the flowerbeds. My back is shot and my hands are sore and a slight shade of brown despite repeated washings, but the flowerbeds are looking much better.

The day started out very hot, sunny, dusty, and just plain yucky. I can’t even put into words exactly how badly I didn’t want to be out there, but grass was becoming more prominent than the plants so it had to be done. I normally don’t mind (too much) working outside in the yard but the weather we’ve been having recently has just gotten me down.

I had been working for about forty-five minutes when I noticed that there were some stormy-looking clouds in the west. “Bring it on!” I thought without much hope. The clouds slowly came closer and closer and soon I began to hear thunder. Music to my ears! The wind began to pick up, and I soon perceived that, indeed, the storm was going to grace us with its presence. I worked until the big drops began to fall, and then gathered all of my things into the garage to watch the storm.

I’ve always enjoyed storms. The combination of the lightning, the thunder, and the wind always gives me a thrill. It’s one of the things I’ve missed since moving into the basement. Unless the storm is right overhead, I can’t hear the thunder, and obviously I can’t see the lightning. On the rare occasions that a storm occurs just as I’m going to bed, I’ll open my blinds just to watch the flashes of light while I fall asleep.

I stood in the garage watching today’s storm until the wind changed directions and started blowing the rain right into the garage. I closed it up and went downstairs to find something to do while the storm did its thing. It didn’t last more than thirty minutes (I didn’t find out when it quit because I couldn’t hear it). I waited long enough for some of the water to soak into the ground before I went back to my weeds.

The storm brought with it a blessed cooling and a cloud cover that kept the sun from baking me. I worked in the yard until dark, and as I was going inside, I noticed more lightning to the south. I went in and washed up. Then I took my supper outside and sat and watched the lightning show while I ate.

Laying in the grass at 2:30 in the morning hoping for a fleeting glimpse of a falling star, sitting in the dark watching lightning dance across the sky—these are some of the things that draw my thoughts to God; for indeed, the heavens do declare the glory of God.

Pain Tolerance

The other morning as I was getting ready for work, I heard a news story that claims that redheads have a higher pain tolerance. According to the story, we are missing the hormone that would make our hair brown. That same hormone in other people makes them feel pain more intensely.

So I was looking for this information on the Internet and found another source that claims that on average, redheads require about 20% more anesthesia than other people to obtain satisfactory sedation. I found claims that support both theories.

From personal experience, I believe that I would fall on the “Give me more!” side of things. I know that I require more anesthesia than the average patient when reclining in the dentist chair. There were many times in the midst of drilling that my dentist would have to stop and shoot me up again. He has finally learned to give the extra dose on the front end of things.

If the theory of redheads having more pain tolerance is true, then Kris can be thankful for her red hair right now. She just had her wisdom teeth pulled and pain is a very Real Force in her life at the moment. She is disputing that theory. She thinks that she is feeling her pain very acutely right now.

I found a message board on which redheads were discussing some of the theories they’ve heard about redheads. It would seem that soft tooth enamel is common, several were born with only three wisdom teeth, and some have heard that they have more acid in their saliva, which contributes to the bad teeth. There are a lot of theories out there…kinda funny.

Bribery

Today my boss tried his hand at bribery.

He found out that his prospect for my stand-in this fall has turned down the opportunity. He offered me a $2 an hour pay raise (not an insignificant amount) if I would quit school. I just smiled.

Paper

Paper seems to have an overwhelming presence in my life. It’s a wonder that I don’t have nightmares filled with Paper Monsters: Catalogs chasing me for hour upon endless hour through the Forest of Receipts I Haven’t Dealt With, Credit Card Offers attempting to inflict paper cuts, and Charitable Contribution Pleas trying to push me off a cliff into the Sea of Statements Waiting to be Reconciled.

I deal with an abundance of paper at work, but it’s not the paper at work that overwhelms. There is usually a place for that paper. No, it is the paper at home that piles up at an alarming rate. Junk mail, catalogs, legitimate mail, receipts, school papers…they accumulate at a rate that leaves me wondering where it all came from.

With all of the demands on my time, paper does not rank very high on my list of priorities. I live in a vicious cycle of stacking these papers to be sorted through Some Day. These stacks get shoved into boxes in an effort to gain some semblance of order for the purpose of being able to use my desk or to give the appearance of having everything under control, should some unfortunate soul happen to stop in.

Some Day arrived several days last week. I sorted, pitched, and restacked. I actually found receipts from 2003 that didn’t quite make it to my previous Some Days. I think that if I improved my filing system it would help immensely. If I created a logical place to put all of my papers, then I wouldn’t have any excuses, would I? Maybe, but probably not. Lack of time is always a good one, right?