“There is no real ending. It’s just the place where you stop the story.”

― Frank Herbert

Sunday, July 14, 2013

More Rain, how to evacuate ferrets in a fire, and Sunday extreme worship.

This is the second week of straight thunderstorms, coming in during the evening and going all night. Some of them have been 24 hour events. Today is no exception and I'm staying inside. There isn't a lot you can do here when it's raining. I did manage to cut one quarter of the meadow yesterday during a lull.  The meadow is on a steep slope, the grass is wet, and under it is red clay.  Since I'm up here alone for awhile while the wife visits the kids, I don't think I'll try that again. Just going to have to wait for it dry out some. I have no desire to have the mower go over with me under it. That has happened to people I knew up here and it sure makes a mess.

On the other hand, no fear of forest fires started by people from the city while everything is sodden. I have to sweat out every summer, worrying about getting burned out.  That's the one thing that could do me in, short of an asteroid or some other exotic and not very likely turn of fate. There have only been two fires that threatened my place in the last 27 years, so the odds are with me.  I still keep my ferret carrier near the door though, in case we all have to bail out in a hurry.

The ferrets would like to use my wicker desk trash can as a bug out vehicle, but I think their carrier is a bit more practical.

At least rounding them up won't be a problem. The two old ones sleep in their "snuggy bag" by the feeding station.  Two of them sleep in the cabinent under the sink , in an old pair of sweat pants. The other two sleep in my room in the closet. Like me, they are creatures of habit and tend to have the same routine day after day. Ferrets sleep about 16 hours a day so my odds of finding them in bed are good.


Since I've been housebound by the weather,  I've had my scanners on in the background.  Whenever we have a period of bad weather, we have a lot of "domestic" calls. I'll bet the Sheriff's department hates it when it rains. This day has been no exception, and there was a " knock down drag out" in town that got out of hand. Sounded like the wife was winning that one.  There have been the usual calls for an ambulance at a couple of the churches that I guess you would call "Primitive Baptist" or "Foot Washing Baptist." Those services tend to really get rolling, with people talking in tongues and flopping around in ecstasy. Some of them overdo it, particularly the elderly, and have to be carted off and revived. I know one lady here who can abruptly receive a  communication from God without warning. She goes into a "state of grace" where she shrieks loudly, starts hollering in " tongues"and turns stiff as a board, crashing to the ground in a monumental face plant. I'm not making fun of anybody, but I would have to say I don't usually visit with her too long if we meet in the aisle at Walmart. I guess the Indians were right about people like that being touched by the Great Spirit. Either that or somebody needs some attention.  Either way I'd prefer not to be on site when she gets visitations.  In so far as I know, none of the churches in my county practice "taking up serpents." You'd have to go about 20 miles across the state line to see that. On the other hand, "taking up serpents" is illegal now in the Southern States, so it may be going on and people are just keeping mum. When I was a kid, there was a song about a country singer who was invited to Sunday services at a Foot Washing church in the mountains.  He was up front by the pulpit and had just finished his songs when they brought out a big box of rattlers and started passing them out. I remember the song said he asked the preacher where the back door was. The preacher said "we don't have a back door" and the singer said "well, where do you want one?"  I take his point.

So things are quiet in the mountains today.



6 comments:

  1. Maybe that woman that spazes out when you're around is trying to tell you she likes you.... ;^)

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  2. I think she is the real thing. Nobody could go stiff as a board and fall face forward in their right mind. I don't necessarily think God is talking to her, but she does. She has a husband who is pretty normal and I wonder how he puts up with it!

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  3. In my youth I was made to visit a couple of those church services...it made a lasting impression on me. Never again. I'm in agreement with the Native Americans. Wish we here in my town could use scanners. The local law enforcement scramble their singles.

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    1. Most of the big towns scramble and used trunked links. Here, we have one frequency for the police/sheriff's department, one for the Fire/EMs people. They are straight line of sight VHF links, so there is a repeater on a mountain top. Just about all the locals have scanners because you know what's going on in the county as soon as it hits the airway. When I get a haircut there's one on the shelf at the barbers, same as there is where I get my oil changed.

      I have been to a few of those services (sans snakes) when I couldn't get out of it, and I have a real hard time not laughing. Not that it's funny, I guess it just makes me nervous. The congregations take it dead serious and they tend to be pretty hard cases, not people it pays to offend.

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  4. When I was a teen I went to church with my then current girlfriend. We are sitting there on the pew, me blissfully unaware of the act of speaking in tongues, when the lady in front of me jumps up and starts and soon joined by her son sitting close by.
    If my gf had not had her fingernails planted firmly in my thigh I would have been gone over the back of the pew and racing for the door.
    I was a little chagrined that not only wasn't I warned but was seated right behind the 2 most likely speakers in the whole church.
    BTW, welcome back.

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  5. I can't imagine walking into that environment with no warning.

    Yes, it's been awhile.

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