Tag: my family

Prayer Request: Our Car

Posted By: leeduigon(patty)Posted On:

We had Patty’s car towed to a body shop this morning, and here’s where it gets worse–the shop said there was too much damage, they didn’t want to bother with it.

She loves that car, and it doesn’t have much mileage on it. Plus it’s all my fault. We have to find someone who’ll do the work; this shop today was just too busy. Maybe our neighbor Josh knows somebody. I’ll ask. He thought it could be repaired, when he saw it.

We would very much appreciate your prayers for this. We just want the car back. It doesn’t have to look like it just came out of the showroom.

Please, Father, get us through this: in Jesus’ name, Amen.

‘Sweet Hour of Prayer’

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My aunts used to sing this as they went about their housework, and it was the first hymn that came to my mind today, so here it is: Sweet Hour of Prayer, sung by Alan Jackson.

‘Memory Lane: The Workbench’ (2017)

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Image result for images of tool room

When I was a boy, everybody seemed to have a workbench, either downstairs in the cellar or else the garage. I’ll bet my grandpa had a thousand tools. And my Uncle Ferdie was an inventor.

Memory Lane: The Workbench

Were people handier back then? My father made all sorts of things we used around the house. Grandpa made toys (we still have some of them).

But the years flow by, and decades of apartment living have eroded any handiness I ever had. *Sigh*

‘Just As I Am’

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My aunts used to sing this hymn as they went about their housework; and it was played at Aunt Millie’s funeral: Just As I Am, sung here by the Voice of Eden. In Christ we now have family in India, too.

Health Hassle

Posted By: leeduigon(patty)Posted On:

1,900+ Spilled Pill Bottle Stock Photos, Pictures & Royalty ...

My wife and my sister (she’s a nurse) have been conferring about my health, since the doctor yesterday recommended I take this unpronounceable medicine for my kidney function. Draw ten Scrabble tiles out of a hat and you’ve named a new medicine.

Well, I was supposed to get samples of this stuff, and I didn’t–half my fault for misunderstanding the doctor, half his fault for not being clear. Calling the pharmacist was a spectacular waste of time, no one ever answered the phone. Finally I went back to the doctor’s office and got the samples.

Anyway, there’s my sister interrogating me on the phone, my wife thinking up many questions I should’ve asked the doctor, and me wondering whether I should take this unpronounceable stuff at all. Why won’t my kidneys just behave themselves?

I admit I’m a lousy patient. Doctor stuff just goes in one ear and out the other. It’s not in my skill set. Sort of like high school chemistry; I just don’t get it.

It’s convenient for me to rely on Patty and Alice because, thankfully, they both know more than I do, by a long shot. Deep down inside, “medicine” scares me–a lot–and I find it very hard to think about it. I grew up trusting doctors, but that trust evaporated some time ago. I don’t want Dr. Fauci coming within 50 yards of me.

Finally it’s decided I should take one pill a day along with my morning blood pressure pill. If I try to read up on these things it just doesn’t take. Science was always my worst subject in school. I didn’t get better at it later.

Up go the prayers, and hope for the best.

A Song for Robbie (Our Cat)

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I had to take Robbie to the vet today for checkup, blood work, etc. She hates to be in the cat carrier and yowls and cries all the way there. So I tried singing to her, and this was the song I sung: Donovan’s Epistle to Derrol, from 1967.

How about that? It worked!

I’m tired out just now, and have decided to go back to bed for a nap. But it’s pleasant for me to revisit this song… and I hope it’s pleasant for you. Nobody I know of is writing songs like this one anymore.

Let Sleeping Lizards Lie

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1,022 Iguana Sleeping Images, Stock Photos & Vectors | Shutterstock

I find I’m sick of nooze today; so I’ll try something else.

The following story is 100% true. That’ll make for a change.

When I was 12 years old, somebody bought me a baby iguana–a little bitty green thing. My father built a nice cage and in it I put a couple of branches  so he could climb around (the iguana, not my father). He especially liked to snooze on the biggest branch, under the overhead light bulb.

Years went by, the iguana grew very large, and he became far too big for his favorite perch to hold him. If he tried to use it, it bucked this way and that and he usually slipped off.

Obviously it was time to replace the branch, which I did. A nice new branch, big enough to meet a grown boy’s needs.

Guess who sulked on the floor of the cage until his old branch was re-installed. As soon as I’d finished the job, he climbed onto the new perch–and draped his tail lovingly over the old one.

Well, heck, he was 17 years old by then–practically antediluvian, in iguana years. He’d had time to learn many behaviors that would never occur to any wild iguana. If he thought he was a mammal, who was I to correct him?

It’s no mystery why we love our pets, is it?

 

We’re Back (Thanks for Your Prayers)

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Yesterday Patty’s surgeon pronounced her healed, just don’t do any heavy lifting for a while. Thank you all for your prayers.

Today I had to see the eye doctor, get dilated, can’t see, then the bank, then the landlord, then the supermarket, and finally back home and way behind in my work. I’m bushed, I can’t see yet, so let me have a cigar before I try any real writing. Looks like it has stopped raining for a few minutes.

[*Sigh*]

Memory Lane: Paul in the Basket

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Paul Escapes Damascus in a Basket | Bible Fun For Kids

I have many memories of Sunday school, especially those from my earliest years. Some Biblical images stay with you forever: like when you heard of Noah herding the animals aboard the Ark, two by two.

One of those images that’s stayed with me is from Acts 9: 24-25. Paul (when he was still called Saul) was preaching in Damascus–and remember, he originally went there to drag Christians back to Jerusalem so the Temple authorities could punish them. But things have changed.

Anyway, the city authorities decide to kill Paul, now they’re hunting for him up and down the city–but the Christians save him by lowering him down from the city wall in a basket. As a boy of six or seven, I could not resist that image. I understood that Paul was a very important man–like President Eisenhower, or my father. The thought of him peering over the rim of a basket was literally unforgettable.

I’m a big believer in bringing the Bible into a child’s life early on, and I’m glad my parents did so. Mustn’t forget aunts, uncles, and grandparents who also saw to it that children in our family knew who their Savior was.

And I knew who Paul was, too!

I’m Still Beat

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How Do Reptiles Sleep? (2023) - Mattress Clarity

I believe this iguana is snoring. I don’t blame him.

Third day after surgery, Patty is feeling much better and I’m not. Although they cut down many of the trees around here, last fall, I still got hit Saturday with one of those violent 72-hour allergy attacks–you should see the pollen on my windshield.

I had doctors’ appointments scheduled for this week. I’ll postpone them. For two cents I’d just go back to bed.

But it is a sunny, cool spring day out… guess I’ll just have a cigar. Replenish the bird feeder and watch the fun. Yeah, that’s what I’ll do.