Lift Up Your Hearts!

One year ago today we were basking in the sun of an unusually warm November day, and in the healing joy of the birth of a beautiful, healthy baby boy. This has truly been a Year of Thanksgiving.

I know this will not impress you Northerners, but I'll tell the story anyway. When I jumped into the pool today, I thought that the water was a tad on the chilly side. After doing my 10 warm-up lengths, I checked the thermometer: 67 degrees, a drop of six degrees since Friday. It was actually quite pleasant, after a lap or two, though I'm sure it's colder than the Maggie P. in summer. Probably not colder than Lake Bomoseen, however. My goal is to keep swimming until Thanksgiving. This time it was easy, as I had no idea before I stepped in how cold the water was. The real test of my determination will be the next time I venture in.

We're watching the lunar eclipse. The first time I saw that beautiful phenomenon, my father awakened me in the early hours of the morning, and we drove to a place where we could see the moon well. I was cold and sleepy. But it was worth it: to see the moon, and to have that special time with my dad.

Tonight we have it easy. We step out of our front door into the warm Florida night, and there is the disappearing moon, clear and lovely and perfectly framed. It reminds me of watching space shuttle launches, which we also see from our front yard. Except that this time I have no lingering fears that the beauty will splinter and fall as I watch.

Being originally a New Englander, Porter has been a Boston Red Sox fan since before he learned that those things he put on under his shoes were actually spelled s-o-c-k-s. He loves the team so much that he usually refuses to watch them play. (We lived near Boston for nearly two years, and never went to Fenway Park.) Demonstrating that paganism can still lurk in the deep recesses of a Christian's life, he is (or pretends to be) superstitious enough to believe he can jinx them just by watching. And I must admit that the anecdotal evidence is pretty strong. He has the opposite effect on the Yankees, too. During the first round of the playoffs this year, he watched seven seconds of a Yankees-Twins game, with Minnesota well ahead—just in time to see Rubin Sierra hit a three-run homer to tie the game, which the Yankees went on to win. Chastened, he watched not one second of the Boston-New York playoffs. (More)

With the nonchalance of season passholders, we spent the day at EPCOT’s International Food and Wine Festival. The park was not crowded by their standards, but it was by ours; we prefer to go when time spent waiting in line is minimal. Today, however, we found ourselves in line again, and again, and again…each time at a small booth with a long queue, that featured a different country’s food and drink. Portions were appetizer-sized, and prices were Disney-sized, but the idea was great. If the portions had been any larger, we wouldn’t have been able to enjoy so many tastes. It helps to have a partner in this situation: you wait in this line, I’ll wait in that one, then we’ll meet and share the food. It was a strategy that worked well.

Waiting in line was a social event, too. Floridians seem to have made an easy transition from exchanging hurricane preparation tips while in line at Home Depot, to exchanging food recommendations while waiting at EPCOT. (More)

We went to a high school football game tonight. It was a great night for it, cool enough for long pants and a sweatshirt, our first cool weather in months. We actually went to see the halftime show, which I understand is pretty good despite the efforts of four hurricanes to thwart practice. But there was no halftime show: the Marching Patriot Band played their music from the stands. Why? I'm not sure, except that it's technically Fall Break, and a significant portion of the band was elsewhere. (Why the sports teams, band, cheerleaders, and associated people should be deprived of their Fall Break time is another issue.) Even so, it sounded pretty good. Too bad those people at the gate thought we paid our $12 to see the football team.

Ah, well, it was a fun night anyway. We had friends to talk with during the first half, and the second half had several exciting plays, exciting even to me, whose interest in football is something less than one of those mathematical epsilons.... Besides, there's nothing quite like a Band Booster hamburger.

This is the first year there is no one in the band who was there when we were involved. Some siblings, though. And they still play the same songs.

I have been working on a project that involves gluing two sheets of cardstock together, then laminating the result with clear contact paper. It's a bit of work, but seemed more reasonable than purchasing a $200 laminating machine.

Maybe not. I had been pleased with the results, but noticed that the rubber cement seal was coming apart in some places. No problem, I thought, I'll just slip in a little extra rubber cement. That appeared to be a fine solution, until I returned to my work an hour later and discovered that the solvent from the rubber cement had apparently penetrated the card stock and dissolved the adhesive on the contact paper, leaving a mess of wrinkles and bubbles. :(

Time to figure out Plan B. (More)

No Christian can rule out the possibility that he may be called upon to be a martyr. Be that as it may, I don't believe any of us is called to be a masochist.

