My Journey's

 

A carefree drive

destination unknown

white lines flicker by

Clouds sprinkle horizon

leaves golden brown

sunlight sparkles 

Car tires hum

music explodes in ears

body moves in sync

Sunroof open

wind lifts tendrils

blows across eyes

An adventure waits

anticipation tickles

smile creases lips

Intention lies in

 no certain place 

 only journey of heart.

Teresa Gale

12/4/22

In in the midst of 2020 Coronavirus, life goes on. Flowers are blooming, birds are chirping and the sound of lawnmowers hum in the background. We, through God are resilient. 

Looking out my back window, I see the buds of May on my low hanging branches, the wind chimes are tinkling in a chorus with the breeze. This makes me smile, it is God reminding me He still controls this world and he is with me. 

It’s been a few years since I posted here last. My writing was pushed aside. Till today that is, as I found God nudging me back. To use this thing, this wicked virus to come back to life, to write, to sing my words if only, yes, if only for me and Him. 

As I look back over the years, many though they are, He reminds me, He has always had His hand on me. He has brought me through many storms in my life, horrible storms. I have weathered them all and I will again. As long as I keep Him in sight. 

Blessings,

Teresa Gale
2020

Sixty and Whose Counting?

Age, it’s really just a number, right? I have never really looked my age, when I was a mere 13 years old, people thought I was in my twenties. Now that I am sixty, people tell me I look younger. I was, however, born an old soul. I have lived many, many lives. I am not talking the mystic reincarnation, but in my own lifetime.

One of my most favorite poems, written by the great, Stanley Kunitz, is titled “The Layers”. The poem resonates in my soul. I feel, as Kunitz, wrote, “ I have walked through many lives, “ . My journey has not always been easy, if it were, I would not be whom I am today. So, I breathe deep, take in the lessons I have gathered in me and strive to move forward. Moving forward requires my aging, getting older. Why fight it when so many I have loved never made it this far.

I tell myself, the number does not bother me, and it truly does not. What does bother me is the fact I have left many things undone. So here I sit at the grand age of sixty contemplating what I can do about it. The past is done, I cannot go back, nor would I want. I can only strive to do the things that really matter and treasure this age.

Today is the day, a new day left wide open. I shall walk into it not in fear, but in praise of the One who has given me this most precious gift. I can only imagine what lies ahead, and I am ready.

Teresa Gale
2017

My Year of 59

Age is not anything to run away from, it's a celebration of life and love. So my year of 59, began as an awareness of leaving parts of the past behind and taking a journey to trying, doing, and experiencing not only new things, but life itself.

In recent years I have faced some debilitating heath issues that both frustrated me and whirled me into a depression of sorts. I am not a " oh feel sorry for me" person, but I did find myself in, "woe is me" mode for a time. I was shaken out of this dismal state shortly after watching my father succumb to his own health issues. He was chair bound for a few years and grew weaker and weaker by day. It hurt my heart to see this once strong, vital, full of life man become a victim of his illness.

Not long after his death I woke up from my own foggy sleep and began to lift myself into action. I decided I could stay still and allow this to beat me or I could live the life God blessed me with one day at a time. I began to move, slowly at first and painfully back into my life.

The year of 59, is the start of new discovery, letting go of what I no longer can do and embrace what I can do. I am not placing limitations on my self, I am living each day with purpose. I am embracing this older self and making peace with my crinkled neck, crows feet and gray hair, well maybe not the gray hair just yet.There are some days I have to make a concerted effort to push past the pain and go forward.

I lost a dear friend last year who had been trapped unwillingly with ALS. Her spirit and love of God so inspired me. She is a remarkable woman who has forever touched my heart and soul. I miss her dearly and keep her often wise words close to my heart daily. I will not allow my faith be shaken. I believe, as she did, God has a purpose and plan for each of us.

So here I go on my new journey. I will live each day with determination, faith in God, and with the grace my friend Beth instilled in me.

Teresa Gale
2/26/17

Outside My Window

Blue skies peek through bare-limbed trees,
A gentle breeze furls the tall tree in dance.
The veins of tree limbs stretch heavenward
A celebration of Praise.

A nod of branch comes my way by greeting of
This new day.
Oh! To be like the tree...unafraid
Of their nakedness.

Arms stretch in frozen dance of joy,
Lines etch the years upon its face.
Yet beauty in age is present in time worn trunk.

Constantly limbs outstretched in prayer and praise.
Witness of seasons, each full of beauty.
Patience in waiting for what comes next.

Oh! To be like the tree,
Fearless and strong enough to bend.


Teresa Gale
2/22/16

Forever Friends

Friendship, true friendship is rare in this world. I have had many, many friends, some that I had imagined would last me a life time. Out of all the friends I have had in my life, only a select few have remained.      

My two oldest friends I met back in the dark ages of high school when I was a mere twelve years old are my most cherished antiques, (I mean that with love girls). We have gone through much together and apart, but have stuck like glue. When I think back to our early years, I smile at the memories. We knew nothing back in the day, but we sure thought we did.

It took me several years to realize that these two were destined to be life-long friends. My life had been full of losses so this came as a wonderful surprise to me. We have each had our share of grief, of miss-understandings, of good times and of bad. We shared date nights together, marriage, break-ups, more marriages and babies. We weathered the divorces, the deaths, the births and life’s challenges beside each other, even when we lived in three different states.

Through our friendship, we often lose touch, rarely call, hardly write, but always our hearts meet. We have vowed now in our ancient years to get together yearly, however, life has a habit of getting in our way. Yet we still manage, between the distances, the silences and infrequent visits to meet here and there. When we do, the miles, years and silences are erased. We pick right up where we left off, a little older, a little grayer, (those of us who dye our hair will never reveal how gray we have become) and much wiser. At least we like to think we have grown wiser.

I have marveled over these two ladies and how blessed I am to have them in my life. They are sisters of my heart and treasured. We joke often we will retire together on a beach front nursing home with reserved rocking chairs. I know we will cause a stir in that old folks’ home.

We are each so different, yet a like. I always saw us as the loud one, the quiet one and the one who is a little of both. I am sure you gals can figure out who is who. *wink*. We are passionate about our lives, our friendships and our belief in God. We have skated through life and known if one of us called, we would be there to catch the other when they fell.

Back in the day of long distance phone calls, one of these ladies spent hours and hours checking on me when I was going through a rather horrible time in my life. Her phone bill must have been more than my house payment. She showed up again years later after I lost a loved one and had bought a house. She came with paint brush in hand and warm arms for me to cry on. She has showed up, time and time again. I will never forget that my friend.

