Tuesday, June 29, 2010
Saturday, June 26, 2010
Thursday, June 24, 2010
Monday, June 21, 2010
Sunday, June 20, 2010
Monday, June 14, 2010
Sunday, June 13, 2010
..... I got out of our van to ask if it was over, since they were allowed to get their things.
“Not exactly…” One of them replied. “The fourth floor is completely filled with smoke and the air is unbreatheable.” (I did not think to ask him how he knew this.)
“You mean there really is a fire!?” I responded.
The young man nodded. “Yep. Apparently a waste basket caught fire…”
“So some idiot threw away a cigarette they thought they put out correctly, and hadn’t?” I said.
“Exactly.” (Again, I did not think to ask how the young men new any of this.)
They drove away, and we climbed in our van and waited another half hour or so before we were let in. Yes. We were all able to return to our rooms. Whether we could sleep was another story. God was looking out for all of us, though. Only two rooms were unusable, and those were on the fourth floor. The hotel desk clerk was making arrangements for the couples who occupied to sleep in other rooms while I waited behind them to ask her for some Ibuprofen. So no one was injured during the fire. (I do feel bad for them that they most likely lost some property, but considering this was a HOTEL FIRE, everyone getting out safely and only two rooms being ultimately affected are blessings.)
I’m sure you never saw a friendlier bunch of strangers eating in the breakfast room of a hotel. Few people were able to go back to sleep, and we were all early for our continental breakfast at 7 am. We discussed whether the fire was set on purpose (I insisted that everyone makes stupid mistakes at one time or another, and that this was someone’s stupid mistake. So yes, the culprit lives, and I am typing this from the comfort of my own swivel chair at home.)
We all discussed religion and politics like old friends, good naturedly giving each other permission to be wrong. We had been through a fire together. Even though most of us didn't need to deal with the actual fire and smoke, we shared in the evacuation, and the shock of finding out it was all real. While we won’t be holding any reunions, we were bound together in happiness and gratitude that every person who had been in the building was accounted for and fine. We didn’t exactly hold hands and sing “Kumbaya”, but we shared an intangible bond that I’d never shared with anyone I just met on the spot in my life. And I forgave Bob for spending and extra thirty bucks to reserve a room on the nonsmoking floor, which was directly below the floor where the garbage can caught fire.
And, just when you thought I'd milked this fire for all it was worth....
All of us have been through "fire", but not necessarily of the literal kind. When my mom died, I was going through a metaphorical fire of sorts, but had the camaraderie of cyber friends and Church friends, and most importantly, their prayers, to help me through. These people CHOSE to walk through the fire and smoke with me, and I thank them.
My gratitude for these individuals got me to thinking how I wish others who hurt had the same support available to them. I know most of my Church friends through being involved in my Church with CCD, Respect Life, ICF, etc. But what about people who aren't involved? What about people who just need prayer, and someone to walk through the fire with them? I and couple of friends decided that we need a women's prayer ministry to meet this need. (We are starting with women only right now because frankly, those of us starting this are women, and feel we can better minister to women than to both at this time. How this grows and whether it does depends on the Holy Spirit.)
Tomorrow is the first day for this prayer meeting. Actually, it is a prayer meeting / organizational meeting. I'd really appreciate your prayers for the start of this ministry.
Thank you for walking through the fire with me, and encouraging me and giving me the strength to want to reach out and do the same for others. God bless you.
Saturday, June 12, 2010
Thursday, June 10, 2010
When we left on Monday, I was yelling at Bob to unplug his Cpap machine because I believed that was what was making all the racket. I was wrong. His machine had already been unplugged.
He gets up and checks the sitting room (I don’t know why) while I put on my shoes (I have difficulty walking without my orthotics) and grab my eyeglasses from the nightstand. I know the precious seconds I spend doing that actually save me time I’d waste fumbling around if I didn’t. Bob puts his pants on and grabs his shirt.
By now we have figured out that it is the fire alarm going off. You’d think I’d be a little scared, but instead I was annoyed. I was a teacher for 13 years. My first thought was “Why in the world is the fire department conducting a fire drill in a hotel? Is this town nuts? “ It occurs to me while I tie my shoes that it’s probably just me who is nuts. Obviously it’s not a fire drill. Some kid pulled the fire alarm. Oh well. I always taught my students that each fire drill is to be treated as if it was a real fire so that we know what to do if it is ever necessary. I remember reading in a hotel room once that if the fire alarm goes off, I should feel the door to make sure it isn’t hot. I forgot what I was supposed to do if it was, but decided I could read the door containing fire instructions if the door felt hot. Better to waste a couple minutes than to panic and do the wrong thing. My husband, God bless him, did not even ask why I was feeling the door. (It turns out that one should NOT open the door if it is hot, because there is a fire in the hall.) After being married to me for almost fourteen years, he has learned to just deal with the oddness that is I, and I have done the same for him.
The door was not hot, so I did not bother reading any directions, I just opened the door and walked out into the hallway. Standing in front of the elevator was an elderly couple arguing. He wanted to take the elevator, and she wanted to take the stairs. I stopped being a teacher a few years ago, but that bossing people around habit in me never died. I pointed out the sign on the elevator stating that in case of fire one must take the stairs, and suggested that following directions when the fire alarm was blaring was the safest bet. This couple was sprier than me, and beat me to the stairs; I’m shamed to say.
