Thanks Anne for praying for those of us in the path of the hurricane. We are in S. C. It’s a devastating mess here. No telling when we will get electricity. We are in the country. Of course the city should get it first. There have been deaths. We have a generator and have waited for gas for two hours. Our neighbors have been terrific. One dear friend gave me coffee-I needed it desperately. The young man next door got a back hoe in here and made short work of the nine trees that were in the gravel road. We think a tornado came through as neighbors trees are in our yard and tree bottoms are twisted. Forgive my rambling-tiredness is not a good word for my state. I’m sick about N. C. as I have family there. Lord have mercy on them.
My parents did most of that so well. My father excelled at 1 and 2. When my father forbade my first serious boyfriend in college he did so with a firm foundation of having done #6 all my life. Many Saturday mornings he would wake us all up by reciting the fist stanza of the Rubaiyat of Omar Kahyyam in a loud, triumphant voice. After we'd grown past spanking age, he also used to recite this poem to us with a grand twinkle in his eye:
Thanks Anne for praying for those of us in the path of the hurricane. We are in S. C. It’s a devastating mess here. No telling when we will get electricity. We are in the country. Of course the city should get it first. There have been deaths. We have a generator and have waited for gas for two hours. Our neighbors have been terrific. One dear friend gave me coffee-I needed it desperately. The young man next door got a back hoe in here and made short work of the nine trees that were in the gravel road. We think a tornado came through as neighbors trees are in our yard and tree bottoms are twisted. Forgive my rambling-tiredness is not a good word for my state. I’m sick about N. C. as I have family there. Lord have mercy on them.
It's only by the grace of God we managed to raise three amazing women who know Jesus. Your comments ring true and are validating.
My parents did most of that so well. My father excelled at 1 and 2. When my father forbade my first serious boyfriend in college he did so with a firm foundation of having done #6 all my life. Many Saturday mornings he would wake us all up by reciting the fist stanza of the Rubaiyat of Omar Kahyyam in a loud, triumphant voice. After we'd grown past spanking age, he also used to recite this poem to us with a grand twinkle in his eye:
"Speak roughly to your little boy
And beat him when he sneezes.
He only does it to annoy
Because he knows it teases."