Nor will I forget those days of young motherhood when my other dear friend and I would daily chat about the challenges of raising our kids, the long sleepless nights, burnt dinners and endless trips to doctors. We shared our nursing and birth stories like soldiers off in battle and gave advice freely if not always solicited. We visited together with toddlers in tow any chance we could get and had children close in ages. I will always remember those days fondly and miss them dearly.

I have two other dear friends I have collected in recent years who have warmed my heart, inspired me to grow in my beliefs and my writings. They are my treasures of every day talks and walks through life.

Friendship is not for the weak of heart; you have to show up to be a true friend. You have to have a listening ear, a quiet mouth, a soft touch and years of knowledge on subjects you have never experienced. Friends pray for each other. True friends are also there to call you on the carpet when need be and one of us might even throw a hamburger at your car window and walk the steam for a few miles later laughing. (Inside joke for one of you) We have survived these little tiffs together and separate which made our bond stronger.

I am so very blessed, so very thankful for the ladies in my life and marvel they can even put up with my moods. Thank you ladies, for the time of my life and I pray for many, many more years together. I love you more.

Teresa Gale

Fall Melody

Fall Melody

A canopy of leaves

unfurl like smoke,

as the wind tosses.

Limbs reach out,

loving hands

brushing cheeks.

Looking skyward

towards the aging limbs;

twisted and gnarled

akin to arthritic fingers

beckoning to follow.

In the winter

of it’s age,

whispers can be

heard in the rustle

of brittle leaves.

“Be still”

the whisper calls.

Heart listens,

then obeys.

Teresa Gale

C 2004

Trust

It was a dark and stormy night. No wrong, it was a sun filled day of flowers and birds. Nope not right either. The heavy snow twirled and danced caught glimmering in the headlights, mesmerizing me in to a hypnotic daze....nope, that won't do either.

Where does one begin to write a novel? Please, someone tell me the secret. I am not a planner by any means of the word. I hate editing, despise it truthfully. I am a writer of the heart. My emotions pour out of me, bleeding on the pages. Characters are often real people in my life, those that have touched me one way or another. 

Writing is tough. Whoever thinks you just sit down and write is either a genius or has never attempted to give birth to a story. However, I have written. I have written poetry, stories, long letters, speeches for weddings, retirements, holidays and a couple of unedited novels. They sit in drawers, file folders on my office floor, and some of my writing has been published via the Internet. 

Today, I rustled through my dusty and unused office to find the one story that has been begging me to read and edit. My muse has been encouraging me to write again. Thanks dear friend Tina. So, my mission was to unearth it from under the clutter where I left it back in 2011. My first novel that I actually found an ending to.

It is sitting next to me at this very moment, my palms have grown sweaty and my heart has picked up speed. Fear knots my stomach as I turn over in my mind if I should just bury it in my grave pile of other writings and run, do not walk away from it.

I have recently been taking a creative art journaling course, playing with paint, (truthfully something I have no talent) and words. See above photo. It is unclogging my long hidden away God given gift to create again. I am rusty, weak in the knees and my own worst critic. Yet this journey in art has allowed the little girl I was never allowed to be, come out and play. 

My novel needs to be read, edited and seared once again in my heart. It is my long journey towards forgiveness and understanding someone very important in my life. It is due to the fact this was written from my heart and guided by God, that makes me want to finish it. However, in doing so, it will return me to another long and painful journey of the past.

My fear is....hard to word...facing the scary parts of my life and accepting who I am because of it. It's personal, it's painful yet is full of love. 

Earl Nightengale once stated; " Don't let the fear of the time it will take to accomplish something stand in the way of your doing it. The time will pass anyway; we might just as well put that passing time to the best possible use."

The course I am taking is teaching me to let go of fear and flow. I am learning to brave my fears of not being good enough to being satisfied with challenging myself to try. My novel is part of me, my baby, my growth, my journey towards forgiveness and allowing myself to love.

The story is waiting for me. I will take the steps to complete my journey and be satisfied. Is there something you fear? Are you putting off becoming the person God has designed you to be? Are there others out there like me ready to take a step beyond your comfort zone? I would invite you to step with me and reach your dreams.

Teresa Gale

Good Morning! 

 

It's Friday! I woke up with my normal aches and pains, stumbled out of bed and grabbed my dark rich coffee, liquid energy as I call it. Ahh! 

Mornings are good to reflect, prepare and by prepare I mean pray, read and catch up on family news. 

My oldest daughter traveled out west this past week to see her sister. I have been keeping track of their visit together on Facebook. I love the family photos, the smiles, the times they are sharing together making more memories. Today Jennifer, my oldest and my oldest grandson Jordan will return back home. Parting is never easy. I know each time I am with any of my children no matter how short or how long the visit, it tears my heart to leave. This is no different when your children live so far away. You wish to hold them tight, tighter, tighter even and never let them go.

"Sigh..." I got all teary eyed as I viewed the photos from last nights hugs and kisses between my grandchildren, my daughters and my son in law. I know today as she boards the plane, she will leave part of her heart with Suzanne. I know this, because I have done the same. I posted for them to cherish the times together for this is the purest of gifts.

A mother, always wants her children close. However, we also wish them wings to fly. I know I have lived far from my parents, my family for most of my life. I did what I had to do to raise my family, but...I have missed so many things, so much time together. So now, I try to make the most of it. We all need to make the most of it. 

The bible is full of stories where children wander off to the great unknowns building lives. It is the circle of life. It is not God's plan to hold our children back from His plans, whatever they may be. As a Christian mom, I have faith that the decisions they make will all be for His greater plan. I pray that in the mornings, as I wake in the middle of the night when one or all of them cross my mind. I lie awake wondering about each of the six children we are blessed with and all the little grandchildren as well.

As much as my heart aches, as much as I dream of owning a huge property where all my loved ones can dwell together, I have to be at peace knowing we carry each other in our hearts.

God's gift to me this morning as I hobbled out the front door, was to bless me with the beautiful flower above. His promise to me that he cares for each little one and has them in his hands. As I passed by this happy Daisy, my heart soared as I knew each of my children bloom where they are planted by His loving hand. I smile when I see my favorite flower gracing my morning. Thank you God for promises.

Be safe my loves and come home soon.

Love you more,

Teresa Gale

Momma T

Writing

I am writing. Yes, me, writing. It's been a long time since I have unclogged my words and let them flow. I have always been a writer of emotion, I write what I feel. So, I started the old fashioned way, got out a notebook, my favorite pen and began.

Writing with ink and paper prevents the critical me to keep fine tuning and blocking the flow. When I type, I stare endlessly at the stark white page, freeze, delete, reword, correct and finally get two sentences. Whew! Not worth it.

