Mid-March: Tornadoes and Snow and the Wearing of the Green

Yesterday morning did not go the way I planned.  I thought I would get up, do a bit of work on my Lutheran Foundations class paper that is due on Thursday along with some blogging and head to campus at my normal time of 7:15.  We'd been expecting some stormy weather; in fact, I slept with my cell phone in our bedroom just in case there was an overnight alert.

I got up and looked at the weather websites and the radar.  I could see the cold front headed our way, with a huge line of storms, the kind that show up as yellow and red on the radar.  It was in Knoxville when I first woke up, which is about two hours away.  As I kept an eye on the line of storms, I decided that it was wise to hurry up my preparations and head down the mountain to Spartanburg before the storms arrived.  I left the house just after 6 a.m.

Even though I wasn't traveling in severe weather, it was still a harrowing drive.  It was dark, and I no longer drive in the dark much, so when I do, it's hard.  It had been raining, so the lines on the road weren't as clear, and worse, I could see the lines that existed from the time before the interstate renovations and reshaping.  There was quite a wind, even before the storms arrived.

As I pulled into the campus parking lot, it was daylight enough to see the clouds, which looked threatening.  Sure enough, we had a tornado warning an hour later, just when I would normally be arriving.  Even though we've never had a tornado drill, enough people knew where the safe spot in the building was that we were able to get there relatively easily--and happily, it was a big enough space to hold us all.

I thought of the tornado drills of my youth in Montgomery, Alabama.  We'd go to the hallway of the elementary school and sit facing the wall, with a textbook across the back of our heads and necks.  Our space yesterday was much safer, with a reinforced ceiling, so that the two story building was less likely to fall and crush us.

Happily, we didn't test the building strength.  After 15 minutes, we got the all clear and headed back to what we were doing.  But if I'm being honest, I was a bit discombobulated the whole day.  It was the first day back after Spring Break, and when I got to my classroom at 9, I discovered that the sound wasn't working on the in-classroom electronics.  Happily, the tech person came right away, and I had an activity to do while we waited; still, that, too, was discombobulating.

The drive home was less harrowing but still included rain and wind--and oddly, some sunshine here and there at the same time as the rain and the wind.  By late afternoon, when I was safely home and dressed in comfy clothes, it was snowing, in that beautiful way of snow that won't be sticking around.

And now, here we are at Patrick's Day, a feast day that may mean more to non-Christians than Christians--or perhaps, more accurately, to anyone who needs some festivity in the middle of March, whether that festivity be a parade or special foods (soda bread!  corned beef!  cabbage!) or green beer.  If you came here hoping for a blog post on Saint Patrick's Day, head over to this post on my theology blog.

I don't have special Saint Patrick's Day traditions, aside from wearing green.  Elementary school culture shaped me in that way, with vicious pinching for all who forgot to wear green on March 17; I look back on my elementary school days and marvel at what was allowed.  As with tornado preparedness, we weren't really protected at all.

Early Morning Music and the Writing Tasks of the Day

Once again, my writing time is fragmented by all the writing I'm hoping to get done this week-end:  tomorrow's sermon and a meditation for Wednesday night, next week's sermon and a meditation for the last Wednesday in March, and my short paper for Lutheran Confessions class which is due on Thursday.  I can get it all done, but it doesn't leave much time for other writing, like poetry writing or blogging in depth.

Yesterday I also worked some doctor's appointments into my schedule:  our annual eye exams and my 3 month dermatologist exam.  After my melanoma, I'll be going to the dermatologist every three months for the next few years.  Yesterday I had some spots zapped, along with three spots sent in for a biopsy.  Now that I've had the weird melanoma that didn't look like a melanoma, we're both a bit spooked and erring on the side of more information.

By the end of yesterday, I was a bit overwhelmed, so I unplugged for a bit.  This morning I woke up with "Ophelia" by The Band in my head.  I heard it while I was waiting for my skin exam.  My dermatologist has a great playlist, and she told me that she had it done for her exclusively.  There aren't ads, and it's a great mix of music across all genres.

This morning I did a bit of a deep dive into some music by way of YouTube, which has an algorithm for me that I don't resent.  I wanted to see if I was remembering correctly that it was The Band that did "Ophelia," and then I wanted to hear a few more songs that I remember from that Greatest Hits album.  And then there were others, including a dance-in-my-seat session to "Hold On!  I'm Coming."

It was a great way to start the day.  I should probably do it more often.

