Depressed

 

I’m depressed.

Actually, I was depressed — and sad.

I know! I know! I seem pretty happy to you and I am pretty happy most of the time.

“What’s going on?” you ask.

Yesterday, Saturday, is usually the day I sit down to start writing my letter blog. But yesterday wasn’t usual. It was Joanie’s funeral. My best girl. She left us on July 27th to begin her walk into eternity with our Lord and Redeemer, Jesus Christ.

And make no mistake — Joan was a strong Christian! Her faith wasn’t just something she talked about, it was something she lived. Even as cancer took its toll on her body, her belief never wavered. If anything, it grew stronger. She faced death the same way she faced life, with grace, courage, and an unwavering trust in God.

Debbie, Joan’s sister-in-law, gave the most beautiful eulogy. She rose from her seat and walked slowly to the microphone, each step measured, as if carrying the weight of every tear in the room. She stood before a packed house, where grief hung heavy in the air—faces streaked with tears, the sound of open sobbing rising like a tide of deep, aching love. Her fingers trembled as she reached for the microphone, but her voice, when it came, carried the strength of someone who loved deeply and dared to speak through sorrow.

 I’ve known Joan for over 40 years. She has been one of my closest friends and my sister. So when she started talking about her passing soon and her funeral, I didn’t want to hear it. I would say, “God is still in control. He still has the power to heal you if it’s His will!”

She would just keep talking and saying, “I don’t want any crying! I want rejoicing and uplifting songs! I want it to be a celebration! I’m going home! I’m gonnna be with Jesus!”

So, after she repeated this a few times I told her, “I’M GOING TO CRY! You can’t tell me not to cry!” Then I cried and promised her I would rejoice through my tears. Because I am happy Joan is HOME with JESUS! But I am absolutely heartbroken my Joan Louise is gone from my life — and I miss her!

Joan held my hand and said, “I know it’s gonna be hard for all of you, but rejoice for me!”

I am going to try to honor Joan Louise today by doing my best to tell you what she asked and to give God the glory. I could tell you lots of stories and memories and shenanigans about her but that’s not what she asked me to do. Joan wants me to tell you about her God! So I’m going to do my best to tell you about Him.

I have already prayed and asked others to pray for God to open hearts and ears to this but also to make sense of what I say. Because, honestly, I am not good at standing up here in front of people, talking.

Joan said, “I need you to do this! Just speak from your heart and God will do the rest!”

Joan didn’t hide her light under a bushel basket. If you knew her, you knew she loved God. She said, “I want everyone to know IT’S A PERSONAL RELATIONSHIP WITH JESUS CHRIST OUR SAVIOR! To have that personal relationship you need to be in His Word daily. I want my Bibles there, at my funeral. I have seven and I want everyone to see them. Tell them I had them in different places and rooms so I had it available always. Tell them to know God you have to be in His Word so He can speak to you — to your heart! Tell them through His Word He guides us. He gives us peace as only God can. Tell them it’s not just going to church every Sunday and it’s not just saying a prayer for forgiveness to get to heaven. It shouldn’t stop there! It needs to be a daily relationship with God, in His Word to grow and witness to others along the way.”

In the hospital, Joan’s Bible was always in plain sight. We read it to her because she couldn’t. When anyone came into her room and asked if she needed anything, she would ask them if they knew Jesus Christ as their Savior because she wanted to see them again in heaven. People knew she loved God.

People came and prayed with her, read her verse from the Bible and sang hymns to her.

Joan knew her time was very near and she had a peace that only God can give. She knew she would soon enter his gates with thanksgiving and into His courts with praise because she was a child of God!

That was Joan’s favorite hymn.

♫I will enter His gates with thanksgiving in my heart; I will enter His courts with praise. I will say, “This is the day that the Lord has made!” I will rejoice for He has made me glad. He has made me glad, He has made me glad. I will rejoice for He has made me glad.♪♫

So her message to each of you today is ask Jesus for forgiveness for your sins and accept Jesus Christ as your Savior and grow a personal relationship with Him. 

Joanie wasn’t just a lady I saw once a week at church; we spoke every day through my morning love notes. She was dearly loved and is deeply missed. 

Besides Joanie’s funeral, I had another reason to be sad.

“Why’s that?” you wanna know.

We had a possum get hit on the road in front of our house. I saw it in the early afternoon when we went to get the mail. A few hours later, a thought surfaced from the recesses of my mind. I’d read somewhere that if you ever come across a dead possum, you should check its pouch because possums can carry babies year-round.