So, I decided after some discussion with a fellow writer friend, to begin from scratch, no editing, just write. It's working, to my amazement. Not that I have gotten far, but that does not matter. I am pouring words out on a page and seeing an idea form, editing will come later.

I am not sure what direction I am headed, I have decided against a map, characters and no names to protect the innocent writer. I am creating. I am hungry for words, I am fighting my way out of the abyss of wordless existence and forging ahead. 

Today I read a quote by Woody Allen who once said. "80 percent of life is showing up". I like that, so I am showing up, what do I have to lose?

Teresa Gale

The Long Road to Joy

Joy has always seemed most elusive in my life, mainly because I am my own worst enemy, constantly dwelling on being responsible, serious, accountable in life. Being a Martha in life, when I should be a Mary sitting quiet at the feet of my Lord.

I feel a new season in my life approaching this old woman who wishes to find the girl inside screaming to be let out. I wish to play more, create more, write more and just live more. I do believe God wants us to be happy, to be full of joy. He did not create me to be so joyless.

My destiny is to create, to use my God given gifts to write, to reach beyond myself and to enjoy this life. My sometimes too intense emotions make me a prisoner in myself allowing fear to rule my soul. There has always been a deep need that requires my letting go of the fear.

I feel it today as I sit in my dads chair back home. His passing left a void in me that is irreplaceable. I tossed and turned last night in the room that was his, dreams haunting me. I dream of him often, now part of the background in those places, close by but just out of reach. He watches me, quietly And
I feel him telling me to "Move! Snap out of it!"

I have a jumble of words stuck in my head wanting to be releaed, yet I falter, stutter and stumble over them. How often do I allow fear to stifle my joy?  I am never to old to be childlike in life, to find that inner joy and peace I so crave. I am on the road to joy starting now, it may be rough ahead, but I have faith.  

I have signed up for a journaling course online to tap into my writing again. I step slowly through the words, sprinkling pages with short ideas and thoughts. It is a start. I am sure my dad would nod in agreement, "Start where you are, one foot in front of the other and don't stop moving. "

Teresa Gale

Time to Bloom

It's that time of year, to forge ahead and bloom. I marvel at the nature around me, what was dead now reborn. The leaves now wave in the breeze, petals unfurl and pop with color. I love this season of growth in nature and in self.

We have had much rain this month and humidity high enough to frizz my hair. My body aches with arthritis and fibromyalgia, yet I still praise God every morning for a new day. My heart expands in love and acceptance at this new season of my life, I am going to embrace it.

The key words are "going to" for I have not been a happy camper about the pains of aging. I groan, complain and whine a lot. The truth in the matter, I cannot bloom if I do not open myself to this stage of my life. I wish to accept, to grow in grace.

There is not much gracefulness in my hobbling around on hips that need a good can of oil. Tin man! Where are you? However, I laugh, make jokes and smile. My favorite refrain is "I'm old you know? " in Old Testament time, biblically speaking, I am a babe.

God worked with old people in those days. Most of the people I read about were having children at my age. At ninety years young, they were ripening with age, unfurling their petals and blooming. It takes us awhile even today to mature in ways that are fruitful. I want to be fruitful, maybe even a little fruity at this stage.

So Lord, rain on me, bring it on! I am ready to ripen and to live. Anyone else with me?

Teresa Gale

Hello It's Me

It's been a long time since I have posted here. I have missed the stirring of words and speaking my heart. I am testing the waters again, breaking free from my self made prison of silence. Once again I want to not just peek through the window, but open wide the door and enter once again the land of writing. 

Teresa Gale

See you soon. 

Good Morning Daddy

Good Morning Daddy


Every morning, in the wee hours, we start.

Three AM has become my time with Dad and I normally have him all to myself. It has become a special time together and each message is treasured more than the last.


“Good Morning Dad!”


“Good Morning back to you.”




Then the early morning chatter begins. While most sane people are tucked into bed, my dad and I spend some quiet time typing words back and forth as early as 3 AM. Neither one of us sleep through the night, never have. Some mornings I sleep in and I will often have a response back.



“Good Late Morning to you, did you over sleep?”



Some mornings, especially when I know he has not felt well, I let him try and sleep before I peek into his phone.



Often we chat like this (text) for awhile; sometimes it is only a quick hello, love you and take care of yourself. But the ritual has begun and we both look eagerly forward to it.



I am not sure when it started, especially since I never was one to text much, that is until the last two years when children went off to college and another out west. I used to write about the long lost art of letter writing, phone calls and face to face. I have not surrendered mind you, I still like the old fashioned way of communication. However, I willingly succumb to the need to just hear from my loved ones and I will take whatever form I can get.



I would much rather visit my parents, but living 4 hours away and working many hours sometimes prevents my return home. When I do arrive, the whole family seems to swoop in to see us. I love them each and every one, but I truly treasure my parents and grandmother time. I often wish I could bring them up to our place so we could have that quiet time and we could take care of them.



It is not possible to do this. So I settle. I have learned to take what every tidbits of time I can have with them and this new “Texting” ritual has been a joy of discovery. A few times, my mom has been up at same time and we pass messages back and forth to each other.



Recently, I told my dad to let mom know she was my “treasure”. He returned with an answer that she called me her “Pearl”. What joy in that word, what love I felt when I read the words. I can not begin to describe it. I only wish it were all in letter form so that I could save it forever.



My parents are too far from me and with recent illnesses back home, I long to be there with them and for them. I will text often during a day when I truly am concerned. We share little bits of news, weather and love back and forth in short, choppy sentences. We laugh over the auto-correct which often distorts our words, but never our true feelings for each other.



God has blessed me with modern technology. I know, I am eating my words. I blogged about the lost art of letter writing a while back and here I am praising the technology that drove me nuts. What I have learned is whatever form of communication you can get from those you love is worth it. I still write letters, send cards and try my best to keep in touch. However, my morning time with my dad is the thrill of my day and I hope his.



Teresa Gale

Time Flies

Time sure flies! I am living proof of that fact. For example, it has been ages since I last posted here. Life is busy, computer is ill and time flies.

I was getting ready for work this morning and glanced in the mirror to put on a bit of make up so as to not shock the world and noticed I had aged. Yes, aged! I mean really, I look in that same mirror every day of the week, but at 4 a.m. this morning it was as if time came in the middle of the night and crept up on my face erasing my youth.

Or maybe I am just tired.

Or maybe, I am old.

Yes, I think it is the later. No amount of sleep and face cream can erase the fact my face has lived a pretty long life. It has weathered many storms and as I look closer, I see the lines tell a story.

My story, etched upon my face is not too bad. Through the storms it has weathered, I also see some laugh lines. I will call that line my road of joy. My life has had much joy.