Home Again after Weather Bogged Down Travels

I made it safely back home yesterday.  Yesterday was the kind of drive where a good chunk of it was done in driving rain mixed with some sleet, snow, and hail.  Many of the drivers zoomed on by me, which is fine, except that three of those drivers had a wreck further on down the road, which made the drive even longer.

It was the kind of weather day when I was almost grateful when traffic came to a stop, so that we could see the lines on the road and the cars around us.  By the time we got moving again, the rain was mostly over.

I thought I would be driving toward bad weather, but it was actually behind me:  my folks got a dusting of snow in Williamsburg yesterday, just 24 hours after we sat outside enjoying the balmy weather.

Today's post will be a short one.  We have eye doctor appointments, and happily, we are the first two appointments of the day.  It does mean that we need to be there at 8 a.m.  So let me get ready.

Mountain Bound after a Good Visit in Williamsburg

Today I have breakfast with my parents in Williamsburg and then head back to the mountains of North Carolina.  I'm not going through the highest elevations, but I might see some snow mixed with the rain that's expected today.  A big cold front is coming through, so I'm grateful not to be expecting tornadoes, particularly when I see the devastation from storms in the middle of the country yesterday.

I've been in Williamsburg visiting my parents, and it's been a good visit.  I'm lucky, in that my visits are always good visits, even ones like back in August, when I arrived to help when my mom suddenly developed life threatening pneumonia.  I'm grateful that my luck continues to hold.

We've done some shopping, picking up some end of winter bargains on clothes--and hey, I'll still get to wear them for the few weeks of winter temps that are likely ahead.  I picked up a pair of festive sandals for a wedding next week-end, along with a festive finishing garment.

We've had great meals.  One of my favorites was the soup supper at my parents' church, one of my church homes away from home.  We had a choice of three soups (corn chowder, vegetable with beef, and chili) and cornbread and sourdough bread.  I love these kinds of soup suppers, and I was glad to be able to be part.

We were there for soup supper because the church does a Lenten Wednesday evening program.  It was meditative and quiet.  We ended with the option to light a small candle from the Paschal candle and put it in the cross-shaped sandbox on a table in front of the Paschal candle.  I wanted to record it, because I liked how it looked.  Is it worth the extra effort to make a sandbox in a specific shape, instead of a big bowl of sand?  Perhaps.  It was lined with 2 layers of heavy plastic, not to protect the wood frame from the flame, but to keep the sand contained.

I didn't take any pictures because I didn't bring my phone to the church.  There wouldn't have been a good way to take pictures, and I wouldn't have wanted to destroy the meditative mood by taking pictures.

On the way home, we stopped at a soft serve ice cream place, the kind that has a small building with a walk-up window and some picnic tables in the parking lot.  It was wonderful to eat ice cream after church and enjoy the freakishly warm weather.

And now to head back, through unsettled weather--the price for a foretaste of summer.

What Time Is It? What Season Is It?

I'm one of those people who wish that we wouldn't turn clocks forward or back, even though I know that if we did that, we'd lose something in terms of darkness and light.  If we had fewer sunsets that came later or fewer sunrises that came earlier, but I don't think I would care.  For me, it doesn't matter if we spring forward or fall back, it takes me weeks to get back to a regular sleep schedule, as regular as my sleep schedule is.

This week, in addition to a time change, we've had a drastic change in the weather--it's been downright hot.  So my sweaty self thinks it's summer, while my light sensitive eyes read spring in the shift in light, while my body is still back in winter in its desire to go to bed early.

I had thought of this time away as having writing residency possibilities, at least in the morning, since I get up hours before my parents.  But instead, I'm tired.  I pulled up some poem rough drafts that I thought I could finish transforming into final drafts, but no, not this morning.  I need to write Sunday's sermon, and if I was really efficient, I'd also write the one for the following Sunday, when we'll be away at a family wedding.

I want to write something more profound as a blog post.  But it won't be this morning.

Happily, Rabbi Rachel Barenblat has written something more profound.  In this blog post, she writes eloquently about why she won't be using AI when she crafts sermons and other religious writing--or any writing:  "My divrei Torah and sermons are love letters, of a kind: they’re love letters to Torah, to God, to my tradition, to the communities I serve. They’re not just communicating information, they’re conveying heart. This may make me old-fashioned. (The fact that I’m still writing longform blog posts on my own blog may also be a sign that I”m old-fashioned!) But it is still my goal to communicate with others without AI mediation. It matters to me that what I share (here and on the bima) are always the words of my own mouth and the meditations of my own heart."

