It is raining frogs and toads and we are expecting 50 mph gusts of wind this evening. It's gone from 75 degrees at noon to 60 now at 3:30 and will continue to head down from there. Finally, it feels like late fall. The rain should bring down most of the leaves that are left on the trees, I imagine. I'm glad the neighbor across the street had his two dead trees removed earlier this week - I would hate the thought of them landing in my bedroom (their most likely trajectory as I watched them getting more forlorn over the past year).
I decided to work from home this afternoon. I'm cooking dinner for the family with the stay-at-home dad who has inoperable stomach cancer. He's in between chemo cycles, so he actually feels like eating something. I'm glad to give his wife and kids a break by bringing over something (rules are nothing spicy and no dessert). Anyway, given the miserable weather, I'm bringing them a nice warming beef stew over noodles, plus a salad, plus green beans, plus a loaf of homemade bread. Such a small thing, but I really love this ministry (we call it "Meals That Heal"). When I was very sick last year, it was an adventure seeing who was going to bring the food and what it was going to be. I remember one meal that was delicious, but its crowning glory was a large, perfectly ripe pear. That pear was just about the most idyllic eating experience I ever had, and reminded me that I would get better and life would be good again. I hope I can bring a little of that pleasure to this family, which is going through so much.
The Spooky cat is on the desk, reminding me that she was locked out on the sunporch all morning. She is positioned under the halogen lamp, AKA the kitty tanning lamp. Her sister Mia is sitting on the oriental rug in the living room, looking perturbed, which is how she always looks.
We are so fortunate to have this warm home, and a roof that only leaks a little when it rains very hard, and food in the refrigerator. Thank you, Lord.