Lots of Thunder
The skies have been rumbling for several hours. It’s dark out but Dennis tells me it has all gone to the south and east of us. A good shower of rain would have been welcomed. You never can tell how the thunderstorms seem to be gone and they can wangle themselves back.
Dennis did wear himself out yesterday with making several trips to Fleet Farm for the right connections for his hose to be attached directly to the sump pump as the water is pumped up and out of the basement. It doesn’t help matters any that his hands don’t always do as they are directed to. I did stay out of the way until such time that I could help with reeling in the garden hose as he took it off of the secondary sump pump. Looking out of the north dining room window it does seem strange not to see a swamp with standing water in the area of the drain field. Dennis said he would put the direct connections on later this fall. I totally agreed with him.
Tomorrow is Father’s Day. Lots of memories surface. I absolutely know that I had the best father anyone could have had. He taught me how to work and how to appreciate life. I absolutely know that Carrie and Keven had the best father anyone could have had. Orlin was strict and fair and had the same blessing as my father did . . . logic. The logic I see in my children by far passes what can be taught in schooling. Learning aspects is needed, but how it needs to be applied is a true gift. My children and I got the real goods and it serves us well.
My sewing machine is stitching and I have done a bit of extra organization in my sewing studio while it is hard at work. Sometimes the things that I have looked at for a long, long time can all of a sudden be seen in a different light. Yup, what I sew with most frequently needs to be closest at hand. The rest . . . is still important but not so much needed right at a reach away.
Looking at some stitching designs, I am pulling together some fabrics out of my stashes and thinking that they would make a wonderful quilt with some special embroidery when someone special leaves for college. It really isn’t that much of a reach. That someone will be sixteen this December. I don’t like the fact that she is growing up, but I sure do see one mighty fine young lady.
Oh the memories of an older gal . . . me, that still sees her own children as her babies and sees the grand babies as precious wee ones. I know, I know . . . we bring them up to be strong independent people, but I can still reminisce and thank God Almighty for my memories. They sure can get me through a whole bunch of days, weeks, months and years . . . and they are all mine.
Hmm. Maybe the rumbling will still bring some rain.