06 November 2011


Last night was pretty rough when Bethany was curious and stuck her hand under a running, very textured, treadmill. I couldn't get downstairs fast enough when I heard the screaming. Then the sight of her hand literally made me sick to my stomach. We washed, she screamed and daddy got her bandaged up. She continued to scream and wail. I couldn't fix it which make my heart ache and my stomach hurt even more.

Today is a new day.

Before Pastor started the sermon, he informed us that one of our members was prepping for a c-section. No fun. As the sermon was coming to a close, someone announced in church that baby wasn't breathing. Everyone froze and we collectively prayed. With a few minutes the news began to improve a little at a time. Interesting that we'd been talking about how God redeems life. Oh God, please move mountains for this little baby.

No desire to stand around and chat after church today.

We head home. Quietly. Get home to our excited dog running circles around us. While getting out of the van to grab a few things and get back on the road, I heard the dog wailing. In pain. I met him a few yards away and saw that his front arm/shoulder was bit to shreds. Again. Walking around the garage, I see the neighbors dog. Seriously!?!?! Didn't this just occur 3 weeks ago? Harley wouldn't let us near him. So I ran in the house to grab him some food and coax him out from under the porch where he was still wimpering.

Was that a puddle in the floor?

Setting the food on the porch I came back in the house. Yes, water on the floor. I looked up to see water dripping from the ceiling. Really!?!?! Isn't water cascading from upstairs only supposed to occur other places - like hotels? Ryan headed up stairs to see the water in the sink still on. Darn kids. This isn't the first time they've left the water on. But it is the first time we've left with the water left on.

Clean that up quick. Place ice-cream buckets under the dripping spots. Coax Harley out with food. He runs to his kennel favoring his leg. I ask the vet about surgery and jump in the van letting the professional deal with him. I'm thankful Ryan can do the surgery but it isn't free. It does cost money to put the dog under, sew him up, and give him meds. So frustrating.

Heading down the road, I make another courtesy phone call to the neighbors. Not wanting to rock the boat, cause I love our neighbors, I want them to know that I'm frustrated and something's gotta change. Something has to change. The second time. In my yard. Grr.

A year ago, when the time changed, our wood pile caught on fire. At least that didn't happen again this year, right?

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