CCF 2013

The kick-off of the 2013 camping season!  The Christian Campers Fellowship met for a lovely luncheon.

Thirty people showed up for fun and conversation, to discover who survived the winter, and how well.

Al and Margo entertained while we listened with rapt attention!

South of the Border (Barely)

I'm sure the sketch artist meant "Ole!" Dude.

BBBH said to me, "That guy over there keeps looking at me."  Nah, why would he want to do that?

When we got up to leave, the dude walked over and presented the sketch to her.

Memory and Recollection

I have availed myself of the files in my personal memory bank, aka cells in the grey matter, for blog fodder. It has served me well and betrayed me seldom. Yet as I age I have reflected on this thing called “memory” and have a few questions that have gone unanswered to date.

 What started me thinking about this today in particular was this. I took a digital camera to our friends’ flood ravaged home to take a few pictures in case they need them for future reference. I have a two-gig memory chip in the camera, and although I store all my photos in the computer, I leave select ones on the chip so that they are portable and I can inflict them on my friends and family wherever I happen to meet them. As I was attempting to snap the third picture, nothing happened. Almost nothing.  “Out of Memory” message was displayed on the screen.

 Good enough. I now know that a two-gig will hold six hundred pictures. Not a problem, though, and not because I had an extra card with me, but rather because I had not edited the last couple of weeks of shooting, though I had stored everything on the hard drive at home. So I simply deleted twenty or so shots and continued shooting.

 Now to my personal memory. This set me to thinking how marvelous it would be if we could select those memories to save in the memory bank, and pick and choose the ones to delete. It does not work that way. There are many things I would like to access which I can no longer order up from the files. My father, though, averred that everything that had ever impinged itself on memory was still there; we simply fail to have the proper trigger to elicit some items. Be that as it may, I struggle a bit with aphasia and language difficulty. Having been a bit of a language geek, I find it extremely frustrating when in conversation I cannot dredge up the exact word to express my thought, though I know the word and know I know it, but it will not out until an hour later, unbidden and entirely too late to be of use.

 An added benefit to using the delete button for our personal memories might be that we could create additional room for building new memories. This is particularly appealing to me in light of the fact that at my age I often find that I truly can remember stuff, even useless stuff, that happened seven decades ago, but cannot remember where I put my shoes ten minutes ago. (The keys are not a problem, for I keep them in my right-hand front pocket at all times. And that would lead into another issue, because BBBH chides me about carrying stuff in my pockets, which, apparently, the well-dressed man does not do; and she wants a well-dressed man if he’s nothing else.)

 So we live with what we have, not what we dream up. I am thankful for my memory bank and for the fact that it is not empty. Yet, anyway.  I am grateful for the gift of continuity. I am who I am because of the sum total of the experiences I have had, and without memory I wouldn’t be much. There is more to this than I have presented, but this entry is quite long enough.

 Happy memories!

Reclamation

Dick and Heide started the process of reclamation of their home.  This promises to be a long process.

 The front-loader drove through the water and the lawn to rescue Heide and JJ.

 The flower beds are mud covered; the driveway still holds water.

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Step inside!   Squish!

 You may see the water lines on the cabinet doors.

 Muddy, ruined display cases.

Sofa soaked.  So are the magazines.

Just a sample.  The amount of work yet to be done is incredible.  These people will likely be out of their home for sixty days.

Should I be celebrating whilst my friends are suffering?  This is blog post Number 1500 on String Too Short to Tie.

Bob Warr Goes to Church

I learned this morning from Bob Warr that he is still unable to post on his blog.  He told me the church he attended yesterday had removed the organ to make room for the drum set and the humungous speaker set-up.

He said,  "There is a fine line between a joyful noise and a horrendous racket."

Flood Update

Richard called me mid-morning yesterday and reported that the water was entering their domicile.  We made arrangements for me to try to pick them up, though we knew all concerned would have to wade to the meeting point.

I got the car to within three and a half blocks.  There was some dry ground on which to walk, but a lot of wading in water up to the crotch was required.  (I hope my shoes recover-- they are my old stand-bys.)  Did I mention that the air temperature was 37^oF?  Anyway, when I got to the appointed spot a city employee on a front-loader told me that Dick and Heide had already been evacuated.  He took me back to my car.

Without going into a lot of dull detail, I can report that Heide and Dick did arrive at our house.  We are so thankful that we have space to accommodate friends in need of assistance.  They have no idea how long it will be before their home is habitable again.  Flood recovery typically takes time.

Meanwhile, we are enjoying their company, and the company of JJ the Wiener Dog.

More flood news.

Traffic Tickets and Water

Looking south from our driveway.  The black mailbox is ours.  Jefferson Street is flooded from the west edge of town to within a block of the courthouse.  That is five blocks north of Cicero Creek.  I made the mistake of going to town.  I made it there and back, but water washed over the hood of the car when those semis went by.  Well, I had to mail my speeding fine so the gendarmerie from Texas would not come after me.  (I must have a "Kick Me" sign on the back of the RV.  Every time I drive through East Texas on the way home...)  And I didn't do it, either.  That's my story and I'm sticking to it.

Bev Shea

George Beverly Shea  February 1, 1909 - April 16, 2013  RIP

It is reported that this Grammy-winning gospel singer sang to more people face-to-face than any other singer in the history of the world.  His live audience totals in excess of 200,000,000.

I believe I was eighteen when I first heard him in person.  He would have been 43 at the time.

Image:  billygraham.org

Shea singing "I'd Rather Have Jesus."