When I ponder that thought, I begin to count my blessings. I have loved and been loved. I have six wonderful children and several grandchildren. I have good friends. I have my parents still with me whom I love deeply and a grandmother I adore. My husband is the best and we have a home with pets.

Yes, my lines tell a story. So I will apply my make up lightly, not to cover up, but to enhance. I will treasure these lines, those wrinkles showing the time I have walked this earth and I will embrace the next journey.

As I apply the last bit of mascara to highlight my eyes, I notice a bit of gray peeking out in my hair. Hmmm, okay, my lines can stay, but I am calling in the help to hide this gray. I am not totally ready to let it all go.

Have a blessed day.

Teresa Gale

Vacation Day 8 - Last Day

July 7th, 2012

Last Day


Temps today are supposed to reach 100 degrees once again. Mark is going to run wires for our friend’s electrical problems which means turning off the power. We are hoping for one last boat ride before we turn it in tomorrow.

I will have one more morning here in my little hideaway. It’s been good. Despite the heat, no power and water, I got my wish. My wish was time away from the entire world’s technology and relaxing. Today while Mark works around the electric problems, I am going to clean a bit, then scrapbook outdoors.

I spend the morning under the shade of the tree and periodically check to make sure Mark is okay. The heat is rising and the power is off while he makes the repairs. Sweat pours off my poor man and he is running into some problems. I work on some pages and then begin to pace, trying to help Mark while I can. The cabin is stuffy with no fans and the temperature registers 90 degrees and climbing. Mark had started in the cooler part of the day, but the one hour job has now turned into four.

The birds are oblivious to the heat and sing to me while chipmunks rustle in the leaves. The sun is hotter and sweat pools in uncomfortable places. The morning air was not too bad, but by the time Mark finishes around 12:00 I watch the thermometer climb over 90.

Finally, success! Mark ended up running separate wiring for the fridge and got things back on. I cleaned the floors, dusted and we both showered. The fans back on and moving hot air around us. I will remember this time when I head back up to Cleveland for our winter freeze.

We decide to drive to Cadiz and get some food instead of taking the boat out in the heat of the day. As we leave the cabin, the temps are now a little over 100 degrees. Once in the car, the AC goes on full blast and we can feel our muscles turn to mush.

I am sad. It hits me hard we are soon to leave and vacation will end. Tonight is our last night, in the morning we will pack, clean the cabin and drive home. We will return to the work world, the stress and things that wait for us. I am a little homesick, but dread the return. I could have spent the whole summer in our little hide away.

For some time now, I have been fighting some anxiety and a little bit of depression. Agitation over small things, things that should not matter, has made me snap at poor Mark and the kids. Our oldest daughter had moved in with us for a little over 18 months with our two grandkids. I loved having her, but we also all needed our own space. It was hard watching her move out. I was happy she would be on her own, but missing her very much. She and I would spend many an evening talking, playing games and sharing. I had watched her and Mark grow closer. However, I wanted to return to being a grandma and not a second mother. So her moving out was a bittersweet event.

Then, to top off my anxiety, our second oldest informed us her family consisting of son in law and two grandsons were packing up and heading west. My heart broke. I wanted to tell her not to leave, but could not. Part of being a parent is allowing our children to make decisions, to fly from the nest and to soar with wings like eagles without their mother hanging on for dear life. We met with the kids several time that last week, but could not bear to say goodbye. Finally, the night before they flew out, we had dinner together. I watched my daughter get irritated and restless and knew her heart was also feeling a tug. It is hard being torn in two by our decisions. We hugged hard not wanting to let go of each other. When we parted, I cried all the way home.

Two big changes in our lives happening weeks apart gave me no room to breathe let alone grieve. Then to make things even harder, our baby was going to graduate. While all of this will be part of my next blog, I have to let my heart ache a little as I write. Wham! Wham! And Slam!

I took most of this out on my poor hubby. He is very patient and surely a gift from God. I love him very much and getting away I tried hard to relax, reflect and pray. God surely was present this past week and our trials were many and tough. I think God with his sense of humor thought it might lighten my mood to be subjected to the heat, no power and primitive conditions. What I had not counted on was that it truly did. I enjoyed this time of healing.

The drive to Cadiz was sunny and the AC blasted the coolest air ever this last day. I felt wonderful in the cool comfort of the car. We stopped at a fast food joint, loaded up on not to good food and tried our phones out. The internet was slow, so I gave up quickly, but called our son to make sure the house was still standing.

We left the air conditioned restaurant and headed back out into the hot furnace with no where particular in mind. We drove aimlessly for awhile, snapping photos here and there, dropping mail off at the post office and ending up at the grocery for one last meal before we left. Neither of us liked the thought of cooking and were both feeling unmotivated, but we finally settled on a pack of hot sausage. I must tell you, I am not big on sausage, was only half hearted in the purchase, but unable to stomach much of anything.

As we head back to the cabin, to the heat, thoughts of boating far from our minds we settle into a silent ride. We stop here and there to snap photos of a huge downed tree from the storm and an old cemetery.

Once back to the cabin, we turn music on and focus the fans blowing hot air on us while sitting at the picnic table. We plan our morning out and survey the cabin as we moan over the chore of cleaning and packing that lie ahead. All of a sudden, the fan stops dead, radio goes silent and Mark and I stare in horror at each other. No breeze, no sound but the party next door and across the lake.

The fan shudders, starts and stops again! Mark and I wait, look at each other and moan. We try to figure out if it is everyone or just us. Could it be the electrical work he did in the morning, something gone wrong? Since it is still day light, we cannot tell if others are out as well. Music bounces off the lake loudly as boater blare the radio. A party across the way with chatter and laughter makes us wonder if we are not the only ones.

The deck thermometer rises higher still, over 100 and sweat is pouring over us in the still air. Heat index is several degrees higher than what we can see on the dial and the ice is melting fast.

On-off-on-off, the fans hum, and then stop. We start dinner and wait. Mark tells me he has had enough. We will either pack up tonight and go home, or stay in a hotel and return in the morning to clean. I do not like the idea and feel sad. This was to be our last night; our time alone and now I feel angry it may end too soon. I know that sounds silly in sight of the heat, but I wanted every second before I returned home to an empty house.

My sweet husband is encouraged by the sad look on my face to drive up the hill to investigate. I pray. I pray more. “Listen God, this has been a good bad vacation. Good for me, but hard on Mark. Can you do us a favor please, and turn the power back on?”

I run some water in the sink while we still have some in the pump, go to the bathroom. I continue praying. God is good; let me tell you, GOD IS GOOD! Suddenly, mid-prayer, lights flicker, music starts up and the glorious sound of fans. I praise God; say a word of thanks just as Mark arrives back. It seems there was some repairs being done up the road and the power went down while the men worked. I sigh deeply, our last night not ruined.

