Category: People

People make it special

Thanksgiving

On By SandyIn Faith, Food, Love, PeopleLeave a comment

It is popular to tear down traditions. People do it with glee. There isn’t a holiday on the calendar that hasn’t been derided by some group or another. Thanksgiving is a popular target. From PETA to groups that decry the cruelty of colonialism to atheists who claim there is no One to thank, people love to tear it down. They even love to tear down the family. “A real family is made of the people you love.”

The family is God’s creation. God commands us to honor our parents. He doesn’t say to honor our parents if they deserve it. God says children are a blessing. Yes, even the ones that drive us crazy! God gifts us with our family. Sometimes He gifts us with new people, friends and neighbors, giving those who have no one a place where they are appreciated and belong. That’s a good thing. But that does not mean we can abandon father and mother, sister and brother. Yes, every family has a member or two who are difficult, perhaps even more than difficult. Some of them may be (and I am beginning to hate this catch word) toxic, and in some cases, distance can be helpful for a time. Perhaps that difficult person is you. Or me.

But God created the family. He created it for our good. He created it to be a place where people look out for each other, where the unlovely are still loved, where the unkind are shown kindness, where charity and mercy are practiced daily. Everyone loves people who are nice to them, who agree with them, who are easy and fun and supportive. Family is the training ground where we learn to love the unloveable, to forgive what seems unforgivable, and to spread God’s grace and mercy and peace to flawed humanity.

Thanksgiving is a time of gathering. We gather as friends and family. As neighbors and congregations. Thanksgiving is a time of working out differences. Of good-natured arguments over food or football. Of sharing with and caring for those in need. But mostly, Thanksgiving is a time to count our blessings and to be grateful to God for all His good gifts. And while we should be thankful every day, the food and the customs of this day connect us as a nation, connect us to past generations and to the future.

So yes, we can talk about conspicuous consumption or the value of the turkey as a main dish or pumpkin as a dessert. We can argue about politics or climate change. We can bluster about Commanders or Cowboys. But then we can bow our heads and spend a few moments thanking God for all that He as given us, to ask His blessing on those in need, on our nation, on friends and neighbors, and on the flawed people He has gathered together called our family. We can thank Him for His faithfulness when we were unfaithful, for being a Father to the fatherless, for loving us and forgiving us when we were unlovely. We can thank Him for sending His son Jesus to atone for our sins and for adopting us into His family by grace through faith.

My Taller Half and I wish you a very Happy Thanksgiving from Pixley. May the Lord bless you today and always.

692

On By SandyIn Business, PeopleLeave a comment

It has been a while since our travels took us by the lumber mill. Unable to contain his curiosity, My Taller Half called the mill to check on the men and women working there. The receptionist was happy to chat with him and informed him that, thanks to everyone working together, they have enjoyed 692 days without an accident. Both MTH and I are all smiles. Well done, folks! Well done!

Snakes Alive!

On By SandyIn Animals, PeopleLeave a comment

My Taller Half (MTH) and I were snuggled down to watch the ending of a gripping mini-series we’ve been watching for a while. We stopped a couple of months ago because we were getting close to the end. MTH doesn’t like endings. He likes to make it last. My memory isn’t as good as his, and I like to get lost in the story. A couple of months is a bit too much of a break for me.

But we watched the next to the last episode, and I didn’t want to stop. It was a rainy evening — no wind, no thunder and lightning, just a nice rainy evening — perfect for a movie night. We decided to finish it. We made it to the exciting part at the end when MTH muttered What do they want? before heading out the door.

I didn’t know who “they” were. I didn’t see or hear anything but the movie. But then I heard MTH’s booming voice talking to someone, and I thought I’d better pause the video and go check. There was a car in front of our house. It was running. The headlights illuminated something in the road. I was afraid it was a cat.

Is everything alright?

Honey, go get the snake hook.

Then I looked closer, and I saw large open jaws and fangs. I heard the word moccasin as I ran to the house. I was relieved it was not a cat, but a water moccasin is not a welcome guest.

