Lift Up Your Hearts!

It hit me suddenly, while reading about refugees housed in Japanes school gymnasiums, that this is the time of year we attended a school-wide program for Janet's school, held in their gym.  We were healthy, happy, dry, and well-clothed—with personal hand- and foot-warmers to boot—and were nonetheless deeply chilled before the program ended.  And that was further south than the troubled area of Japan.  That also made me realize that when you hear reports that make the refugees' need for fuel seem nearly as important as their need for water, it's not so they can tool around town in their Toyotas.  Fuel for transport is vital, of course, but kerosene heaters are a common source of heat for Japanese homes.  I can't imagine what Janet's apartment would have been like at this time of year without kerosene—or rather, I can imagine it all too well.

Here's an update from the team Stephan's friend is working with in Japan.  It will give you a good idea of their plans for the work.

Japan is a rich, modern country and doesn't need help after a natural disaster the way places like Haiti and Indonesia do, right?

Wrong.  Even if you ignore the nuclear power plant problems, no one country has the resources to handle a disaster of this magnitude.

Janet and Stephan each lived (separately) for a year in Japan.  Janet's friends are fine, being located on the other side of Tokyo and surrounded by mountains.  Stephan's friends are closer to the troubled area, but apparently are also well.  One was even in the U.S. at the time of the quake; near to us, in fact, studying at the Orlando campus of Reformed Theological Seminary.

He and a team of others are even now en route back to Japan, bringing not only manpower but also water purifiers and other equipment and supplies.  They will be working with a small church that has been shuttling supplies—not to mention human contact and hope—to places the government has yet to reach with aid.  It began with one trip and one truck, and has been expanding tremendously as neighbors and businesses have become involved.  You can read about the project at www.spendyourself.org, the website of one of the team members—the son of the church's pastor.  And if you, like me, prefer to support individual, local relief efforts when you can, that site also provides a tax-deductible way to help the team help the Japanese.

I'll have to say that despite Stephan's recommendation, it was a bit of a struggle for me at first, because of some negative experiences with that particular denomination.  But as I had  recently spoken forcefully about the need to transcend differences, even serious theological differences, whenever we can work together for a common goal—well, I knew this had just enough of the flavor of God's sense of humor to make it important.

Whether you want to support the team or not, I recommend following www.spendyourself.org for the story of small triumphs of hope, in the midst of great tragedy, that you won't hear on CNN.

 

The water came, not from the sky, but from the sprinklers left on overnight in an attempt to raise the ambient temperature for sensitive plants closer to 32 degrees than the predicted 25.  The ice shows that the precautions were not unwarranted.  At 4:30 a.m. our back porch thermometer registered 35 degrees, but I suspect it was quite a bit colder than that—the sensor is located near the house and above the worms, which had their own heating lamp for the night.

Taking a slight diversion from my Good New Days series, today I am thankful for cooler weather.  Fall has been terribly late in coming this year.  In our early years in Florida we sometimes turned the furnace on at the end of September—those  were the days when Climate Change meant the series of unusually cold winters that destroyed the citrus industry in Central Florida—but this year we needed the air conditioning right through the end of October.

But for the last few days I have been able to enjoy wearing jeans again.  I have put a blanket on the bed and dug out my winter pajamas.  Lows in the mid-40’s and highs in the mid-60’s, with bright sunshine and a pleasant reduction in the humidity:  that’s my kind of weather.  It makes me feel alive, and happy for no particular reason at all.

This morning when I woke up, the inside temperature was 60 degrees.  Normally that's cause to turn on the furnace, but by Wednesday we’re supposed to be back up into the 80’s.  So for now I’m thankful for the joy of wrapping cold fingers around a hot cup of tea.  I may even break out the oatmeal for breakfast, and enjoy a steaming hot cup of cocoa!

Apparently Florida has been having its longest streak of cold weather ever, worse than that in the mid-1980s, which (along with predatory developers) killed off the Central Florida citrus industry.  I was unaware of the records being set, as we returned after the cold spell was well underway, having spent nearly a month in the Northeast, where we experienced single-digit temperatures, played hockey on a local pond, and shovelled 2.5 feet of snow.

The neighbor who picked me up at the bus stop had kindly warned me that it was cold, but with a long-sleeved turtleneck shirt, my warm Westtown sweatshirt, and a heavy coat (with hat, gloves, and scarf if necessary), I figured I was prepared for anything Florida had to offer.  And I was.  (More)

We're now officially into hurricane season, which means I'll be paying more attention to the Tropical Weather link on the sidebar.  The last two months of weather have been quite interesting.  April was lovely:  we were able to enjoy open windows and doors, using neither heat nor air conditioning.  (Yes, I know—I used to believe air conditioning was for wimps.  That was before I lived in Florida and learned the inverse relationship between sweltering temperatures and productivity.  The "lazy, hazy, crazy days of summer" only work if you don't have summer temperatures most months of the year.)