Today my mouth and heart are tired.  Here's hoping for a better day tomorrow.

Of Cars and Headlights and Petrochemicals and Politics

It was somewhat strange, traveling by car yesterday, hearing news of the latest developments of the war in Iran and beyond, wondering how much gas prices would have risen by the time I stopped to refuel.  Last week on Monday morning, gas was still $2.49, and it's hard for me to believe that gas stations sold all that gas before gas prices rose to $2.99 by the end of the day on Wednesday.  I would complain to someone about price gouging but who would listen, much less do anything?

I shouldn't complain:  I've long thought it odd that a gallon of milk costs more than a gallon of gas, since one is renewable and one is not.

As I drove through foggy parts of the mountain, I turned my headlights on and then tried to remember to turn them off again.  In the past, I wouldn't have bothered.  But on Sunday, we replaced both headlights, after a scary-ish time driving back from a pizza place after dark on Friday and realizing that both headlights weren't working.  

We just replaced them in September, so I was surprised not to have headlights on Friday night.  I drove with my brights on, and since many headlights seem to be on permanent brightness to me, I didn't worry overly much.  But that's not a workable solution.

We thought it might be a fuse, but both fuses looked good.  Since the bright lights were working, it didn't seem like a problem with the switch.  What else could it be but bulbs?  

So I bought two more, and my amazing spouse replaced them, and voila!  Hurrah for easy fixes.

I did see on the packaging the notice that a bulb will last for 200 hours.  It's an LED bulb, so I thought it would outlast the life left in the car, but no.  So, yesterday, I only had the lights on when needed.  In the past, I might have left them on until the next time I turned off the engine.

Even if we have to replace the bulbs every 6 months, that's still cheaper than buying a new car.  Over the week-end, my grad school friend and I talked about the delight of a new car, knowing that one won't have car repairs for the first few years.  But we also talked about the puzzlement of a new car--which one should we buy?  Could we find a simpler car, one that might be cheaper both to buy originally and to repair eventually?  Should we think about having some sort of electric/plug in capability?  A few years ago, I would have assumed yes, but now, who knows?

So yesterday, I drove my 2014 Toyota Prius, the subcompact size, through the mountains, across the Piedmont, on and on across North Carolina and then Virginia.  When I get to the Virginia line, every time I think, Hurrah, I'm almost there!  But I'm still 2 hours away from Williamsburg.

I am here with clothes for every season; I even threw a winter-ish coat in the car, my coat which is really more of a longer jacket, but which I wear more than my parka-ish coat.  I don't expect to wear it, but the delight of traveling by car is that I can take many an item that I might not need.

We ended the day as we often do, by watching the NewsHour show on PBS, watching people trying to explain what might be happening on the world stage.  I thought about my headlights, once burning brightly, then burnt out sooner than expected.  I thought about those brave headlights and the human newscasters, trying to function as headlights, showing us parts of the landscape we might not otherwise see. I thought about technology, how we sometimes feel like we're in control of it, but then we're back in the maw of petrochemicals showing us who is really in control--or not.

Spring Break Travels

My spring break is taking on a familiar shape.  I'm headed to my Mom and Dad's house while my spouse stays home to take care of stuff.  I'll be there for a few days and then head back here for doctor's appointments (eye and dermatologist) on Friday.

I'm not leaving until 9.  I don't like driving in the dark in the mountains, and this morning, it's foggy too. May as well stay home until rush hour dies down. It's not an awful rush hour by DC standards or S. Florida standards, but it can get snarled up.

I thought about walking this morning, but my ankle feels really odd--painful, like I shouldn't put too much pressure on it.  So between my painful ankle, the fog, and the time change, I'll likely just take it easy until 9.  Plus I need to finish packing.

As I always do when I travel by car, I'm bringing too much stuff:  my sewing basket, my art supply bag, my laptop, along with normal stuff, like clothes.  My sewing basket may stay in the car, but I'll be happier if I know that I can do some hand stitching if I want to.

Unlike some of our past spring breaks together, we don't have much planned.  We're not traveling, and we won't explore wineries or breweries.  My mom and I will get our hair done, and we'll do some shopping.

But even though it will be a low-key time together, it will be good to be together.  We are none of us getting younger, and it's good to gather while we can.