perspective
It's my birthday, and I can take a "soot break" if I want to.
Last evening, just before sitting down to a lovely birthday dinner (served one day early because of tight scheduling) Hubby & I were chatting in the driveway with a few drop-by friends when we were treated to a light-show. Our chimney was spurting bright orange flames and angry sparks into the night sky. The men jumped into action by pulling a hose from the garage to wet down the roof. Then they inspected the wood stove and inside-chimney carefully before deciding to douse the stove's coals and shoot the contents of a few fire extinquishers up the pipe opening. This brave (yet necessary) decision sent plumes of soot and chemicals shooting through my kitchen. The floor was soon blanketed with silty drifts of ash which were consequently tramped through in order to find old sheets and towels to contain the damage. Others dashed to the windows and lifted all the sashes, threw open the doors, and employed a few fans to direct the smoke and chemical smells outside. Dinner was covered in dish towels. I closed the piano lid. We all coughed and moaned; me especially because all I was thinking of was "THE DUST."
At times like this, I need to have a bigger picture. Yes, I am grateful we still have a house! But a bucket and rag have been my constant companions today, and I feel every bit like Cinderella. I smell like her, too.
Let's wrap this post up on the "upside". Our friends Eugene and Joy Greco came over for a visit today. They are en route to Spain where they will live and minister full-time. They're not afraid of no soot. We ate bagels in the decontaminated family room. Eugene gladly played my piano (after wiping off the leather bench) and sang with the beautiful high-baritone voice that I remember and love. Joy picked up my alto recorder. #1 Son fiddled along. And I was resplendent on the antique couch, soaking in my birthday gift from God. Every sooty hair on my head tingled with birthday happiness.
Wood, hay and stubble can burn or rot away, and they are not my true portion, for sure. The Giver of Good and Lasting Gifts visited my dusty tent today and offered me a peek of heaven. Just a peek, mind you. More than enough to make me roll up my sleeves and dive back into a bucket of soapy water.
Add to our family Christmas list: a few fire extinquishers. Just in case.
Last evening, just before sitting down to a lovely birthday dinner (served one day early because of tight scheduling) Hubby & I were chatting in the driveway with a few drop-by friends when we were treated to a light-show. Our chimney was spurting bright orange flames and angry sparks into the night sky. The men jumped into action by pulling a hose from the garage to wet down the roof. Then they inspected the wood stove and inside-chimney carefully before deciding to douse the stove's coals and shoot the contents of a few fire extinquishers up the pipe opening. This brave (yet necessary) decision sent plumes of soot and chemicals shooting through my kitchen. The floor was soon blanketed with silty drifts of ash which were consequently tramped through in order to find old sheets and towels to contain the damage. Others dashed to the windows and lifted all the sashes, threw open the doors, and employed a few fans to direct the smoke and chemical smells outside. Dinner was covered in dish towels. I closed the piano lid. We all coughed and moaned; me especially because all I was thinking of was "THE DUST."
At times like this, I need to have a bigger picture. Yes, I am grateful we still have a house! But a bucket and rag have been my constant companions today, and I feel every bit like Cinderella. I smell like her, too.
Let's wrap this post up on the "upside". Our friends Eugene and Joy Greco came over for a visit today. They are en route to Spain where they will live and minister full-time. They're not afraid of no soot. We ate bagels in the decontaminated family room. Eugene gladly played my piano (after wiping off the leather bench) and sang with the beautiful high-baritone voice that I remember and love. Joy picked up my alto recorder. #1 Son fiddled along. And I was resplendent on the antique couch, soaking in my birthday gift from God. Every sooty hair on my head tingled with birthday happiness.
Wood, hay and stubble can burn or rot away, and they are not my true portion, for sure. The Giver of Good and Lasting Gifts visited my dusty tent today and offered me a peek of heaven. Just a peek, mind you. More than enough to make me roll up my sleeves and dive back into a bucket of soapy water.
Add to our family Christmas list: a few fire extinquishers. Just in case.
posted by thisrequiresthought at 2:43 PM
2 Comments:
What can say other than wow. Sounds like you're having quite the day. Let me know if you need some help cleaning...I'll gladly come over with my bucket, rags, and muscles.
Happy birthday.
P.S. No wonder you didn't answer the phone earlier when I called.
I'm so thankful that our LORD didn't allow you to have the loss Satan had planned! See you tomorrow, when I have my pocketbook back again, seeing I left in Dori's car. I really should have bought a new purse before going to CO, when I thought of it. Maybe I would not have left it behind on the plane or in her car. It really does pay to follow hunches, eh, Bill? Sure glad you went after the pump for the other heater, so you had heat.
Post a Comment
<< Home