My husband makes the best dinner of our vacation. It’s funny how humble one gets with the little things in life, the simple things. God works in mysterious ways. He provided us a last night of power, a wonderful meal of meager potatoes, peppers and the hot sausage (which I might add is now my new favorite) and blessed us with safety. Life is good. I will cherish the lessons he taught me this week, one big important one is to turn to him more often. James 4:2 “You do not have because you have not asked.” The scripture is so true.

Trusting in God is something I strive more for these days. I shall rely on him to sustain me during the storms, the grief of an empty nest and the anxiety I have been having.

We are full and satisfied, not just from the dinner either, but from God who is taking care of us. We settle down in our sleeping spots, televisions on, fans positioned and comfort of being together one last night in our cabin hide away.

I would like to say, I slept good, but I had a restless night with thoughts of packing dancing in my head. Darkness envelopes us like a blanket thrown over us, finally my lids grow heavy, flutter, and close and dreams drift in like a heavy fog.

Good night – Sleep tight- Good night.

Blessings,



Teresa Gale

Vacation Day 7

July 5, 2012


“Bless the Lord, O my soul; and all that is within me, bless His holy name! Bless the Lord, O my soul and forget not all His benefits; Who forgives all your iniquities. Who heals all your diseases.

Who redeems your life from destruction, who crowns you with loving-kindness and tender mercies. Who satisfies your mouth with good things, so that your youth is renewed like the eagles.”

Psalms 103:1-5

Vacations can be a time to renew, refresh, recharge and rest our bodies, our minds and our souls. This vacation has surely been different in many ways. I know God moves in mysterious ways, but he woke me up with the realization of the blessings in my life, the things we take for granted.

Far too long I took the things of this world for granted. A mere flip of a switch for electric to light a room, turn on a fan and keep food either hot or cold. We don’t realize this until we lose it; we drown ourselves in the world of technology and seldom see or hear the beauty that surrounds us. I am for one so guilty of this. I busy myself with TV and do not enjoy it, I play on my games on my phone when I could be reading, and I turn on sound to drown out thoughts. Those things are just on the top of my head.

However, God knows what we need even if it makes us uncomfortable. He wakes us up to the blessings he supplies and I never give thanks far often enough. Please forgive me O’ Lord.

We slept like babies last night with the fans cooling us off, I even found myself reaching for a sheet to cover myself as the cooler air hit. Sigh…..heaven.

In the early hours we rise, thankful the electric is still on and the fans cover the noise of the critters outside last night. Dan, Mike and the Dogs are going to head home. I try to encourage them to stay now that we have power, but Dan has had enough of “roughing” it and longs to be close to home, friends and back to work. I watch silently as they pack, sad to see them leave. Dan wishes to leave by 7:30 A.M. as another storm is brewing. I pray for safety as I hear it is hovering over Cleveland and he will be driving through it.

Hugs, kisses, promises to call, pats on hairy back of our dogs and waves as we watch them hit the road. I, being the worry wart mother I am, will not rest till I know he is safe at home.

Mark’s shoulders hurt, and my legs gave me fits last night despite the fans or because of them. I am moving slower due to the ach in my legs. All is quiet, too quiet without the boys. I miss my son. Mark is busy doing his man things around the cottage. To the beat of hammer drumming as Mark repairs a step and builds a new plank to reach the boat, I busy myself with dishes, straighten the cabin and set out to dive deep into God’s word.

I am truly loving my time with the Lord in these early hours each day and wish I could or would take my bible outdoors more often when we return home. However, I know I have my own spot downstairs and change can be tough sometimes. So I will enjoy this time now.

Sunlight breaks through the trees warming my skin, the hum of hammer and fans drowns out the nature sounds I have come to love. The lake is quiet today, no sounds of boats.

We have not yet decided on our day alone. I hear that small still voice of God who tells me not to worry, to be still and refresh in Him. I sigh deeply, breathing in the scents around me while closing my eyes and putting my head back to rest a moment. How wonderful to rest in God. I sit quietly, meditating and praising. When I open my eyes, I see the red bird fly over my head rustling the leaves in the trees ever so slightly. How lovely.

Dan calls to let us know a few hours later he is safe at home and the dogs do not want to leave the cool air conditioner. They are sleeping and being lazy dogs enjoying the freezer like home. We laugh, tell him to enjoy the house alone and sigh with relief he is okay.

Once my worry stops, I can relax. I open a bottle of wine and for the first “real” time all week, I actually can enjoy some alone time with my husband. We talk and plan our day, enjoying the fact we have power. After some alone time and a shower, a couple of showers just because we can and the water cools us we decide to boat over to the Marina and have a bite to eat. The lake is still, the water hardly ripples as there is no breeze to move it. We only see a scarce boat or two here and there today.

We enter the Marina and order a cheeseburger and I got some so-so tasting Chicken tenders. I remember the days when the marina used to be full of campers and noise. It seems kind of sad to come and no one is around. We eat our meal and ride back to the cabin. I feel a little shaky, not sure if it is the sun or the glass of wine. I lie quietly on the front seat allowing the sun to beat down and the water to lull me into a light sleep.

The heat rises and the climb top side wears me out. I collapse in front of three fans and fall heavily to sleep. I do not want to move, the sleep feels good and the fans drown out all else. I allow myself sweet dreams and feel as if I am floating on the water, drifting to and fro. Today is a lazy day for me. I cannot seem to get motivated, the heat must have affected me more than I thought and now that power and water are restored, I feel God telling me to continue to rest. We all need this from time to time and so infrequently do we actually allow it. I tend to feel guilty when I have lazy days, but today I listen to my body and give in to the weariness.

I will not have days like this once we return and that time is coming far too soon. I enjoy this place, our little slice of paradise. I know when we tell our stories back home people will think I am crazy to have enjoyed it so much, but I truly did. Yet my mind needed this break from Televisions, phones, computers and the outside world. We work hard and this break is what God ordered. This is the most relaxed I have felt in quite some time.

I am not sure what all God wanted to accomplish with me, but he cleared my mind, my stress. Being at the lake has been good medicine. I constantly feel God surrounding me and telling me to “Trust me.” “Be still” and “Let go and let me in.” I need him in my life and often try to do things on my own. He however reminds me I am nothing without him.

We both nap once again and decide upon waking to head to the little town of Freeport in search of dinner. The Marathon station doesn’t have much to offer and hamburgers again do not appeal to either of us. We have no ambition to cook. We end up buying a sub sandwich to split and Mark makes a cucumber salad and grilled veggies.

Our laziness continues, we want to soak up the fans and modern technology we have missed. We fix our meager but filling dinner, make small talk and settle in for the quiet night of “The Big Bang Theory.”

