Anna of the Celts by Dean Morrissey

This lovely painting , Anna of the Celts by Dean Morrissey, was a birthday gift from my husband.

My Own Agenda…

My husband is on a mission trip to Central America and I have nine days of my own – waking when I am done sleeping, eating peanut butter and jelly for dinner if I choose, researching my ancestry, and working on my next writing project until the wee hours of the morning. So much for my agenda!

On Monday, a truck turned around in the church parking area, became tangled in the electric wiring, pulling the electrical apparatus from the building, blowing the transformer while strewing live wires down the driveway. My neighbor was at my door with the news. Phoned electric company, insurance, sheriff, (a hit and run) and…so much for Monday. It wasn’t until late Wednesday that all contacts were made, electrician hired, and everything up and running, all while my pastor/husband is sipping mango milkshakes thousands of miles away.

Tuesday, my Co-Director for FIWR, Debora M. Coty and I met for a staff meeting. She says her new website was kidnapped and held for ransom! What is the world coming too?

Thursday evening, I am at the computer reading the scoop on “John, the Bear Hunter,” my illustrious ancestor, and suddenly, the lights go out and the “ups” stays down and I’m in total darkness. “Aha,” says the little voice, “someone has cut your electric wires for calling the sheriff.” I can’t see a thing. I fumble around for my cell phone using it as a light to locate the flashlight. I can do this, I say to myself. I am not afraid of the dark…am I? God is with me. What was I reading about bear hunters…

Sneaking out the patio door and around the hot tub, I see flashing lights at the front of our property. I march out to see what’s up, brave soul that I am, and shine my light on electric company trucks. Heads turn and I see a man in a bucket at the top of an electric pole. He is fixing the wiring. They all stare tiredly at me and I realize I’m in my pajamas. I wave and return quickly to the house. The electric is restored and I go to bed.

Saturday and off to St. Pete where Alicia is competing in the regional Spelling Bee. On the way home, the fuel light indicates that we are low on gas. “No problem,” says my daughter, “we can go another fifty miles after the light.” Sitting along the roadside on a bladder-stretching wait for AAA to bring gasoline, I realize I haven’t eaten since 7:30 am and it is now 3:00 pm. I contemplate how to capture and cook the ducks I see swimming in the nearby pond.

Home at last, but tomorrow is Sunday and a full day of church activities. Monday my husband returns and I am ecstatic. At last, I can do whatever I want!