Yesterday morning about 6 a.m., Jim was reading about a tornado blowing 57 rail cars off the tracks when a horrific crashing sound startled both of us into jumping up and running for cover. We thought it was an earthquake. A cupboard in my dining room, an overladen shelf, apparently, sheared the supports on one side, and gave way. My bone china dishes came crashing to the floor. Two major losses, my grandmother's crystal bowl and a crystal butter dish. Broken handles, chipped plates,...well, it was bad, but it could have been worse. The taste of Thanksgiving dinner will not be affected. There was a time when I enjoyed setting a beautiful table with everything matching, just so. I've been known to become very attached to favorite things. My cousin Marge Rowe gave me a sign and hung it in my kitchen that has numerous times given me pause.
I remember telling my kids when they were half grown, never cry for anything that can't cry for you.
The good sweet earth sustains us, family & friends. Love & happiness & good health are treasures. And I'm grateful for that sign. It helps remind me to put things in perspective.
As the day warmed, Jim got out and finished washing the motor home. We gave it a hose-over wash on the road, can't remember the town. Then a major cleaning in Connecticut, inside and out. Now its second major cleaning yesterday with over 16,000 miles of road time. We have yet to tackle the inside except for doing the laundry. Life is good.
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