Mark dozes off early while I keep imagining noises outside. I miss the boys and feel lonely and maybe a little homesick. I bounce from not wanting to leave the “Tree House” and returning home. I catch the ten o’clock news and sleep fitfully as I listen to Mark’s loud snores, the static of TV, fans and my imagined creatures in the woods. The dark forest outside makes for a scary night when you are up alone and this night seems extra long for me.

Finally, sleep rescues me from the thoughts of monsters and big brown bears in the woods and I drift off to sleep.

Good night All, Sleep tight.

Teresa Gale

Day Six of Vacation: Believe

Believe

Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.

Hebrews 11:1

July 4th, 2012

Day six of vacation and still no power yet. It is hot, it is beyond hot. The humid air hovers around us making everything sticky and unbearable. We slept restlessly last night with a little help from our neighborhood raccoons. It seems Rocky has friends and he invited them to an all night party at our cabin. We city folks are slow to learn, but we have improved. We brought the dog food in last night, burned the trash and bundled up leftovers. So Rocky was a little upset his midnight snack was not left out, as a result he and his friends made a racket that had the dogs howling.

I drug myself up off the lumpy couch with flashlight in hand and tried shining it on the black eyed friend. He didn’t even flinch but sat making raccoon noises and staring back at me. I guess he thought I would serve him like a fast food joint. Eventually, he grew tired and ran off into the dark night. Finally, I slipped back onto the couch and tossed around for a few more hours drifting in and out of sleep.

The critters seem to grace us all around. Early this morning I had the pleasure of watching a Redbird or Cardinal, my Grandma Goldie’s favorite bird floats above in the trees. I had to smile at this redheaded feathered friend. Shortly afterwards a tiny hummingbird came to check out the empty feeder. It is moments like this in the still of the woods that fills me with blessings and erases my discomfort. God sends us signals constantly but in my fast paced world, I rarely pause long enough to notice. This trip, it is as if God is shouting at me to be still!

So today, I will enjoy each moment, wipe the sticky sweat off and allow God to bless me. The sounds of birdsong are music that needs no electric and I am enjoying the melody, God’s songs.


“Sing your own song in your own special way.”

 Each day I continue my bible study daily and find God awakening me with lessons. It is as if he is whispering…”Remember this time, do not forget.”

Dan called the Marina to check if they might have power yet so we can gas up the boat. I can tell he is growing restless and the heat is agitating him. His frustration that we do not take the boat further out is hard on him. He hangs up the phone and disappointment is all over his face. Despite all this, Michael our great fisherman is content, calm and enjoying nature. He walks around the grounds in search of snakes, fish and today found a treasure of an empty turtle shell.

Mark and I decide to head to Marina any way to ask for a solution to our expensive boat we cannot go far in due to power failure. Parking the car we see light on inside!!!! Joy, Joy, Joy! They rented a generator and we can buy gas, supplies, ice and go boating. I am overjoyed Dan is less so.

We move slowly as the heat takes a toll on all. The men finally head to gas up and I stay back with the dogs packing up sandwiches and treats. The waiting tires me and I decide to start taking the supplies down to the boat, the dogs are way ahead of me and before I can leash them off they scoot down the “Heart Attack Hill”. I worry they will wander off and I won’t find them. Slowly I edge down the steep hill and find them standing on the dock wagging tails all excited. Both dogs are loving the boating and fresh air.

I stack the supplies and quickly wade into the water to cool off. Both dogs watch me and I pull them in to swim with me. They are both skittish, but I think they secretly enjoy the water. I luxuriate in the cool waters, bathing myself in its silky essence and thank God.

Boat Time and The Rock

The fish are scarce today, Dan catches the only one. Mike snagged a big one that broke his line and his heart. I sunbathe, burn is more like it and we head to find our “rock”.

The rock is a favorite find of ours over the years and one year we could not find the spot and went home disappointed. In my younger days I would hike up the steep bank and walk around the rock which is huge. Today, I watch from the shore as the men head up the hill and survey the rock. I swim, shoot some photos and decide it is a good place to take a bath. My eyes scour the surroundings and enjoy the view of the large hunk of rock we so love to visit as I dip precariously in the cool water. To my surprise, Mark joins me and we soap up, shampoo and I watch as he swims awhile. Mark is not one who likes to swim and I am happy to watch him cool off as he has taken the heat pretty bad.

Floating in the cool water we watch other boaters and dogs nearby do the same. It is an enjoyable time. The boys try hard to snag a fish which are not at all cooperating today. The water offers us refreshment and I am thankful for it today.

We snack on sandwiches on the boat. Sammy gets pretty hyper after he spots some low flying Geese and we have to calm him down. It is such a beautiful day in spite of the heat.

Back to the cabin, heat index reads over 100 degrees, still no electric. Each time we go out, we have high hopes the power will return by the time we reach the cabin, each time we are disappointed. We settle in, unpacking, changing clothes and talk about what to cook for dinner.

A loud rumble of engine alerts us we have company. Chesney from down the road rides up on a four wheeler to let us know power is on its way. About the time the words are out of his mouth, we see the first truck head up the end of the road to the sound of our cheers. Chesney states we might have it back in less than half an hour. We are so excited and thank Chesney for the news.

Of course a half an hour passes and not a flicker of a fan blows, then another half hour and still nothing. It is the Fourth of July and we want to celebrate. Mike decides to nap in the hot bunk house, Mark and Dan decide to cool off in car and make another ice run. I wait.

I hear another storm on the horizon, thunder rolls in the not so far distance and the clouds turn gray. I watch and grow hotter. Thoughts of the cool waters below call to me. I wrestle with the thoughts of heading down and the agony of hiking back up the hill. Finally, with sweat trickling over my brow I make an executive decision and grab a cane and start down the hill. The dark skies east of us bellow thunder. Two quick dips under the refreshing waters cools me.

A Blue Gill nips at me, not a hurtful nip, but enough to make me jump. I swim further out away from the dock and keep watch on the threat of storm clouds coming closer. A spark of light in the sky has me cautious and after one last dip below the water, I reluctantly step out.

Climbing the hill wearing a bright orange bath scarf alerts bees to chase me. I cannot win between nibbles of fish and threat of flies, stings I climb faster. A slow incline is not in the cards right now as the bees swarm my head and horse flies dive bomb around me. Breathless, I reach the top now shaky from burning muscles on this old gal. My effort to cool off now has been a waste as the run up the hill has me overly hot again. Drats! Nature sure has a way of making me humble.

The guys return and still no power. We are disheartened to say the least. We are surviving and have enjoyed this vacation, but a little electric would be so wonderful right about now.

