Meandering Moments by Elsi

Ah, the joys of a Colorado summer! The thunder is pretty loud, but lightning’s not close, anyway. The hail has almost stopped, and suddenly the sun is out—so somewhere there must be a gorgeous rainbow!

With the cessation of the worst of the storm, Sallie and Dolphin have gone back about their business: Sallie’s trying to convince me that it’s suppertime, and Dolphin’s on his kitty condo working on his own meal.

A few minutes ago, however, they were both clustered quite close. Sallie was between my knees under the computer desk, and Dolphin was in my lap. Sallie was admittedly frightened, pushing her head under my hand desperately. Dolphin was quite clear that he had come over solely to comfort us poor, weak females.

Brrr! I suppose it ought to be cold, with hail so recent. But … y’know, it’s June! Shouldn’t it be hot?

Ha! {grin}

You know, I’m not a student. I no longer teach. I’m retired and have no assigned schedule. So, why am I so tickled that it’s finally summer vacation? This makes no sense to me, but it’s so. (I confess, I also haunt school supply sales in August, often succumbing to an attractive pencil box or a package of pens.)

I’m working on several writing projects at this time, so the extra time will be put to good use. (Extra time? Elsi, you’re retired!)

And I’m planning two summer trips: Oregon Christian Writers near Portland in late July, with a jog into British Columbia to visit my friend Shannie. And Camp Lake Hubert’s 100th anniversary party over Labor Day. My grandparents were riflery directors there; Mother and I were both campers. That will be like having a time machine, I think!

June … green grass (that will need to be mowed) … bright flowers (that should be weeded) … dog walks (sore hip and too-hot days) …

Okay, ignore the parenthetical comments … I’m looking forward to summer!

It’s 7:15 in the morning, and I just got back from the grocery store. I’m not generally shopping at this hour (I haven’t even read the papers yet!), but today is the official grand re-opening of my favorite store, the 30th Street King Soopers in Boulder. They were offering 10% off the entire order and were expecting major crowds, so I went early!

Such fun … I got to talk with Mr. Romero, a big-wig in the King Soopers circuit. I told him how the store feels a bit like family to me, because of Bill Light (manager), Joel, and Dave King, who is only the world’s kindest man and best courtesy clerk.

And I suggested the chain should advertise the members of the corporate group, to make it easier for me to find stores when I’m traveling. I know City Market, and Dillon, and Kroger, but I’d love a list of the whole bunch and where they are.

It was a good way to start the day. Now, which writing project should I work on next …

Today is Memorial Day (observed—the 30th is the traditional date). I put my flag out as soon as I got up. It’s stirring in the morning air, which is bothering Sallie (my defense beagle).

She’s going to have to cope with it, though, because I love to fly my flag on patriotic holidays. Later today Sallie and I will walk the neighborhood, looking for flags. I think it’s a lovely tradition, honoring our country and its heritage.

My father was in World War II. He, Mother, and I were all Scouts, and patriotism was a major part of my growing-up years. We would put our flag out, fire off a little Bang-Site cannon, and go to a parade and/or concert in honor of the day. Don’t let the flag touch the ground … stand when a flag goes by … don’t talk during the national anthem … I was definitely imbued with flag etiquette.

Over and over in the Bible, God tells us to remember what He’s done. Stack up stones; write words on your hand or doorpost; eat a bit of bread and drink some grape juice. Take action to help you remember and honor what has happened. Today is one of those days.

I’m in Laramie, having taken four solid hours to go the 90 miles from home. I was part of a caravan or wagon train, and had to go the pace of the lead car. Ork!

We’re here for the Beth Moore conference, tonight and tomorrow morning. But at the moment, I’m in a KOA, Sallie at my feet and Dolphin hiding somewhere, listening to the rain on my roof and a Brian Doerkssen song on the CD player. Mary McGregor (who rode up with me), her mother Joyce, and her friend Sharon are checking in at the hotel. They’ll come back for me, and we’ll head for the University of Wyoming’s arena/auditorium. 

Doors open at 5:30; we’ll be there at 5 to get good seats (this from the woman who drove 55 mph on the interstate to get here!). And we get good seats anyway, because I get preferential seating because of my disability, and Mary (my companion!) can save seats. 

I’m amazed at how not-anxious I am!