Real People ... Real Prayers

My Apartment Is So Little That...

-My apartment is so little that I vacuum with a dust buster. (Seriously)
-My apartment is so little that I can hit the garbage disposal in the sink with my pizza crust while laying in bed. (I've done it.)
-My apartment is so little that the headboard of my bed is my old air mattress and it covers 1/3 the length of the wall.
-My apartment is so little that I can prop my feet up on my bed from either of my chairs OR from my two kitchen chairs.
-My apartment is so little that I can (and have) thrown a potato chip from my bed, out the patio door and off the balcony.
-My apartment is so little that I I have one heat duct.
-My apartment is so little that my total cabinet counter space is eight inches wide.
-My apartment is so little that my laptop's "hibernate" light illuminates the entire room
-My apartment is so little that the microwave sits on the burners of the stove.
-My apartment is so little that there is no kitchen cabinet big enough to hang a paper towel holder under.
-My apartment is so little that when you take a shower in the bathroom you have to crack the patio door open in the living room/bedroom/kitchen to clear the mirror.

Ten Reasons Why I Miss My Granddaughter, Elle

1. I miss her because when we see each other she hugs me, burying her head in my shoulder and not letting go for at least 5 minutes. I melt. Every time. She makes me feel like the only person in the world.

2. I miss her because she sings songs to me. Actually, she sings medley's that only she knows. Because she cannot sing one entire song she mixes as many as she wants and turns them into one beautiful solo.

3. I miss her because she lets me sit next to her on her potty chair and read to her while she pretends like she knows why she is there.

4. I miss her because she lets me crawl in her tunnel with her even though my shoulders are too big to really fit. She still meets me in the middle, laughs, and kisses me all over my face.

5. I miss her because she acts just like my daughter did when she was 20 months old and she was the first 20 month old that I ever was madly, crazy in love with.

6. I miss her because she sits on my lap and we read books. Sometimes we actually read the entire book before she turns a page prematurely.

7. I miss her because all I have to do to make her happy is to be there. She doesn't expect anything else. Just being there is enough for her.

8. I miss her because she defines "love."

9. I miss her because she thinks a laptop computer is named "Grandpa." She sees me on it's screen more than in real life.

10. I miss her because I'm not with her.

Bob Evans ... down in the farm

I have nothing to blog about. You think that's going to stop me? Has it ever? Quick answer: No. So why start now?

Well, Sunday has come and Sunday has gone. Almost. We flipped the switch on our new sound system at church today. Very cool. Last week people were complaining that they could not hear. This week? It's too loud. I would not be a "sound guy" for any amount of money. Okay, that's not true. I could be a sound man mercenary very easily. But no one seems anxious to pay me to do it. That's for the best. I have no idea what all of those little knobs are for.

Debbie and I came back to the apartment bringing our fast food lunch in tow. Mid way through the afternoon she decided to make me cookies. (She's the best.) Well, being a nearly 4 month resident of this apartment never required me to turn the oven on. She was the first. Evidently whoever lived here last, or whoever cleaned the apartment before we moved in, decided to clean the oven. And they must have used one of those canned over cleaner chemical things. This is not good news for an asthmatic. Within 5 minutes the smoke alarm was going off. Within half an hour she was not breathing too well. (Too good? Whatever.) She limped her way through church tonight while taking a nebulizer treatment. Then we went to my favorite biscuits and gravy place, Bob Evans. (He's not really down on the farm. He's down IN the farm. stone cold ... dead. But the biscuits are still good.) After woofing down supper we came back to the apartment. I was very hesitant. I entered first and, smelling nothing peculiar, allowed her in. She was really struggling. As we were pulling into the parking garage I had noticed that it was lightening out over Lake Erie. So I opened the patio door about a foot and proceeded to get Debbie as comfortable as possible, propped up in her favorite $59.99 chair. (Sarcasm ... just one of our many services. And, by the way, her chair was not outside the door. It just sounded that way.) I went back and sat by the door as the storm rolled in. Lightening flashed, thunder rolled, rain came in buckets and, best of all, the wind blew. It blew refreshing cool, clean breezes into our little cozy home. It cleaned our air. Debbie is breathing easier now. She is relaxing. Soon she'll be asleep. Tomorrow morning she has to be at work at 7:00 AM. I have prayed over her and trust that God will refresh her and give her all the strength and energy she needs to tackle 8 hours at the Marriott.

God is good.