Finally, on the Fourth of July a flicker of power turns on the light in the cabin and we rush to our feet to turn lights on and arrange fans. We now declare this an official celebration as our declaration. Dependent on each other these last six days has made us a team, but the electricity is sure a blessing.

We laugh, clap our hands and hoot with Joy! Dan’s face lights up with happiness and Mark arranges a fan on the deck and we sit and enjoy this luxury. Six days of primitive living, we survived. God has blessed us for our half hearted patience and I give thanks to him for pulling us through it all.

Daniel was great during the trip, he often jumped in and out of the boat to cook, clean, guide and even rescue some stranded 4-H gals. He carried things up the hills and was just such a blessing to us on this vacation. I so enjoyed our time together, however, he is done and ready to travel back to civilization. He offers to take the dogs back and he and Mike will head home tomorrow. I am sad, but know it is time. Mark and I will have a day or two alone.

Dan makes us a nice dinner again. Hamburgers, hot dogs, beans and wieners and wonderful fried potatoes, food of campers are the menu tonight. We enjoy each and every morsel

Fans run hot air over us, dinner done and dishes cleaned, we settle in front of TV’s , radio and anything the electric will allow for and we missed. I am happy to have a light to read by tonight. I read and study my bible, remembering to give thanks for this time alone with my men. The boys settle into the bunk house one last night relieved a fan will cool them off for sleep. The dogs have trouble cooling down and circle from one fan to another before they finally settle down for a long summer night nap.

God pours his spirit upon me reminding me to refresh myself often, recharge my spirit and remember this time. This has been more than a vacation for me, but a spiritual retreat.

“He makes me to lie down in green pastures; He leads me beside the still waters. He restores my soul; He leads me in the paths of  righteousness for His name’s sake.” Psalms 23:2-3

Teresa Gale

Vacation Day 5

And the Heat Goes On!

July 3, 2012


Every morning I wake up expecting a return to power and find instead darkness. I had another restless night, the heat climbs. I can smell Mark making the coffee, nectar for my veins. It’s a painstaking task, but I love the man for doing it. Stumbling into the semi dark bathroom wishing I could turn on water to brush my teeth, I improvise with a bottle of water to rinse.

It’s really not bad. I have memories of Grandma Goldie and Grandpa Ray taking us down to a camp they rented for the summer in Southern Ohio. The small cottage lay close to the Ohio River and we spent two wonderful weeks there. We lit the cottage with kerosene lamps, pumped water from the well and trudged warily to the Outhouse. We “roughed” it and loved it all, a childhood adventure. I am looking on this adventure as a challenge to treasure. What stories we will tell when we get home!

I think the thing we miss most is showering and flushing. Such a disgusting topic, but bathroom habits are a normal problem without running water. Mark, my marvelous and very inventive husband has solved my bathroom issues by pulling water from the sump pump overflow. The boys, well, have roughed it quite comically. The outdoors is after all, where our native ancestors and true to life campers have found ways to eliminate. Dan says the trick is to make sure the ground is sloping the right way. I leave all with that thought.

Mark and I sip our coffee and sit quietly in the midst of birdsong. What a delightful sound early in the morning. Wouldn’t it be wonderful if we could all wake up as cheerful as our feathered friends lifting sounds of praise high above? The lilting sound makes me smile as I search the trees for my serenading birds.

We decide to head to Freeport and pick up some Ice, juice and bait. Water supply is running low, so we need to store up on this precious commodity. Half-way back to camp, we find we forgot the bait. Go figure. So, trip 2 will be the guys venture while I pack up items for the boat. Dan and Mark return to Freeport for the bait and bring back words that today (maybe) we will have power. We can only hope and Pray.

“In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth…God saw all that He made, and behold, it was very good…” Genesis 1:1, 31

I decide to let the men go fishing alone as I set out to clean the kitchen and work on scrapbooking. My skin is a little sunburned from yesterday’s boating, so going to take it easy and try not to bake anymore. I enjoy the surroundings and am content in the beauty of the woods. I love sitting on the “tree house” deck and create. It has been a good time all in all for me. I find no stress here, only my creative juices flowing.

One of my best friends, Jackie, bought me a beautiful journal that I am journaling our adventure in. I enjoy clipping photos and glue them inside the pages. I use stickers and sketch trees; it has become more than a journal, but a moving scrapbook. I do not know why I have never done one this way before. I enjoy jotting down words about our trip and then highlighting the pages in colors, quotes and photos of past times here. I am creating memories with our family and documenting our history here. I hope to continue journaling this way onward.

The sun beats down on me and I am aching for a swim and bath. The lake shimmering through the trees invites me down and I gather my items for a refreshing bath in the lake. The water is cool against my skin at first and then warms quickly. I view the lake, the trees and the sky and marvel at how peaceful it is here. Oh how I wish to bring this home with me, this feeling of relaxation and happiness. The soap lathers well in the water and I rinse off and swim a few laps back and forth stretching my muscles and cooling my skin. I so love the feel of water.

My eyes move from my cool spot in the water to the climb up the hill, not looking forward to that at all. Hunger forces me out of the water and my slow trek through the forest. I make a quick sandwich and a cold glass of pop with ice from the cooler and return to the deck noticing the outdoor thermometer registering mid eighties.

The guys return from fishing and tell me all about the catches they made, a fish fry is sure to come this trip. The guys grab some food and decide to rest before we make yet another trip into Freeport. The air is a little cooler from yesterday’s threat of a storm, but still the air does not stir. I am beginning to think my too hot husband is inventing trips into town on the pretense of forgetting items so he can cool off in the air conditioning of the car.

As we return, we pass by neighbor Ted, our camp Ambassador who informs us of some very unhappy news. It seems the campgrounds down the road which holds the key to our power was never reported out. I am in shock! No one has had power anywhere near us, how could the power company miss this? Don’t they have some sort of grids or something they watch? I mean the storm hit three counties and we are on day four without power. Feeling a bit dejected we drive on.

So now, like the Israelites wandering in the heat of the desert-we wait. I recall the story in the bible about the Israelites who wandered for forty years in a hot desert. Having been in Israel and seeing how small this country is, the story amazes me. God, are You there? Are you teaching us or testing?

We need a treat, Fish Fry tonight.

Teresa Gale

Vacation 2012 Day Four

July 2, 2012

Powerless in Stifling Heat Wave

Another hot night left me tossing and turning. The nights’ here seem to drag on forever or is it just due to the super dark forest that surrounds us? The boys stay on the dock till late at night and then with flashlights climb “Heart Attack Hill”, oh to be young again! I often wake when I hear them come up, flashlights glowing on the deck and causing havoc with our dogs that sense more than just the boys in the woods. Last night the dogs woke me to bark, growl and run around my bed. It seems a critter or a few critters thought it funny we novice campers would leave trash for them. So they rummaged through the trash while our dogs were itching to attack them.

