In Between

 It's been a quiet time here. I guess we're still processing Tim's news. Tim went to his church on Sunday, and offered his situation up for prayer. After church, a friend immediately approached him. As they compared, they  realized that their situations were very similar although medicine has advanced. The old surgery has been replaced by robotics. 6 or 7 small incisions replace one major incision. His friend's surgery was 25 years ago, or thereabouts. You'd never know it talking to him today, and it was a great encouragement to Tim. 

We worked on the new build today. I've been very matter of fact with Tim. We've got two months, and what we are doing is buttoning things up for winter. He will require a solid month off. He will be on activity restrictions for at least two months following that. We are taking the winter off. 

He spent the day on the tractor with the bucket on the front. He scooped up dirt and dumped it around the foundation where the dirt had settled. I spent the day taping up the zip board. 

We were waiting for the building inspector. He said he would be there before 3. I was up on the ladder when I heard Tim talking to someone. It was the inspector, and he was there before lunch time. He was quite curious about our time line for this build, and about scheduling the next inspection. Tim explained that we would be on a mandatory slowdown for the winter, and why. 

Immediately, the man said, "Oh no!" followed by, "Listen, my dad had surgery and it took him a while to recuperate. It was a pretty awful few months, but the guy's in his 80s now and doing great!" 

We visited a while in the sun, and when the guy left, he said, "Well, call if you have any questions or even if you need moral support!" 

How nice. People have been so very nice. 

I think of gz's blog, she refers to comments as dropping a pebble in the pool. So many pebbles dropped in our pool lately. Thank you to everyone who has troubled themselves to do this kindness, whether it be electornically or in person. 

Yesterday, we spoke with a 93 year old woman who has run out of her savings after 30 years of retirement. She lives a very frugal life, and things are getting much worse for her. She's decided she cannot afford television anymore, which might sound like a luxury, but this is a woman who has no car. She is pretty much homebound. She never married. She has no children. She lives in her parents house. I doubt she is a reader. Television is probably just about her only entertainment. 

I said, as I always do, "You need to call us! We can drive you places. We can help you out!" We always tell her this. Many people have. Someone tried to set her up with Meals on Wheels. She snorted in disgust. "What am I supposed to do with that? I don't have a microwave." Immediately, I thought of someone who is selling a small microwave. I said, "We can get you a microwave!" She got upset. Her house is not wired to be able to handle a microwave. I didn't bother to tell her that if her kitchen could handle a fridge and a stove, it was surely able to handle a microwave. There's no point. Someone from her church offered to bring a box of food from their food pantry every week. She turned it down. She's diabetic and she can't eat processed food. I said that there were many people who would be glad to help her out. She said, "I don't know anyone on this street. I used to know everyone. But I don't approve of their lifestyles." And she began to point out the various houses where people cohabitate but are not married. 

I was sad for her when I left, but there is not a lot we can do for her. She is upset about her situation, but she doesn't want to accept help. Other than dropping off food on her front porch, healthy things that she won't object to, I can't think of one other thing to help her. Nobody's dropping pebbles in her pool. If they did, she'd probably heave them back. 

Today, my grandaughter had her first day of school. She's excitedly been running to the window to watch the school bus stop on the corner in front of her house since the time she could walk. She was beside herself with the thrill of actually riding that school bus and going to school for the whole day. I smiled thinking of her. I had pictures of her dressed for school and getting on the bus. I couldn't wait to hear how her day had gone.  

There was a grave being prepared in the little cemetery across the road That afternoon, the internment ceremony was held and the cars lined up along the little road. 

Beginnings, ends. Somewhere in between, Tim shut down the tractor out of respect and we worked together in the sun to finish taping that final wall.