You may wonder why we have a snake hook. MTH used to own a lawn care business, and on more than one occasion, having a snake hook came in handy. It was one of the things he kept when his business closed. He even brought it here, and it came in handy with my ball python a few times. When a friend of ours gave our ball python a new home, I felt a little bad that we didn’t give them the snake hook, but MTH said you never know when we would need one.

MTH ordered me to stay away from the snake. He took the hook from me.

Be careful! I’m pretty sure MTH thinks he’s invincible. It’s my job to remind him he is not.

He approached the snake. The man in the car had run over it two or three times, but the snake was still moving, and those jaws were looking for something to bite. After a couple of tries, MTH got the hook around the snake’s neck and with difficulty maneuvered him so the head was in front of the tires. The snake had already experienced the tire, and he didn’t want to be there. He even tried to bite the tire. But a couple of rolls back and forth on his head ended the snake.

Go check on Little Boy.

Little Boy is an adorable Manx cat who lives with us now. We’re like his grandparents. I found him, took him into the house, and looked for signs of bites. I held in my arms and looked for injuries. I turned him on his back and he purred. That is a good sign, right?

I went back outside and told MTH that Little Boy looked okay. He said he would be gone if he had been bitten. The snake was a bit of a mess, but it still looked like it wanted to do some damage. There is venom all over him — go get a couple of bags.

MTH knows his stuff. He used to live near a naval base further south, and he killed two water moccasins in his yard in one year. Neither of us are overly fond of killing snakes. They have their rightful place in the ecosystem. Water moccasins, also called cottonmouths, have a reputation for being aggressive, but mainly, they just want to eat frogs and small mammals. They are potentially deadly, yet they account for only 1% of snakebite deaths. Our university extension office says that there are about 7,000 – 8,000 venomous snakebites each year in the U.S. and only five or six deaths. So their reputation as a killer snake may be unwarranted. But they can kill you or, more likely, cause long-term injuries, so when one is trying to strike you or someone you love, it’s good to stack the odds.

Some neighbors came over and offered to bring some bags, but I was already on it. When I came back, a neighbor helped MTH and I double-bag the snake and dispatch him in the dumpster. Where did he come from? He needed to be near a pond, right?

There’s a pond behind our house, said a neighbor.

MTH said that the man in the car saw Little Boy trying to go fight him, and he got Little Boy out of harm’s way and hit the snake.

I don’t think small town life necessarily involves battles with venomous snakes, though it is a part of living in our state. Honestly, in nearly six decades of living here, I’ve seen water moccasins many times, but I’ve never had one in my yard. That was … disconcerting.

But what makes this a Pixley story is that a stranger stopped to protect a little cat from a snake and worked with MTH to dispatch him safely. And neighbors came out to check on Little Boy and help us clean up the remains. I love how people look out for one another. This can happen in big cities as well as small towns, but it doesn’t happen nearly enough.

With the excitement over, we said our goodnights and went back inside.

I watched the end of the show with my mighty warrior beside me and Little Boy safe at home. I do love a happy ending.


Love and Spiders

On By SandyIn Animals, Love, People2 Comments

My father was an entomology technician with the USDA. On a few precious days during the summer, I went with him to the lab. I examined spiders and snakes in specimen jars, watched the angelfish in the office aquarium, and listened to the men talk. Not being sexist here, but the lab was populated by men. I think there was a secretary somewhere, but she didn’t work in the lab. It was probably the spiders and snakes that kept her at a distance.

I listened while Dad’s boss and co-worker chatted during downtime. Dad was always off doing something – prepping for the next experiment, observing, cleaning up. He wasn’t good at being still or idle. Neither am I, but I listened and watched and scribbled on a yellow pad, trying hard to be still and quiet. The reward would be lunch at the A&W Drive-In.

I loved being in the lab. Those visits fostered my love of both science and of creepy crawlies. There are exceptions — cockroaches, fleas, ticks, mosquitoes, and fire ants, to name a few. Spiders are not one of the exceptions.

