Alone

Life anywhere can change in a moment, and just like that, mine did. My beloved husband was called home by his Lord on November 4 and I became a widow. It was an accident, so there was no time to prepare for this, no long drawn-out illness to get through. Shock and disbelief claimed me, even now.

Many questions have been thrown at me over the past several weeks: What will you do now? Will you stay here (in the country)? How will you manage this place? Are you afraid to be out here alone? The answers came to mind immediately: Continue on as usual. Yes. I'm not sure. No.

I feel safer in the country than I did in the city. I don't worry about being alone, but I am lonely especially at night. There are so many things I want to ask my husband how to do and I can't. I am thankful it is winter; the growing season is over and I don't have to worry about mowing and planting yet (and winter fits my mood). But there are other chores to contend with in winter - covering plants, wrapping pipes, draining the sprinkler system. I don't know if I can stay here, if I can keep up this place, but something in me wants to stay and see if I can do it. Of what am I made? My husband used to ask me if I would stay there if something happened to him. I would laugh, say "No, I would move nearer the girls" and than tell him to not ask that question again. But now that it's a reality, I can't leave. It's where I feel him the most. It's our home - his and mine.

So, I will stay. I will learn (it's a pretty steep learning curve ahead of me!) as I go. I have country friends who will help me, and I have city friends with "green acres" envy who are eager for an invitation to ride the tractor for me. It's an adventure I would rather not take, but I will meet the challenge set before me.

Spiders and Scorpions and Snakes, Oh My!

Spiders: Black widows give me the creeps! While I don't especially *like* any spiders, I can live in peace with the varieties that populate my gardens. I appreciate it when the black and yellow garden spiders, the ones with the really big orb webs, bounce as I approach their lair. It makes it easy to see them and stay out of their way. But I really don't like the black widows that hide in secret places. Country life has taught me to never reach into a dark space without first shining a light into it and brushing it out first. I also carry a can of spider kill spray. I don't do squish.

Scorpions:

M: "Ow, ow, ow! (lots of jumping and grabbing foot) Am I gonna die? Oh, my foot, my foot! It hurts, it hurts! Am I gonna die?:

Me: "What happened? Are you okay?"

M: "I stepped on a scorpion. Oh, my foot! Am I gonna die?!!!"

Me: "Yes, you're gonna die"....but not from this!

My city-raised girl will not go barefoot in the house anymore.

Snakes: I looked out the door onto my back porch one day while doing laundry, and resting on the cool concrete near my potted plants was a copperhead. Mouth open, waiting for his prey (the fat toad hiding behind another pot), he waited. I, on the other hand, gave my dogs a withering look and rolled my eyes at them as they lay nonchalantly nearby. Walking to the garage, I grabbed a shovel and crept slowly back to the plants. *Whack* The snake wriggled and squirmed but could not strike as I proceeded to chop its head off. Now, I throw like a girl, even with a tool in hand. Picking up the dead snake with the shovel, I carried it to the woods so the dogs wouldn't try to eat it (or act all brave now that it was dead...). My toss managed to land the snake in a tree, hanging from a branch. Oh, well - I was not going in after it. I showed it to my husband when he got home and he laughed, saying it would serve as a warning to all the other snakes. We haven't seen any since!

Wildfires

It's a sad fact of life in the country - there are no fire hydrants! Recently, a "neighbor" neglected his grill while barbequeing on Father's Day and started a fire. If you remember, we are in a DROUGHT, the worst heat and drought since they have been recording weather in Texas. 5,300 acres burned, 30 homes lost. We did not have to leave, but even so many of the roads were closed off and we were essentially trapped for several days. I am thankful we have a well-stocked pantry!

I started this post in early July. It is now mid-September and we have had yet another wildfire near our home. I've *heard* that this one is suspected arson; I sincerely hope not due to the end result. Accidents are bad enough but someone doing this deliberately? I can't even imagine. It was Labor Day (holidays are dangerous around here!) and my mother called asking if I had seen the plume of smoke in the near distance. I ran outside and there is was, rising up like a demon, black and this and growing rapidly. DH drove down to the corner store (aka the gas station 8 miles away) to get information. Rumors and panic. For 3 days we watched the tv and internet for information, waiting anxiously for it to be contained. On Wednesday, DH had to leave on business and I assured him I would be fine. The fire was nowhere near us.

(Jump to midnight) "Were those sirens?" I asked myself before turning off the tv and looking outside into the black night of the country. I see nothing. I check Facebook, the source of so much information during a crisis, and there it is. URGENT UPDATE: The following streets are being evacuated immediately.... and there is my street name. Of course. I'm home alone and it's the middle of the night. And "yes, those are definitely sirens" as I hear them again. "Ma'am, you have to leave now. The fire has jumped the road and firebreak and is heading this way. Plan to be gone several days. They let people back too early in other areas and had to re-evacuate them. They're not going to make that mistake again."

