A month or so ago I found out that a widow in our ward
had had a large snake in her house. I laughed sympathetically as I've had
similar circumstances. But when two weeks later I got the chance to
visit with her personally; I found that, unlike the happy
ending in Goldilocks, it was still there.
She was too nervous to sleep in the house,
and instead had set up a tent outside.
Have I ever mentioned how hot it is:
In August?
With no air conditioning or fan?
With 108 degree temps?
And 90% humidity?
It's hot enough that Hydn frequently
(and against all discouragement)
finds our dog's trick,
of rolling in the dirt to stay cool,
somewhat useful.
.
It's hot enough that Maddie can fry an egg on the roof.
It's just flat out hot!
And I was beyond horrified that somebody I knew would be in such circumstances.
I told her that we (kids and I) would be over the very next day;
and that while I was usually a ninny in such circumstances,
that I would make a point in this case to suck it up.
And that we would not leave
until she was once again happily situated in her own bed.
Little did I know what this entailed.
She's from the same generation as my mother;
meaning that saving items is equivalent to Divinity.
Each and every item had to be moved out of the way
(and she had enough food storage
to put Provident Pantry to shame.)
While we came across several skins, and more holes to plug than we had filler,
we never found the snake, and despite the offer, she chose to stay in her tent.
We left disheartened, and a little less weary of
our own problems. I know that a month later
she's yet to capture her snake. But I haven't had the heart
to ask if she ever moved back in.
Either way, I don't think I want to know the answer.
Meanwhile, after hours of intensive search, we went next door to get
a glass of water and visit. This sweet lady's name is Sister Apple
The bush she is standing by is called 'Poke'. She takes a handful each night,
boils it like spinach, and serves it as a side dish with her supper. She wondered if we
might like some. I told her we would love it.
She gave us a start, as well as a frozen bag of leftovers.
We brought it home, planted the start in a likely spot, anxiously awaited
it's yield, and threw the frozen bag back into the freezer
for another day.
However not more than a week later we had a neighbor,
who owns a small ranch,
who saw the plant,
and said, "Oh, that's Poke."
We nodded sagely.
He continued, "Better rip it out before it gets too big. That stuffs
down right poisonous."
?
Do we believe the experienced rancher, or the sweet lady who looks
as if she'll see 100?
Maybe we should have them both over for a showdown.
Whoever could tell us why, when we weeded more than ever this year,
we got the least yield, would win.
Because it was very disappointing.
Good thing for a successful border of flowers.
The bugs weren't bad either.
similar circumstances. But when two weeks later I got the chance to
visit with her personally; I found that, unlike the happy
ending in Goldilocks, it was still there.
She was too nervous to sleep in the house,
and instead had set up a tent outside.
Have I ever mentioned how hot it is:
In August?
With no air conditioning or fan?
With 108 degree temps?
And 90% humidity?
It's hot enough that Hydn frequently
(and against all discouragement)
finds our dog's trick,
of rolling in the dirt to stay cool,
somewhat useful.
.It's hot enough that Maddie can fry an egg on the roof.
It's just flat out hot!And I was beyond horrified that somebody I knew would be in such circumstances.
I told her that we (kids and I) would be over the very next day;
and that while I was usually a ninny in such circumstances,
that I would make a point in this case to suck it up.
And that we would not leave
until she was once again happily situated in her own bed.
Little did I know what this entailed.
She's from the same generation as my mother;
meaning that saving items is equivalent to Divinity.
Each and every item had to be moved out of the way
(and she had enough food storage
to put Provident Pantry to shame.)
While we came across several skins, and more holes to plug than we had filler,
we never found the snake, and despite the offer, she chose to stay in her tent.
We left disheartened, and a little less weary of
our own problems. I know that a month later
she's yet to capture her snake. But I haven't had the heart
to ask if she ever moved back in.
Either way, I don't think I want to know the answer.
Meanwhile, after hours of intensive search, we went next door to get
a glass of water and visit. This sweet lady's name is Sister Apple
The bush she is standing by is called 'Poke'. She takes a handful each night,boils it like spinach, and serves it as a side dish with her supper. She wondered if we
might like some. I told her we would love it.
She gave us a start, as well as a frozen bag of leftovers.
We brought it home, planted the start in a likely spot, anxiously awaited
it's yield, and threw the frozen bag back into the freezer
for another day.
However not more than a week later we had a neighbor,
who owns a small ranch,
who saw the plant,
and said, "Oh, that's Poke."
We nodded sagely.
He continued, "Better rip it out before it gets too big. That stuffs
down right poisonous."
?
Do we believe the experienced rancher, or the sweet lady who looks
as if she'll see 100?
Maybe we should have them both over for a showdown.
Whoever could tell us why, when we weeded more than ever this year,
we got the least yield, would win.
Because it was very disappointing.Good thing for a successful border of flowers.
The bugs weren't bad either.
