This year I’ve tried my best not to think about winter (which is always coming) but when I saw the mums at our Hannaford grocery store I couldn’t stop my hands from reaching for a pot. I chose one with tight buds and a few deep maroon flowers to know what color I had and plopped it into my cart. That one was watered and tended and opened up so nicely that this week I bought another one, burnt orange to go with our pumpkins. Yup, autumn is creeping in. I thought of it kindly and as I wheeled along I got a little surprise. As I approached the glass doors to exit the store I noticed something green on my mum plant – a cicada. She must have worked her way up from the bottom of the pot as I zoomed through canned goods and ice cream. I gave her a little “pop” with my fingers and whispered “Sorry, sweetie, the free ride is over. Your wings will take you to your fate.”
Emmanuel means “God with us” and He sure was as we raised the roof with hymns at Emmanuel Church yesterday morning. It was our annual hymn sing and we only had brief moments to refill our lungs between the old favorites – a some new – as they were belted out by the believers. The hymns were arranged to fit into our customary liturgy. We invoked God to join us at “The Little (Brown)White Church in the Vale”, asked forgiveness with “Blessed Assurance” and declared Jesus our “Beautiful Savior”. Then began the seasons of our lives and the ancient and lovely arose from our throats. “Borning Cry” “Onward Christian Soldiers” and “Old Rugged Cross” among them. We went, "Just As I Am", for the wine and bread, not one of us with a plea or excuse. Only knowing that love and mercy waits there. It was enough to make a grown woman cry and a few of the men, too. We closed with "God Be With You ('til we meet again)". Later we had a bountiful breakfast downstairs. I sat near the door leading out to the side yard and it cracked open on pastor’s beaming face. Looking over the throng, he saw God’s people fresh from feasting on old hymns, reveling in shared values, and expressing a whole lotta love while they munched away. Wonderful.
Yesterday afternoon hubby and I were madly scraping paint from the side of our house. We’ve been at it all summer and are nearing the finish line. Old wooden houses are a charming pain in the arse sometimes. They must be scraped and painted at intervals and our interval is now. Anyway, as we chipped away a car pulled into the driveway. A man got out of the car and walked over. “How old do you think this house is?”
John told him the doorbell on the front door was dated 1860. Abraham Lincoln was president. He told us he’d like to use his metal detector in our yard sometime, “Or now?” So we said go ahead and he did. A few hours later he presented us with a bunch of cool stuff, some of which is in the picture above. His name is Bob and he’ll be back. One day I want to have a cool hobby like Bob's.
That’s it around the town for now. How are things by you?
Note: In the picture - old brass bell, ship charm, shell button, knife handle, part of a child's play shovel and a piece of pottery. Neato Frito, huh?