Doorbell missionaries

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Every other week or so the new local Apostolic church sends its missionaries door to door, competing with Jehovah Witnesses for our attention. We look through the peephole at stalworth believers, seeing them spy other homes with cars in their driveways once we don’t answer. Little do they understand that we have a faith and travel in the second car to worship outside our neighborhood. When we’ve tried to tell them this, they don’t seem to hear and so send others to our porch while we, having given up verbal kindness, aspire instead to hold our faith in quietness.

Garden grapes

The wonder of the garden doesn’t cease as mama brings in grapes from a corner of the yard.

“Where did these come from,” I ask.

“Papa planted them. I keep trying to get rid of them, but they keep growing,”

“Are these the ones under the fig tree? I checked those just last week and they were still hard.”

“No, those are in the shade and take a long time. These are in the bright sunshine.”

“Where?” I ask.

She points to the corner where she harvested our breakfast feast and I tumble outside, pajamas and all , to see the vines growing wild next to a sage.

Holiday grill

In an effort to simplify our lives and find the old alternative to the gas grill craze, I purchased a small portable barbeque grill for a song and took it home for our upcoming holiday festivities.

Unpacking this new purchase, I found instructions and what appeared to be thousands of bolts labeled, AA, BB, CC, DD, etc. that corresponded with a large diagram.  It didn’t look simple.

So with the help of mama, we laid this large project on the living room table, divided the bolts and set to work, screwing and unscrewing feet and lids and handles, taking a full hour and a half to assemble this our new holiday grill.

“Couple outside with their grill:  Cocoa Beach, FL,” by Murphy, August 1970, State Library and Archives of Florida

Sink holes

Desert water, poured out in an oasis, drains back into the dryness, but does little to care for those who are parched. Instead, the water rolls off washing away the dirt or disease that held on. Who knew where it came from? Wind blown dust, infected travelers, those unaware that they were carriers, constantly creating foul waters from which to feed their workers. Unaware of the mess before them, the cycle continues while those who catch a glimpse of the disease turn to stop the sink to catch and then let the leeches drain away.