I did not get my admiration of spiders from my mother. She once worked for the state department of agriculture. She picked random samples of leaves for examination. She was good at it, she said, because she was afraid of spiders. Rather than cherry-picking the leaves, she would reach in and grab without looking, all while hoping to avoid any spider that might be hiding in the tree.

My Taller Half (MTH) discovered an interesting spider outside last night. The web was anchored on one side to an overgrown ligustrum. The other side was anchored on a tree about 10 feet up and about 15-20 feet away from the ligustrum. He took photos, but when I looked for the web during the day, I didn’t see it.

We went out together tonight, and the spider was busily rebuilding. While I’m sure the bright flashlight was disturbing, she didn’t stop building … except when a flying bug attracted by the light hit the web. She took a break to wind him up then returned to her building. I believe she is an Eriophora ravilla, a tropical orb weaver. From the photos I found, she might be a juvenile. I found this on the IFAS site:

Orb webs of adult female E. ravilla have a widely spaced spiral and may be over 1 m across (see photograph in Levi 1977). The bridge thread supporting the web may be 6 m long (M. Stowe in Levi 1977). The web is constructed after dark, and the orb is taken down before dawn. The bridge and frame threads are probably left in place (Levi 1977). The web probably catches many moths and other night flying insects; these spiders may be particularly beneficial along woodland borders of field agroecosystems and within orchards. It is known to occur in citrus groves in Florida (Mansour et al. 1982). All stages apparently occur throughout the year, but little else is known of its life cycle.

https://edis.ifas.ufl.edu/publication/IN568

That explains why I couldn’t find the web. Very cool. We named her Enola. Enola is alone backwards, as we were told by the title character of Enola Holmes. Orb weavers seem to live solitary lives.

Before The Big Storm hit, I had a beautiful golden silk orb-weaver in residence. I enjoyed visiting him, seeing his web each day, telling him how beautiful he was. The night before the storm, he had fortified his web impressively, and as the winds began to pick up, he stood defiantly on his new web. I told him it would not help, that he needed to go into the eaves or find someplace safe. He didn’t listen to me. Stubborn. After the storm, I looked for him, but I never saw him again. He probably had quite a ride.

One of the things I loved most about Dad was that he never expected less from my sister or me than he did of our brothers. He believed we could be or do anything we wanted. He talked to me about bugs and plants. He brought home baby ducks and puppies. He warned me about the dangers of a possum bite while he hand-fed a possum jellybeans. I miss him.

One of the things I love most about MTH is that he sees the world a lot like I do. He will stop to marvel at a spider building a web. He’ll send me photos of that spider at night while I’m sleeping because he knows I wouldn’t want to miss it. He will tromp through the weeds and sit on a fallen tree trunk to watch the cardinals with me. He’ll turn the car around to take another look at a magnolia in full bloom. He comprehends the wonder of God’s creation.

One of the things I love most about Enola is that she weaves these memories together as skillfully as she weaves her web. Tonight, I thank God for the men He put in my life. For Mom. For love and spiders.

Collards and Cornbread

On By SandyIn Food, Gardening, Love, PeopleLeave a comment

For three months now, I’ve been babying my fall garden, including two collard green plants that survived my initial incompetence. Can you believe that while My Taller Half and I were out shopping, my neighbor harvested my greens and cooked them?

Of course, this was an act of kindness, not thievery. MTH loves collard greens. I’m a decent cook, but I didn’t even know how they should taste. How would I know if I was making them right or tell a good recipe from a bad one? Our next-door neighbor, a lifelong resident of this part of the country, said that’s one thing she knows how to make. In truth, this fine lady can cook and makes many good things.

While we were out, I called to ask if I needed to bring home anything to make the collards. She told me they were already done. She said to be sure to get the fixin’s for cornbread.

When we arrived home, she brought us a big pot.

“Are you sure you don’t want to keep some? It looks like there’s plenty.” She said no, but her grandson came in, smelled them, and had a big spoonful before she could tell him those weren’t for them. She promised to make him another pot later.

The greens smelled heavenly. I started to put them in containers in the refrigerator so that I could wash and return her pot. MTH said he couldn’t wait for cornbread and ate a little bowlful, confirming that the collards were excellent. He texted her the same, and she replied, “I know that’s right!”