The thrashing on the deck sounded pretty loud and Mark rose to shut the glass door. We have no idea if it is small or large, but we do not want to invite the creature inside. Of course, closing the door made our cabin hotter and created more tossing and turning for me all night.

The next morning, yes, still without electric, we rose to find teeth marked paper plates and trash strew all over deck and on the ground. The boys shared they thought it was big, maybe a bear, but I think it was most likely a raccoon who are famously known for trash hunts. Time for coffee making and clean up before we head to the boat.

Yesterday we boated only once trying to conserve the gas, word has it may be several days before we see power restored. This storm hit hard and knocked out several counties. Yesterday, we had a threat of a storm which drove the boys off the dock around nine o’clock. Trees rustled with a strong breeze which had me cautiously eyeing the sky. The good thing, it never hit and it brought cooler temperatures for several hours.

Mark started the coffee while I straighten up our make shift beds, wash a few dishes and gather my bible and journal to sit on deck. While I read, Mark goes down under the deck to begin the critter clean up. As he exists the door, I hear him moan. Cobwebs like the one pictured on my page seem to materialize every night and no matter how often we knock them down, happy spiders rebuild quickly at night. Mark gets tangled every morning in the clingy webs.

Day Four of our primitive adventure is starting a little cooler. Mark had a bad health day yesterday and the heat really took its toll on him. I convinced him to keep a washcloth in the cooler of ice and apply to his face to cool off. For me, swimming works and I try to dip in the waters a few times a day, but Mark is reluctant to travel the hill with his joints hurting. He loaded up with water most of the afternoon, in this heat we are all dehydrating and keeping water on ice.

After clean up and coffee, we need to do an ice run. We buy food as we need it so it won’t go bad as the ice melts too quickly. My back hurts from the couch sleeping, but with the cooler temperatures slept a tad better than the previous couple of nights.

I keep my time occupied with reading and scrapbooking. I almost did not bring my stuff as I felt I might just be wasting the space, but so glad I did. Each day I spread out on the picnic table and work on a few pages. It helps pass the time and feeds the creative side of me. So far I think I have finished about seven pages in the last couple of days, I am even scraping in my journal. I find I like doing that. I find I am getting more creative things done here, except for writing. The only writing I am doing in my journal which details our trip and the cards and letters I send the kids. We will make a trip to town soon and I can mail them. I have no real distractions here and am getting more “me” time.

If only I could create time once home to continue with my creative side. This time with no power has stirred something inside me. I found we have many more resources when we really pay attention. We have learned to survive despite the irritation we have invented ways to make ourselves more comfortable and stuck it out for four days. This time of quiet without distractions is really what I have craved for a long time. So today, I give thanks to God for showing us what we are made of. Sometimes we are forced to become stronger and allow our creative sides to emerge.

Later, we decide to venture out to Cadiz which lies 13 miles away. Why does such a short distance stretch on forever when we travel on country roads? We do get to see the AE Power linemen at work, more trees down, fences pushed down from the thrust of the storm. Finally! Civilization!

You know you are in civilization when the golden arches of a McDonalds come into sight. Phone service! Limited for sure, but at least we can receive and send a few texts to family to let them know we are safe. We pull into the comfort of the golden arches and grab some late breakfast. Yes, fast food can really taste good after a few days without.

The town folk seem curious over us and a table set with several “elderly” gentlemen make small talk with us. Mark asks directions and we all discuss the storm. Dan states he thinks these same men were here last year and gave us directions. This place must be a social gathering for some folks.

We eat, check phones, use the running water facility and head out for our main excitement, The Dollar General Store. It seems funny that when you are from a bigger city and thrust into small town living how exciting an outing like this can really perk you up quickly. We all roamed the aisles looking for things we may need, a new ice chest as two didn’t hold all we needed, plastic bowls to put meat into, and other needed supplies. Seventy-two dollars later we left the store satisfied with our bargains. We took a quick tour of the town to find the grocery store and post office.

I am spending days not just scrapbooking and journaling but also to write the old fashioned cards and letters that I single handedly brought back to life a year or two ago. The post office was close the grocer and we quickly ran inside as the heat again was climbing into the upper nineties.

The grocery store is ok. Meat looks a little “iffy” to say the least. Another seventy dollars later for fruit, meat, drinks and veggies, finishes off our food needs. Our next stop is the hardware store to replace the basket we lost for fishing. Cha Ching! Our trip to civilization was an expensive venture for sure.

Now we head back to the cabin and our fishing time.

The rest of the day is spent fishing, boating, bathing and swimming. I catch another Blue Gill and enjoy the refreshing waters to cool off. However, when I bring out the shampoo and soap back at the dock, my little Blue Gills family start nipping at my legs while I try and bathe. Ouch! It does not hurt as much as surprise me and I jump each time one nibbles at me.

Dinner tonight is London broil, Fried potatoes and vegetables that Daniel Son cooks. The dinner was wonderful. Dan did a great job. The night heat is uncomfortable and even my dip in the lake is not enough to keep my skin from boiling. After dinner, dishes and clean up, I grab a cool rag from the ice chest and lie as motionless as I can with the rag on my head. It’s only 9:00 pm and I am miserable from the heat with no break in sight.

This is going to be a long, hot night and I am not looking forward to it. Up until now, I have weathered the heat pretty good, but tonight is my turn to pray for a rescue and a cool fan. Lying for several hours barely moving, I finally doze off as the air shifts and degree or two downward. The dog rouse me from sleep once again as “Rocky” raccoon visits us again. It’s 3 am according to my cell phone and I moan with aggravation. Heat, dogs, critters have kept me awake for several nights.

Grabbing a flashlight I pull myself off of the sagging couch better known as my bed and shine it out on the deck. Oliver our little fierce Yorkie, growls meanly while I scan the light around looking for our night critter. Sure enough, to my right, sitting next to the dog food we forgot again the bring in the cabin two beady eyes stare back and chop away unworried about me. I watch him for a moment and decide he or she is not worth my effort to scare him off and get bit. I crawl over the dogs shushing them and fall back onto the couch. Oliver gives one final forceful bark and growl before curling up by my legs miffed he was not allowed to get the critter. I almost believe our little Ollie could take the raccoon!

I struggle back asleep remembering the words for the local gossip line our favorite Ambassador Ted, that the electric company is edging closer to us and we should have power soon. Day four closes with those thoughts stirring me back to sleep.

We stink! Is my last thought as I drift into dreams of the hum of air conditioning and coolness.

Teresa Gale