I walked down and found babies scattered all around. Some were beside the road and some had gone in the other direction into the leaf litter. I picked up seven cold, crying, babies that still had their eyes closed. Joeys. I found a passel of joeys. I knew I had to get them warm and hydrated so I made a pouch with my shirt front and carried them home.

“I’ve got seven babies!” I told Miss Rosie.

“Considering how little they are, I won’t be surprised if they die,” she said.

The first mistake I made was warming a little milk and using a dropper to get them to drink. I wasn’t having any luck and decided maybe it would be a good idea to Google it.

“Don’t give them cow’s milk, it could be fatal.”

Okay then. What do I give them?

“Mix one-fourth teaspoon salt and one-teaspoon sugar into one cup warm water.”

So that’s what I did.

But from the get-go, one of the joeys was too far gone and never came around. In the next hour, two more died. But the last four looked like they were getting stronger and squirmier.

“To keep them warm, use a heating pad on low heat.”

I did that, but in the night, two more joeys died.

I went to the feed store and bought some kitten milk replacement.

The lady at the feed store said, “Don’t say it too loud, you’re not supposed to do that.” Meaning, I’m not supposed to try and save the lives of orphaned baby possums.

“What are you supposed to do? Leave them to die?” you ask.

I guess that is one option and that’s the thing most people do. They see possums as pests but not me. I actually have a kind of love for these poor misunderstood creatures. They’re nature’s cleanup crew, eating dead things, even the bones! Every night they can eat up to 2,000 ticks along with other bugs that carry diseases. They control snakes, even venomous ones. They can survive dozens of rattlesnake or coral snake bites and even eat the snakes. And they do NOT carry the rabies virus.

I wasn't going to make them pets, just get them big enough to fend for themselves.

What you’re supposed to do is contact the Pocono Wildlife Center or another rehab center. I decided that I needed to obey the laws and I would call them. Unfortunately, even doing everything right, the last two died the next day.

And I was sad and depressed and blame myself. If I’d’ve gotten them to the experts sooner, maybe they would’ve lived. Consequently, I didn’t feel much like writing yesterday.

“Peg. It’s OK to feel sad,” my beautiful little sister told me. “As I tell Rachel (her daughter) it’s OK to mourn, but for no more than three days when I die! Then it’s time to buck up and move on. This doesn’t go over any better than a room full of balloons and a porcupine.

Every day is a new day.

A new chance.

We will leave the mistakes and sadness of yesterday there and move on.

So today I will visit with you and show you the pictures from my week. 

A squirrel!

There’s nothing remarkable about a squirrel expect that, for living in the country, and having bird feeders out, I seldom see squirrels and never in my backyard. That is, until this week.

I’d gotten up and gone to the sink to draw water for my second cup of morning joe when I glanced out the window and there he was! Sitting on the kitchen patio calmly munching on the seeds the birds had scattered.

As soon as Raini hears me heading for the kitchen door, she comes charging out, nearly knocking me over in her rush to get outside. I had to be quick and quiet to get the pet door locked before she realized what I was up to. She missed it by a few seconds.

She stood at the glass, ears perked, eyes locked on the squirrel outside. Still and alert, she watched, completely focused, like the world had narrowed to that one little visitor. She whined, wanting to get out and chase it, but I ignored her.

I don’t know how long the squirrel stayed but the next time I looked, he was gone.

Speaking of Raini...

I woke up around 2:30 in the morning to the sound of crunching. I thought Raini had found a forgotten dog biscuit and was having a midnight snack.

Crunch, crunch, crunch, followed by lip-smack and I thought that was it.

It wasn’t.

Crunch, crunch, crunch, and I thought she was done for sure.

She wasn’t.

Crunch, crunch, crunch.

And I thought, that dog biscuit wasn’t that big!

I reached overhead and fumbled around on the headboard shelf until I found the little flashlight I kept there. I turned it on and there Raini sat. In the middle of the bedroom floor with half a furry critter lying at her feet. For one heart-stopping second, I thought she had one of the joeys. The cat must’ve gotten it out of its box because Raini couldn’t get on the counter. But no. It wasn’t a joey. It was a fat little, plump little, back half of a field mouse. Sitting on a nearby chair was Spitfire, grinning like the Cheshire Cat. He brought it in and gave it to Raini or she took it from him.

It probably wouldn’t hurt her if I’d’ve let her finish it, but the last thing I needed to hear when I’m going to sleep is the crunching of bones. I got out of bed, took it by its tail, and wearing nothing but my sleep shorts, carried it out and tossed it over the fence. The partial nudity of one fat old lady likely wouldn’t thrill anybody, but since we live out in the middle of nowhere, no one saw me.

