Timing Is Everything

After a long day home searching last Thursday, we found something we liked.  Returned Friday evening exhausted. Saturday morning our offer was accepted.

It’s a comfortable two-story house in the country with a wrap-around porch. Previous owners took care of the house and yard well. When we first drove up our realtor remarked it looked like something pictured in Better Homes and Gardens magazine.

We have to move out of our present home by mid-May so the new owners can move in. Timing could not be worse, because of the Corona virus crisis. Hopefully things will calm enough in May for us to move. If not, both buyers and sellers will be in limbo for a few weeks. Meanwhile, there is plenty of packing to do.

One Step Ahead

Plans were laid last December to sell our current home and relocate. We scoured home listings from three different towns in two states.

Then, our home was put on the market.  There were visitors hosted by selling agents for two-and-a-half weeks, then traffic stopped. No one wanted to risk being out with the virus scare.

We’d given up hope.  Surely nothing would happen for weeks, maybe months.  Then this past Friday, someone visited with their agent.  We watched them come and stay for over 30 minutes.  A good sign? 

Late Friday evening there was a call from our real estate agent.  Someone made an offer.  We made a counter offer, buyers accepted, and on Saturday morning, it was official.  We have until mid-May to vacate the property.  We have to find a place to reside.  The search begins in earnest.   

 

The Greater Good

It was the car’s first oil change and checkup. A cold front came through–rare for September. Skies were deceptively blue and beautiful.

Sterile customer waiting rooms typically had libations, pastries, and uncomfortable chairs. It was rare, for me anyway, to strike up conversations, while waiting. Today was different.

Ben, a personable young man, was a rock-climbing instructor. His family was stationed at the nearby, Navy base.

Donna, was an assistant pastor at a local church. Her responsibilities involved church education and outreach.

The thrust of our conversations revealed commonality–we’d all belonged to organizations–church or military, past or present.  Sometimes, bonds formed were greater, than family ties.

Through our collective experiences, we’d learned to get along with others of different backgrounds; because we were part of something greater than ourselves.

“What was it like experiencing a hurricane?” Ben asked.  “It was hectic. Frightening–even.  Evacuations were tense, unpleasant,” I answered.

Gasoline prices spiked the past week, and were still climbing.  Hotels in Northwest Florida were filling with hurricane evacuees.  Bottled water was scarce in local stores.

“Why were hurricanes named after bad people?” Donna asked.  “Ivan, the hurricane, was terrible–like its namesake.”

The name Irma, would forever have bad connotations–just like Katrina.

“If there was ever a hurricane Adolph, we resolved to leave immediately–no questions asked.”

 

 

Morning Thunder

First cup of coffee, this early Saturday morning, to the accompaniment of thunder and lightning.  Backlash from Hermine–perhaps?  Or, am I being punished for being so hard to get along with lately?  Perhaps, it’s some of both.

One thing is for sure–storm fury is amplified under cover of darkness.  All will be well when exposed to the light of day.  The same is true in life.  Storms are frightening, but somewhere, someone needed the rain.

ER Madness

Yesterday, took a surprising twist.  My spouse was having symptoms of a possible heart attack.  She’d been not feeling well since the previous Sunday.

Because of the nature of her complaint,  she was immediately whisked in for analysis.  I was the bystander, while she got poked and prodded.

Five hours later, good news.  No heart problems were found.  That made up for the monotony of monitors that beeped and chirped–and waiting, yes, lots of waiting.

I was amazed at how much was done by computerization.  A far cry from the days of physically taking temps, blood pressure, checking pulses.

When I worked in the ER, things were done in old school ways.  Darkrooms for developing X-Ray film; electro-magnetic paste applied strategically to patient chests for ECG’s.  There’s no way I’d want to go back to that.

A visit to the cardiologist today, and hopefully things will continue to go well.  Wish us luck!

Punchlines

There can never…

Be too many

Tears shed

For lost loved ones

There can never…

Be too many

Sunny, carefree days

Filled with joy

And laughter

There can never…

Be too many

Moonlight nights

I could go on

But, I won’t

Because there

Can never be

Too much hope

There’s still

Too much to give

There’s not always

A punchline

At the end