In today's sermon we learned that God intends worship to be—among other things—fun. I'm not quarrelling with that, only mentioning it to make the point that I do not, in general, consider pain to be fun. (More)

Tuesday, September 28, 2004. 1:00 p.m.  The power is still on, and we are all happy about that. Porter is currently up on the roof, making repairs, and is glad that the pool is looking better this morning. Jonathan, Heather and I have a date to see some friends this afternoon, but we hope to get in some yardwork and a swim, too. Jonathan is not yet very helpful with the yardwork, but makes up for it by being incredibly cute as he tries to handle the rake. And he really enjoys the swimming part afterwards.

9:15 p.m. We didn’t get our swim in. We were just finishing in the front yard when Porter came home. Since we had discovered that we were cooler working outside than we had been sitting inside, Porter decided it was time to take the rest of the plywood down so we could open the windows. During the process Jonathan discovered a stream of water in the gutter and got his shoes soaking wet. Leaving him (with his mother watching, of course) to splash and play in his naked glory, I took his shoes in to clean them up. While I was inside, the phone rang. The cordless phone rang. Wait a minute...the cordless phone doesn’t work unless we have POWER! Sure enough, the power was on; our best guess was that it came on around 6:30. Twenty-nine and a half hours without power this time. We welcomed the return of light and A/C and computing power with 100% gratitude, but also with the usual small percentage of wistfulness, as there is something magical about being without electricity. Hot, and dark, and sometimes frustrating, but also, in a way, fun. Not that I’m in any hurry for more of that fun for a while!

Porter made a trip to Home Depot tonight, as we lost enough shingles this time to require some temporary roof repair. I’m glad the store was open; when Heather and I went out, we found most stores closed, including two of our three grocery stores, and most gas stations.

Jon made it safely home. In fact, his was the call that let us know the power was back.

Jonathan is really happy to have the air conditioning back on; he was one hot and sweaty kid! While the power was off, he’d kept staring at the lights with a puzzled look, as if he couldn’t understand why we didn’t turn them on. When the power came back on, he still focused on the lights; this time with a big smile.

Time for a shower and a night’s sleep. Good night, all!

Monday, September 27, 2004. 4:30 p.m. I apologize for the long delay between updates. Just after 1:00 yesterday afternoon, as the storm was nearly over, we lost power. In fact, we are still without power, making it the longest outage for us of the three hurricanes. Porter is working from a friend’s house, the friend having both power and high-speed connection to share.

The airport opened at noon today, and we took Jon to the airport where we assume he had no trouble catching his flight, though we haven’t heard yet. We chose to take the longer, but mostly-expressway route, as uncontrolled intersections made the other roads difficult to travel. With each hurricane we get better, however: many of the important intersections had working lights, powered by generators.

Jonathan is still enjoying himself, though he is anxious for the pool to be open again. I put some chlorine in, and when it has had a chance to dissipate we may indulge. It looks a little gross, with pump and filter not working, but it should be safe and cool. When they ask Jonathan what he thinks of Florida, he’s going to say, “The people are nice, but it sure is hot and dark there.”

I’m not sure when my next update will be. We’re fine, but if you need to get in touch with us, phone is more reliable at this point than e-mail.

We’re off to do some yardwork. It will make the pool and/or cold shower feel that much better, and help justify all the really soft ice cream we have to eat.

11:30 a.m. Still here, still fine, still have power, wind is anything but still. Impressive gusts, but sustained winds aren’t bad. We jump mostly when a gust pulls the trap door to the attic open and slams it down, or when a metal piece of the chimney cap buckles and snaps back. Daytona Beach is getting pounded by one of the outer bands, while the center of the hurricane heads for Tampa. Take a look at the satellite picture to see how Jeanne is spread over the whole state and more.

I don’t know where this came from originally—it seems to be one of those things that arise spontaneously from the e-mail murk. But there’s a lot of truth in it!
 (More)

9:45 a.m.  We should be at church now, but storm—not to mention curfew—made the 40-minute trip an unwise venture. We did, however, have a great time of singing hymns with Heather at the piano, Jon and Porter singing, Jonathan exploring the living room, and me singing while running back and forth between the living room and the kitchen, so that the lemon-blueberry pancakes didn’t burn.

11:30 p.m. Okay, now it feels as if I’m preparing for a hurricane: I’m baking a pound cake. I think the Daleys are asleep, but Porter and I are still up, doing odds and ends (like baking, and getting the hall ready for occupation) while keeping track of the storm. It looks as if it will hit here sooner than expected, maybe about 4 a.m. I understand one of the greatest concerns is that so many people have just given up. Like one of our neighbors, who didn’t bother to put up his plywood this time. Compliance with evacuation orders is much, much lower, with many fewer people going to shelters. This despite the fact that the news commentators are saying, “Think the intensity of Charley with the duration of Frances.”

I was worried about Ivan, but Jeanne was weak and wandering for so long that I had all but forgotten about her. However, as we learned from The Hobbit:

10:30 p.m.  Just after writing that, I heard some wind gusts, but we still don’t expect much till tomorrow.