My Nightmare

I woke up last night about 1:30-ish from a nightmare. My heart was racing, and it took a while to calm down. The cause?

Earlier in the evening, a police helicopter circled and circled above our neighborhood with bullhorn blaring! The problem with a bullhorn from a helicopter is that it is totally unintelligible unless you go outside–which you probably shouldn’t!

If they were saying, “Everybody get out of your houses; they are about to explode from a gas leak!” then we should run out!

If they were saying, “Stay inside because there is an axe murderer on the loose!” then we should probably stay inside, bring the dog in, bolt the door, and–well, you get it.

As it is, you can’t understand what the threat is and cannot respond accordingly except by having nightmares of a black bearded man in a black knitted cap (probably Canadian–maybe Russian, or maybe from Alabama), standing by my slider with a gun, and me so shaken as to not be able to form words. My “Get the gun!” sounded like my gargling. And besides that, Hubby couldn’t hear me with the electric toothbrush on!

So do you get why I woke up, heart racing? Oy.

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Lily of the Lilies

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Lily of the Smile 2

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Lily of the Smile

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Here a Home

Originally posted on A p r o n h e a d -- Lilly:

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Cupped and cradled by mountains, a valley lies.

Above, vapor sliced to alien form is pushed along the wide blue by desert winds—

counterpoint to still, starry nights.

Ants but no antelopes, sand with no beach.

To some wanderers, it is a signpost on the way to somewhere else; but

to some wanderers, the stopping becomes a living,

the temporary becomes a home.

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Weekly Photo Challenge: Muse (and Amuse)

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My Book of Uncommon Prayers: And Here I Am

Originally posted on A p r o n h e a d -- Lilly:

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There have been many times in my life when I gripped tight

in desperation

to calling, gifts, and kin,

thinking that my grip could hold.  And yet

most often,

there was nothing I could have done to prevent the slipping away—

no desperate enough prayer, no holy enough life, no adequate bargain, no amount of  rule-keeping and promise-making.

The dark and loss crept over my youthful optimism and my faulty belief that somehow I was protected—impervious—because

I held the right creeds and made my bed in the right holy camp,

but here I am,

helpless once again, eyes open once again to my need, and

I am gripping tight

to You.

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Look Up!

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We Had a Baby!!! The First GrandSON!!!!

They did all the work.  My job is to cry and wish I could get on a plane!

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Salad for Supper

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