I planted a climbing vine against my fence two years ago. This year I got my first flower. I thought I’d planted Mandevilla but this is a Clematis flower. 

I’ve added some new things to the canvas of the mill wall. A big window, a carriage light (that isn’t powered, but could be), and two wall sconces. It makes it more of  a challenge to bounce the ball off the side of the house for Raini.

I’ve been making tin can flowers again. Here are four that I’ve finished and hung on the fence in the front of the house so you see them when you drive in.

This week I sat on the patio and made a bunch more. I only have space to hang about eight pieces when I spray paint them but the humidity was too high this week for me to paint any more. So I’ve been making and stacking them on the patio table.

So many flowers!

A butterfly fluttered in and circled around as if to say, “Here I am! Take my picture!”

He posed quite nicely for me.

This is a Red-spotted Purple butterfly.

          We went out this week. We went to Dushore to pay our taxes. While there we had lunch at the Westside Deli. Mike likes the bacon cheeseburger and I like the Westside Cheesesteak. I took road pictures for you.

          Crossing our bridge, I spot a buck standing in the weeds.

          They were clearing ditches and we were stopped in front of a house that burned several years ago.

          Nature reclaims.

          This house and garage were damaged in the big flood several years ago.

          After lunch we drove up to the graveyard. I noticed a tree growing from the chimney of the old school.

Our little town is getting a Tractor Supply!

Mike’s buddy Lou and his partner are working really hard on Charlie’s old house. They completely gutted the inside, put new floor joists in, new floors, new walls, new half-bath. Tore the old tin roof off and shingled it.

Lou is tearing out old bushes that have been allowed to overgrow for years. He took down dead trees and trimmed the ones he’s going to keep. He tore out an old fence and was going to trash it, until I asked for it.

“You’re welcome to have it!” Lou said. “It saves me from having to trash it.”

I don’t know yet what I’m going to do with it, but I’ll do something with it.

Let’s call this one done!

Bear!

           “Peg! Grab your camera and come here — quick!” Mike excitedly exclaims.

I didn’t waste any time. I dropped the brush and rushed back into the house. I’d been painting glass paint onto a concrete heart on the kitchen patio.

“What?” I asked as I grabbed my cameras and raced through the dining room and into the living room where Mike was standing by the front door.

“There’s a bear in the yard!”

I snapped a picture as the bear walked past the front patio.

“I’m going out,” I said, meaning I was going out onto the enclosed patio.

“He’ll hear you and leave,” Mike said.

He was already leaving so I took a chance.

When he got to the dog run, he turned and headed out.

This bear came up the driveway, circled the yard, and left.

“Maybe he smelled the dogs,” I guessed. Bears have a keen sense of smell, right?

This is only the second bear we’ve both seen. I saw one coming down from the upper barn a couple of summers ago, but he was gone before I could grab my camera and get back out there. Then we had one steal a bucket of sunflower seeds and I got him on the trail camera when he came back the second night.

And that was the excitement for the week!

Speaking of critters...

We watched Randy baling hay for a few minutes while we were out on a golf cart ride with the girls. There were at least three birds circling around. I wondered if the baler was kicking up bugs. 

The twins are getting big!

This guy rode the whole way home from Wysox on the windshield of the car! 

And this little girl!

I’d given Raini something to lick out for me. I don’t remember what anymore and it doesn’t matter, but Raini had what she wanted and walked away. Bondi went to see if there was anything left and Raini decided that maybe she wasn’t done.

“No!” I told Raini. “You let Bondi have some! Go lay down!” and pointed in the opposite direction from where Bondi was. I didn’t want her walking past Bondi and Bondi growling at her. Raini would put her in her place like now!

Raini wasn’t happy but she obeyed.

Pouting, she turned her back on me and laid down. 

I finished the cat mobile.

The first time I made it, I used wire to string the beads hanging under the cats. I didn’t want to use hemp string because I was afraid the strings would break after they’ve been outside for a while. Ask Miss Rosie about that. This time I used fishing line because I wanted it to have more movement than the wire afforded. I got one done, was working on the second one, when the first one let go.

Aye-yi-yi!

That would never do!

I decided the chain would be the best thing. It would be strong and it would move freely. The only problem was the holes in the beads weren’t big enough for the chain to go through.

I’ll drill them out, I thought and went out in the garage for Mike’s set of drill bits. Do you know that I went through four sizes before I found one big enough?

I restrung the beads and bells. I added Hope and Love hearts in between, as per the suggestion from my sister. That’s what I was working on when Mike called me about the bear.

