Dear Diary – Little did I know when I posted last week, that recording would be the easy part of my job. I started the upload at 11 o’clock at night, only to have it fail 10 minutes in. I tried again…From midnight (when I went to bed) to 2:30 a.m. (when Little Guy left me a message on my laptop), it had failed several more times. I stumbled out of my room just before 4 a.m. and the first of two recordings was nearly finished. I laid on the couch, willing it to keep chugging. I started uploading the second recording and went back to bed. It failed several times throughout the remainder of the night and the morning. The error message kept saying that it had lost contact with the server, and since my parents have had issues for a few months, my Dad called his service provider…twice. The second time (and 14 hours since I started this simple task), the service provider admitted that the issue was at their end. Now what do I do?
Daddy to the rescue! He transferred the second file to a memory stick and took it to his workplace to send it. It arrived in less than 20 minutes.
Dear Diary – On Saturday, we went to an open house of an old church, St. Alban’s. The best part of the trip was when the guide asked me if I was a student!
Dear Diary – Country living means I have had to learn to be a exterminator, and always past my bedtime.
The first big bug Little Guy spotted was hanging from the curtains. It required precariously balancing on my toes, on the couch cushions, armed with a glass and a plate. The plate was mostly to protect my face in case this odd green guy decided to jump! I trapped him in the glass and put him outside.
The next bug was a black beetle that would ping off the ceiling and disappear. It made Little Guy anxious and he didn’t want to go to bed. He joined me in my bedroom, to talk. But when I got up to close the bedroom door (in case the beetle was attracted to light), Little Guy pointed out, loudly and with horror, that it was in my hair. It took a few seconds for me to absorb that information before I flicked it off. Into the corner piled with fabric and puzzles. We were trapped.
They say that parents can exhibit super-human strength in an emergency. In my case, it was super-human calm. I slowly dug through the pile of fabric first; then the puzzles. Once it was cornered, I grabbed an empty travel mug to trap it. But the floor is carpeted…how to get it outside. First, I slid a few sheets of paper under the mug, then left the room to get a plate. When I returned, Little Guy had stacked a few puzzles on top of the mug, just in case… I was able to slide the plate under it and I put it outside.
Little Guy was still too keyed up so I agreed to watch tv with him for awhile. But every few minutes he would ask me if I could hear that, and did I see that? I was barely able to see the tv. We kept pausing the dvd and I investigated, but I saw nothing. Didn’t we already remove the beetle? “I’m not psychotic. I’m not seeing things. Honestly”. I didn’t doubt him; I just wasn’t prepared to stay up all night.
Once the show was over, I went to grab a towel to tuck under his bedroom door. Little Guy was hovering in a different corner of the room when I returned. I just caught sight of it from the corner of my eye, but I couldn’t find it, so I planned to just spray the general area. Instead, I spotted it, covered it with the lid and gave it a little squirt. Uncertain of success, and the clock showing nearly 1, we chose to cover the lid with a bowl and a note that said “bug”. We cleaned up the carcass in the morning.
If things “come in threes”, does that mean I’m done?
Dear Diary – I baked my 10th cake this year. For my Mom’s birthday. It was a Madagascar vanilla and bourbon cake (from a mix -does that count?) and tried a new icing technique. It was so easy. From now on, I think every cake should be iced like an oil painting. Who needs flowers?
Dear Diary – I went out to watch the Perseid Meteor shower alone. It was a perfect night. The sky was so clear, I could see the milky way. The bats and bugs left me alone, but the crickets and tree frogs sang their night songs in a steady thrum. Someone nearby was having a campfire. I could smell the wood smoke, and it made me hungry for hot dogs. I saw several falling stars, some incredibly bright with long tails. They seemed to fly across the sky in slow motion. I couldn’t help but sing:
And as You speak
A hundred billion galaxies are born
In the vapor of Your breath the planets form
If the stars were made to worship so will I
I can see Your heart in everything You’ve made
Every burning star
A signal fire of grace
If creation sings Your praises, so will I
Joel Houston / Benjamin Hastings / Michael Fatkin