Next fall, I need to plant a lot more collards and maybe some mustard greens, too. We still have broccoli, cabbages, and carrots to harvest later. Those I know how to handle. For now, I need to make some cornbread and ask God’s blessings on our sweet neighbor.

We Do Things Differently Here

On By SandyIn Doing things differently, PeopleLeave a comment

On Saturday, we drove across state lines to go to the Big City to look at some bathroom tile. There are several tile stores there, but only one was open on Saturday. Things close early around here. Many businesses aren’t open on Saturday. More aren’t open on Sunday. In the REALLY BIG CITY (hereinafter referred to as the RBC), you become accustomed to finding almost anything you want exactly when you want it. You become impatient. The pace here is slower, so you have to make careful plans and be patient if you want to get things done.

I called the tile shop before we left. There was no answer, but later, I received a call on my cell phone from the owner of the shop. He said the young woman who was working that day was busy with a customer, so the phone forwarded to his phone. He told us to come on by, take whatever samples we need, and if we have any questions, call him on his cell phone. It didn’t surprise me. They do things differently here.

We drove past the lumber mill on the way to the Big City. I turned to My Taller Half.

Fifty-three days.

No. Sixty-five at least.

We were both disgusted to see the sign read 4 Days without an Accident. We will never break triple digits again at this rate!

My Taller Half is always remarking on all the things that are left unsecured or marginally secured around here. If you left those riding lawn mowers outside in the RBC, someone with a big truck and some bolt cutters would make off with them in a heartbeat. He may be cynical, but he’s also right. If he sees a purse in a grocery cart unattended, he will confront the owner and tell her that she shouldn’t turn her back on the shopping cart with her purse sitting in it. It is liable to be stolen. Then he’ll help load their groceries and take the empty cart back to the store. I’ve told him that in the RBC, if a big man makes a comment like that, it might be taken as a veiled threat, and if he reached for their packages or the cart, it might turn ugly. The ladies here just smile and say, “Why, thank you so much!” They do things differently around here.

I first realized this the day I closed on this house. I walked over to introduce myself to my new neighbors. I gave them my cell phone number should anything odd happen at the house. They told me to let them know if there was anything they could do for me, I need only to call. They meant it.

A few weeks later, I had ordered something from CONGLOMO STORE that was supposed to arrive at the post office in Pixley on Saturday. It was a long weekend, and I was planning to spend it working on the house. I had a 6 ½ hour drive from my RBC to Pixley, and I expected the package to be waiting for me when I arrived. Instead, I received a call from my neighbors, who said the postal worker thought the house was empty so they took the package back to the post office. I pulled over at the next rest stop to call the Pixley Post Office. They were only open until 11:30 a.m. I couldn’t be there by then, and Monday was a federal holiday. I was almost in tears. They wouldn’t hold the package for my next scheduled visit in a month.

The woman at the post office took pity on me. Come to the post office between 9:00 and 11:30 on Monday… but don’t let anyone see you. The post office is officially closed, but I will be working, and if you come while I’m there, I will give you the package.

The post office opening on a federal holiday to help someone. This just does not happen in the RBC. Never! But they do things differently here. Here, people say “Yes, sir,” or “Yes, ma’am,” and “Have a blessed day.” Neighbors look after each other. Some people still leave doors unlocked during the day and leave their keys in their car. Can you imagine?

This morning, My Taller Half went by the bank to make a withdrawal, but while waiting in the drive-thru. he realized he had left his wallet at home. He had no ATM card and no ID. He told the young teller that he needed to go home and get them. (Home is about three minutes away.) The teller said, “That’s okay, Mr. A. I know who you are. I can give you money.”

She had seen him before in the bank, but she didn’t know him. They weren’t close friends or neighbors. He drove home and got his wallet. We understand that there are processes in place to keep employees safe and funds safe and mail safe. The rules can be inconvenient, but the intent is to protect people and things… and to protect businesses from lawsuits. One day, some of the vice from the RBC will hit here, and life will change forever.

But not today.