I sure hope California Susan likes it. It’s colorful and fun. If the wind moves it, the bells have a gentle sound. If she doesn’t like them, then I hope she can find them a good home. This kind of stuff doesn’t appeal to everyone and my husband would be one of those. Although he likes my watercolors, the other crafty things I do don’t thrill him.

That night, after spending the day on the patio, I told Mike, “I think I’m getting sick. My lungs hurt.”

“It’s probably the smoke from the wildfires in Canada,” he said.

I hadn’t thought of that. We were under an air quality advisory. But I couldn’t see any smoke and it didn’t look hazy out. So I thought it was fine.

Things we can’t see can hurt us.

I was outside with the girls for the last pee before bed and heard a sound I’d not heard before. I stood there for the longest time trying to decide if what I was hearing was an animal in distress. No. No. I was pretty sure it wasn’t that. It sounded like a bird to me but what kind of birds are out at night?

Guys, it took me way too long to figure out the answer to that question!

Owls are out at night. But the only owl sound that I’ve ever heard and knew it was an owl would be the traditional, “Who!”

I Googled “owl sounds” and discovered that what I’d heard was the screech of a Barn Owl, one of the most common of all owls.

Oh gosh! The kitchen. I’ve had two fails in the kitchen this past week. Well, sorta fails, and sorta this past week. Don’t worry. It wasn’t bad enough that anything got tossed.

“What did you do now, Peg?” you wanna know.

I made coffee cake to take to the church. Four of us were getting together to sort through the donations for the Christmas boxes we pack every year. The cake was done but the top wasn’t very brown. I didn’t want to over bake it so I stuck it under the broiler. Four minutes might’ve been a little long.

“It doesn’t taste burnt,” sweet Annette said.

I had a piece, too, and she was right. It was just fine.

I sent some home for Annette’s husband, Pork. He loves my baking and is one of my biggest fans.

I packed some up for the Kipps. I’d filled the take out container and there was still a big hunk of cake left.

“I really didn’t want to take this home,” I told the girls, but no one else wanted to take any home — probably for the same reason I didn’t! I’d eat it!

We were getting in our cars to leave when a truck drove in. It was Ben, Joanie’s husband, and a grandson.

“Do you want some cake?” I asked.

“Sure. I’ll take some.”

 I thought about giving him the rest of the cake in the pan, but then he’d have to be bothered bringing my pan back. Annette must’ve been thinking along the same lines.

“You want a paper plate for that?” she asked.

“Yeah, that’ll work.”

Annette unlocked the church door and held it open for me.

“I really didn’t want to take this home,” I told her as I went past. The timing for Ben to drive in couldn’t’ve been more perfect! “Thank you, Lord.”

The other thing I did was the week before.

I was make tortillas for tacos.

“Peg, you can buy tortillas pretty cheap, you know?” you say.

I know right! But mine only have four ingredients. Flour, oil, salt, and water — if you call water an ingredient. They’re easy to make and yummy.

Mike wasn’t helping me this time. I thought if I kept the temperature low on my pan, I’d cook them slow enough that I could get the next one rolled out by the time it was done.

Do you know what happens when you cook tortillas on a low heat for too long?

They’re no longer soft shells!

I broke mine apart and made it into a taco salad.

Nothing went to waste but it wasn’t what I’d planned.

Lesson learned.

Oh gosh! As long as we’re on the subject of consumables...

Do you know that I drank a half cup of coffee before I realized I didn’t have any coffee in it!?

“It’s better for you that way,” my handsome neighbor, Lamar, said.

It just shows you how strong I make my coffee. It’s basically hot water with a little color. A half teaspoon of instant granules in two cups of water isn’t much coffee.

Well, loves, that’s all the stories this week.

“Aw, Peg!” you say — or maybe you don’t.

Never fear! I have pictures from our travels. We went grocery shopping in Tunkhannock and took Bondi to the vet for her rabies shot.

I took this from the Veterans Bridge in Wysox using my long lens.

Mixed in are some street shots. I thought I’d show you some of our little towns.

A roof on a shed growing its own ecosystem.

Misty morning (fog, not smoke from the wildfires).

Just a tree that caught my fancy.

Another antique piece in the landscaping at McDonald’s. 

We went to the hotel for birthday dinner. One night out for both our birthdays.

And I’ve got some pictures from our golf cart ride.

I’ve never noticed all these old beer bottles here before. The labels are gone and the lids are rusting.

They’re not the long necks. I wonder what kind of beer they held.

With that, let’s call this one done!