A Mixed Bag

Holidays in Washington are generally required to include windstorms.  There’s the Columbus Day storm, of course, the big one that took out the Tacoma Narrows Bridge.  There was the Thanksgiving storm of 1983, the Inauguration Day storm of 1993, the Easter Storm of 1996, and the Hanukkah Eve Storm of 2006.

Thursday didn’t seem like a holiday, and I didn’t notice much wind, but for some reason our power went out.  It’s been out for four hours so far but, thanks to the generator we installed after the Hanukkah event in 2006, we have lights, camera, and action.  Our internet is up and running.  My computer is fully charged.  The dishwasher is gurgling away.  All is right with the world.

I’m told that down on the street there are three Puget Power Trucks with workers out there trying to make things right again, but I’m okay. Maybe one of our neighbors was trying to cut down a tree in order to improve a view of downtown Bellevue.  If so, they got more than they bargained for.

So that’s part of today.  Thursday.

Books have banana peels?Another part of today has been writing.  I am on the banana peel of this book.  Finally.  Finding the banana peel has been, as Helen Reddy would say, “A long hard climb, with everything taking its own sweet time.”  The banana peel of a book is the part of the book that, once you get there, either as a writer or as a reader, you don’t want to quit until you’re done.

So having electrical problems at the house both yesterday and today was a bit problematic.  But I’m on it now.  And I would probably finish tonight, except I have a prior engagement.

Tonight, a friend of mine, a woman nearing sixty, is graduating from a first responder chaplaincy course at the Washington Criminal Justice Training Center.  She has had her degree in theology for many years and has worked as both a patient and victim advocate at various jurisdictions in Oregon.  Then she took a multi-decade detour to care for a: small children and b: a terminally ill husband.

Now her children are grown, and two years after losing her beloved husband, she is taking the necessary steps to live her dream. Bill and I are going to be there tonight to cheer her on.

We both know a little about having our hearts broken and then somehow finding the strength to get back up and go on.

In other words, this is a day of many mixed blessings.  And that’s exactly what life is most of the time.  Some good, some bad, but mostly more good than bad. Which reminds me of something my mother used to say:  It’s a great life if you don’t weaken.

2 thoughts on “A Mixed Bag

  1. A very nice post as usual.
    Mixed blessings always. I just finshed watching the memorial we did for my son, Bob. We laughed and we cried but he brought so much to other people’s lives that you can’t be too sad over a life like his. So many mixed blessings in everyone’s lives, you just have to look for them.

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