Grace, Grass and Towels #20

July 2009

At the end of a hard week, I’m less hopeful, but still refreshed from swimming outdoors. We couldn’t tell if anyone was even here for an inspection—was one even scheduled? Inspiration—or desperation—struck, as I ripped out pictures from travel and food magazines and decorated the house walls.


On my bike ride, I saw a wild turkey, a raccoon and a coyote. I sang a phrase from my Spanish music cd to the coyote: “mi Cristo siempre es fiel a mi.”

Tortilla curiously watched the bubbles in the water bowl we placed under the faucet in our tub. She caught one, surprised when her paw got wet. It’s an extra source of water for the cats now that they’re behind the vinyl door.

I’m reading Alexander Hamilton by Ron Chernow. It helps to focus on details of another time and place.


Herein I document my first forced trip to the public laundromat. So far, our washer and dryer have worked in their current location, albeit in an awkward, cramped space since workers have built the wall that divides the laundry room into a kitchen pantry on one side and laundry closet on the other. My daughter liked the journey: putting in the quarters; watching the towels flip and toss in the dryer; and dumping them on the folding table. A police car passed with lights flashing. I wrote “soap suds=clean duds” and Revelation 22:14 on the plastic bag I filled with laundry soap.

When my husband and I moved from California to Ohio, we stopped in Albuquerque, New Mexico, to wash clothes. A laundromat customer surprised us by asking where we were from.

“How did you know we don’t live here?”

Our outfits for the day apparently set us apart from the local fashions.

plastic picnic

Plastic picnic: we’re trying the MorningStar Farms® Chipotle Black Bean Burger.


Another month of dust ends with an 18 hole golf scramble. My daughter’s golf clinic paid off; we used several of her shots as the best ball as we moved towards the green. A brief downpour among whispering blue spruce refreshed. We came home and cats had escaped the vinyl door (again); cotton candy clouds returned the Alabama air to a more natural state—hot and muggy. I begged my family to go swimming; didn’t happen. Only one adventure per day!


A note for the electrician above the light switch doubles as faith affirmed.