Another elderly woman in the hall asked me if I thought we were in any danger. I said that the only person in danger is the kid who must’ve pulled the alarm, because I was going to gut him like a pig and have a wienie roast in the parking lot. She asked if I really thought it was a prank. I said it doesn’t matter, the fire department will demand that we leave once they arrive, so we may as well move at our own pace now.
Bob is a sweet husband who tried to wait for me along the stairs, even though I kept yelling at him as if he was one of my second graders “GO! GO! GO!” It did occur to me somewhere between the elevator and the stairs that there was a possibility this could be the real thing.
Since Bob had his pants on, he had the keys to the van, so we climbed in it to wait out the ruckus. Several minutes later we see two young men leaving the building with their packed things and entering their van. I got out of our van to ask if it was over, since they were allowed to get their things....
I am going to end the post here for now. Why? Because the rest of this post is about 400 words long. You do know now that I got out alive. The question remains: did I have to gut some teenager in the parking lot and serve him on buns with relish for pulling a fire alarm and waking me up at 4 am? Am I posting from prison? How is Governor Ryan anyway? The conclusion to this story will appear on Sunday. I KNOW! SUNDAY! I never blog on Sunday... I think I can make an exception just this once.
'Cause before you know it your precious time slips away
Live every moment, love every day
'Cause if you don't you might just throw your love away
You don't have to go oh oh oh oh oh
Oh baby, ba-bee bee please please please
ah ah ah ah ah baby ah ah I really love you baby
oo oo oo oo oo darlin' oooohhhh oh
Oh baby I still love you so,
Oh baby I still love you so ohohoh, ooo, oh oh oh oh oh yeah
We danced in a world of blue how can my heart forget. Blue were the skies and blue were your eyes just like the blue skirt you wore.
Where do I start? My grandmother's favorite song... the first song my parents danced to..Mom had blue eyes,,
We thought they'd never end
We'd sing and dance forever and a day
We'd live the life we choose
We'd fight and never lose
For we were young and sure to have our way.
More lyrics: http://www.lyricsmode.com/lyrics/m/mary_hopkin/#share
Wednesday, June 9, 2010
Tuesday, June 8, 2010
Monday, June 7, 2010
I had a great time at Pirate Fest over the weekend, even though Murphy’s Law (no relation to Sherri, I’m sure) prevailed. First of all, Bob’s digital camera wouldn’t work. It claimed memory was full, even though he had downloaded the old pics. He thinks he may need a new memory card. We bought a couple of disposable cameras, and I will publish some pictures on my blog in the future.
Then we realized we left the sunscreen in the car. We parked really far away, and figured it was cloudy and rainy enough to not get burned. Guess what. We got a couple of hours of sunshine, just enough to cause my arms and face to burn enough for me to feel it.
The fireworks started late because it was raining, which meant we got to the hotel very late, very tired, and very sore. We had reserved a nonsmoking room (extra charge, but I’m grateful we spent the money) on the third floor with a king size bed. I have no idea how we ended up with a room with two twin beds, but Bob and I both agreed that it was only one night, and we’d just deal with it.
So then I open my bag to get out my muumuu, and find that I must have accidentally taken it out when I removed my bathing suit because I realized I wouldn’t have any time for the pool, so taking the suit would be a waste of space. But since I had fresh clothes packed to wear the next day, I decided there was no harm in going to sleep in the clothes I had been wearing all day. I decided it was a blessing in disguise, as I was too tired and sore to undress anyways.
I asked Bob to hand me my medicine. Silly me. I thought that since I handed him the bottle and told him to pack it with his meds, he’d have it. He had no recollection of said conversation and thus, he did not have my meds. To his credit, he offered to drive the two hours each way to go get it. I said that it made more sense for me to just take it late than for him to drive four hours.
Then Bob plugs in his CPap machine. Beep….Beep….Beep…. Apparently the memory card was full. He removed the memory card, and at about 11:30, I had a quiet room to try and sleep in. Too bad I was sore and did not have Aleve with me. Turning to try to get comfortable was excruciating.
Several hours later, at four in the morning to be exact, BEEP..BEEP...BEEP… is filling the room. It is the loudest sound I ever heard in my life. I call out “WHUUU?” because I am too tired to pronounce the “t” at the end of the word “what”. My husband starts checking the CPap machine.
After about 20 seconds I scream “UNPLUG IT ALREADY! WE’RE WAKING UP THE WHOLE FLOOR!”
My husband calls out “IT IS UNPLUGGED!”
Did I forget to mention that today's post is only Part 1 of my nightie story? Ooops! Click above to see Wendy's blog carnival Life is Funny. Consider joining the fun and write your own LIF post! C'mon! What if I hold the next part of the story hostage? No conclusion to this story until Wendy gets four people (that is three others besides me) linking to her LIF blog carnival! Hah! C'mon and participate! Don't you want to know if I made it out of the hotel room alive?