We weren't far into May before we turned on the A/C, but May's claim to fame this year was its rain.  As U understand it, an unexpected low pressure system stalled over Florida, and day after day after day sucked water from the Gulf of Mexico and deposited it on Central Florida.  Orlando had 14 inches of rain, breaking the previous record for May of 10 inches back in 1976.  Daytona Beach had almost 22 inches!

Although the surprise innundation (our rainy season doesn't usually begin till the end of the month) did some damage, flooding even non-flood zones, overall it was a very welcome break in our drought.  Now we seem to have settled back into the regular summer pattern of afternoon thunderstorms, and I must get back in the habit of remembering that outdoor work needs to be done in the morning.

At this moment, the temperature is the same in Orlando and Basel, which means that Orlando is having a "cold snap" and Basel has warmed up a bit since we were there.  Hillsboro, on the other hand....  Stay warm, all you Daleys!

I never used to pay attention to the weather forecast, and was amused by my mother-in-law's apparent fixation on the topic.  She was a Connecticut Yankee, and the weather sometimes meant life or death to her early New England ancestors.

So too, for Floridians, and ever since 2004, when we emerged from our 40-year hurricane lull, I've found it wise to keep an eye on the forecast, at least during hurricane season.  I have my favorite Tropical Weather link, and have carefully followed the progress of Fay, Gustav, and Ike recently. (More)

...and as far as I'm concerned, Hurricane Season can end right here.  Tropical Storm Fay's path is looking suspiciously like that of Hurricane Charley, and most of us would just as soon not relive that part of 2004.

Thanks for your prayers.

In case any of you are more aware of the news than I am (I suspect that includes most of you), we have not been affected by the Florida Power and Light blackout.  (We have a different power company.)  I understand that parts of our county have been, so I might notice if I were out driving around, but I'm not, and aside from a brief Internet glitch (which is not all that uncommon) everything seems normal.  A beautiful sunny day, with a lovely more-than-normal breeze, though I did wish I'd changed into shorts before going for my walk this morning.

My good friend PG has often been my source of breaking news, and she was again, IM-ing me from Rochester, NY to ask if we were okay.  :) 

Remembering that where they are now, we could be any time in the next few months, let's remember in prayer the people facing Hurricane Dean.  Not that there aren't always plenty of people in other situations needing our prayers, but for obvious reasons I have a special concern for those in a hurricane's path.

I hope this Weather Underground data is inaccurate!  Are there any readers from the Downingtown, Pennsylvania area who can confirm or deny this reading?

They say this hurricane season will be a busy one.  But for now we are enjoying the most wonderful May in my memory.  For weeks now the air conditioner has hardly ever turned on.  We are able to keep the windows open for most of the day, if we're careful to close them when the sun is shining directly in.  Those of you who were brought up in Florida know how unusual that is for any month after February!  The humidity is relatively low, as are the temperatures (today's high was only in the low 80's!), and best of all we have been enjoying delightful breezes!  Breezes are unusual here.  Mostly the air is so calm that clothes on a line stiffen into boards rather than attaining the gentle wind-graced softness we remember from our time up north.  It's as if Florida stores up all its wind, only to release it in big hurricane bursts.

But for now the weather is so delightful I had to write about it.  Now I'm going to leave the computer and rejoin Porter in the family room, where we are delighting in our books (Threads of Grey and Gold, and Lilith) and in the cool breeze that is wafting in the front windows and out the back door.

Having just received my third "are you okay???" message, I guess I'd better make a post.  We were under a tornato warning last night, with the storms expected to hit around midnight.  Somewhere around 5 a.m. I awoke to the sound of rain, and by about 6 it was pretty heavy, but it was coming straight down—no wind.  By 7 the rain had stopped and if it weren't for the news media I'd never have known that destruction was only a few miles away.  Thanks for caring, though!

Central Florida news teams were positioned to cover what they thought would be the big news of the night—the election—and had to scramble when the weather took center stage.

Have you ever stood in the ocean and had a wave suddenly break over your head? Now imagine that the wave doesn't recede, but continues to pour over you for half an hour, and you have a picture of yesterday's rainstorm. If there's been a heavier downpour in all our 20-some years here, I don't remember it. (More)