It's amazing how that can paralyze a person. My mind was going in all different directions, my body wouldn't move. Call my husband. Pack. Take the gifts for other people that you are waiting to give them (because those are important, ha!). Don't forget the dogs. Oh, yeah, and their food and treats and leashes. Random things. I go back 3 times after setting the alarm. I say goodbye - it's not "mine" anyway, only stuff that God has entrusted to me.

I stop on the street when I see the police car talking to a group of neighbors. As I approach, they are trying to decide whether to leave or not. Some do, some don't. I hear the officer ask them for "name, address, date of birth and next of kin" as I get back in the car and drive around the group. I have good friends who are willing to take me and my three 100 lb. dogs in, in the middle of the night. We sit up and talk until I can no longer stay up. DH drives back and arrives early in the morning, with coffee (thank you!!!) and breakfast for everyone.

The end result? We were allowed home after 4 days, although we left our friend the next night (middle of the night again...) once we got a call that our daughter was in labor. We couldn't sleep so we left to welcome our newest granddaughter into the world. Life out of tragedy. Joy out of stress. Our home was fine, but 19,000 acres burned, 78 homes lost. It's so sad to drive through the area and see the devastation. My heart breaks for those who lost everything.

"PRAY FOR RAIN" signs are posted on fence posts all over Texas. We are praying.

Pond life

The drought is still here, although not so much in my spirit any more. We are in the extreme drought stage - you know, the really dark red spots on the weather map. Burn ban. Conserve water. HEAT. It's taking a toll on everything. As a result, our pond is very low but since it's quite large there is still plenty of water in it. Which is good for the wildlife that lives around us. I hear the frogs at night, their chorus swelling in the evening air. As I drive home after dark, the deer are sneaking a drink under cover of darkness, their eyes glowing in the distance as my headlights scan the horizon. Racoons and other small creatures come out, driving the dogs crazy, who consequently awaken us with their incessant barking, "stay away!"

During the day, a blue heron walks the edge of the pond, fishing. Turtles sun themselves on the banks and high spots that are seeing the sun for the first time in years. The dogs cool themselves off with a quick swim around the pond before napping in the shade of a tree.

We are getting a glimpse of life that we do not ordinarily see, one that we would not see if we were still in the city. I like it.

Drought

Hmmm, I guess if one is going to have a blog, one should post things from time to time. There seems to be a drought in this blog. Perhaps the lack of postings comes from the drought in my spirit as of late. Not my soul - to quote the old hymn, "it is well with my soul". I am not dry spiritually, but my spirit is dry. Dusty even. It has been a hard year, this past year, and the nurturing of my spirit has been neglected.

It is not only myself that is dry, but our little piece of Texas between Houston and Austin is also in a drought. The weatherman says it is a 100 year drought - we haven't been this lacking in rain since 1917. Fortunately, we have escaped the wildfires that are whipping across the state. There is a burn ban in effect. The lack of rain, this drought, is the talk of the town. Ranchers trying to keep livestock alive. Farmers trying to keep crops alive. Gardeners trying to keep their gardens alive.

I mowed the lawn this morning. Funny I should have to mow, but we have grass that we water. It is "erosion control" until I can replace it with plants, natives that will require little water. There is something satisfying about mowing - bringing order to chaos around my home. And with the order, my spirit is nurtured. I love the hum of the mower, the rhythm of going round and round the yard one strip at a time. It allows me time to think, to reflect, to pray. The chaos of the past year is being put to rest. Order is being restored.

My spirit is slowly being revived, away from the chaos of the city in the peace of the country. Now, if only it would rain.

Three years and counting.

That is how long I have lived in the country. We moved in on April 1st. "No joke" is what I told my friends.

We bought this small property 10 years ago, put in a well and septic system, moved a mobile home onto it, and pretty much left it alone. But then we became empty nesters, and realized it was time to move. Now, the dilemma was - move to where? My husband REALLY wanted to move to the country; I wasn't sure, but maybe even into the city. It was being "revitalized", after all. Who wouldn't want to be part of that? Hmmm, my husband didn't. He worked in the city and wanted out at the end of the day. Until we could come to a consensus on where to buy a house, we settled on the place we already had. The mobile home, the trailer.

We listed and sold our house in a month. Everything we owned except the basics was put into storage, we moved into the trailer, and my husband went off to work (to the city, where I wanted to be!) leaving me in the country to fend for myself. Of course, our two mixed-lab dogs were out there with me, but being city dogs they didn't exactly like the wide open space either. So we huddled together in the trailer, me and the dogs. Pathetic, I know, but I'm not sure agoraphobia doesn't run in my family. And did I mention our college-attending daughter decided to move home again to attend community college while she was in between universities? Nice...

After a year in the country, I was pretty much sold on living there. So, I looked at my husband and told him we either needed to "remodel" or build a house. We've been in our new house for a little over a year now, and love it! Our daughter chose a new university, enrolled, and moved out. So, we're back to the empty nest. Only this time, we know where we want to be.