Different Eyes

I was out on some errands this morning and stopped by my sister’s place to visit and finish my coffee.  I thought she might be in the yard working with her garden, and I was correct in that assumption.  She was doing some digging and pruning of garden plants.

It was windy, but not yet uncomfortably hot when I arrived.  She finished what she was doing and we sat in the back yard swing and visited for awhile.  One of the things she did before we sat down was fill the bird feeders she has in the yard.  She has a couple of seed feeders as well as a suet feeder and bird bath.  They had been empty for a day or two, but when she refilled them, it didn’t take long for the word to get around the bird neighborhood that goodies were once again there for the taking.

Within just a few minutes, there were three or four birds, a dove, a finch, and a couple of sparrows that were at the feeders.  In a few more minutes, more doves and sparrows found their way there along with some starlings, a blue jay, and a brownish bird that I couldn’t identify.  The squirrels also made appearances, tightrope walking on the fence tops and power lines to get there.

Her yard is good for critters.  She has no dog and the yard is fenced.  She has a family of rabbits under her shed, and I’m sure other critters find their way into her yard from time to time, especially at night.  The garden lends itself for animal thieves to make off with tender shoots, blooms, or produce.  She feeds the birds.  There is shade, water, and a measure of protection.  Life is good for the birds and animals in that back yard.  I enjoyed sitting and visiting, watching the birds and squirrels at the feeders.  When it got warmer and I had things to do, I excused myself and left.

This is the same house where I go from time to time to sit on her screened-in porch.  It’s shaded there, and when the breeze blows just right, it’s a great place to spend the noon hour, or an evening time.

Sis thinks sometimes that her house, because it is older and is showing its age, isn’t what it ought to be.  That may be, but there are many folks in this world who would give their eye teeth for a screened-in shady porch, a back yard full of critters, and tall, mature shade trees that keep out the summer sun.  Functionality and charm are in the eye of the beholder, and this beholder believes the house has a charm that is seldom matched in the newer, suburban neighborhoods and upscale areas of town.

For God, (you just knew I would have a spiritual application, didn’t you) beauty is in the eye of the beholder as well.  Whereas we know we are sinful, failing creatures, if we are accounted as His children, He looks at us (beholds us) through the blood of His Son, Jesus Christ, and sees only perfection and beauty.  He accounts us as righteous, just as he did Abraham, because we believe.

So, next time you drive by or see an older house that may have some quirks and foibles, look at it with different eyes.  Look for the charm and beauty.  And think of God and His view of us through the lens of the blood of His Son.

To Go Back??

Last Sunday, the wife and I took an afternoon trip down to Harper County and vicinity.  I wanted to see some of the more out-of-the-way places in the area…Milan, Argonia, Freeport, Bluff City, Spring, Manchester, Waldron.  It has been years since I’ve been to some of these places, and the drive on the county roads to get there was just what the doctor ordered for Father’s Day.

None of the towns has gained in population.  None has re-developed its business district.  In fact, it is no surprise that the towns have continued to deteriorate from how they were 30, 40, 50 years ago.  Bluff City, for example, did have a small business district many years ago.  Now, the buildings aren’t even there.  Schools are shuttered and lifeless, or they are now senior centers or other use.  Roads aren’t very good, and the paved roads that once went to these communities are now gravel.

Trains no longer go through Freeport on their way to Anthony.  No rails traverse through Spring and Bluff City on their way to Metcalf…the end of the line.  Co-ops, old vehicles, some mobile homes, and a post office are all that is left (Freeport still has a bank).

But the thing that really struck me is that on all of the county roads we traveled, there were no farmsteads…no homes.  These roads we went on were the main roads to and from these communities; yet the lack of houses and farmsteads was stark and telling.  I’m not sure anyone lives in rural southern Harper County anymore.

Years ago, one could drive those roads with a knowledgeable person, and that person would point out this farmstead, that home place, or some ranch.  They would know who lived there, and maybe call the place by the original owner’s name, such as, “There’s the old Macksville place…Yeagers live there now.”  But forever, it will be “the old Macksville place.”

Now, there aren’t even trees and a driveway where homes, barns, corrals, windmills, and buffalo grass used to be.  They’ve for the most part been bull-dozed and put to use as farm ground.  Not that there’s anything wrong with that, but I have to wonder where the guys who farm now actually live.  And just how many (or how few) farmers are there, anyway?

And the oil.  My goodness, the oil!  It has, along with wind power, forever changed the landscape of that part of Kansas.  Derricks are drilling the new fracking wells now, and there are oil storage tanks, oil businesses, pipelines, oil trucks, and suffering gravel roads all over the place.  And in the distance one can see the wind farm in Barber and northern Harper Counties.  From as far away as 15 or so miles, those towers can be seen.

And talk about forever changing the landscape.   New power lines are springing up.  Newly-found wealth and demand is creating a miniature building boom in Anthony and Harper.  Harper has a new water tower and a remodeled hospital that fills two city blocks.  Both communities have new motels.  Oil businesses have moved in on the outskirts of both towns.

So time moves on.  People move on.  Places move on.  And those memories of how things used to be are no more than that…pleasant thoughts that surface from time to time at the urging of something we see, hear, or smell.  And the reality is that we can never go back.  We can never have it “like it used to be.”  And I’m not sure but what I wouldn’t want to go back anyway.

It's Over...(Thankfully)

Well, it’s over.  I didn’t go, however, and I didn’t miss anything.  OK, I know that sounds rather curmudgeonly, and it probably is, but I’m talking about the Wichita River Festival that clogged the downtown streets, left trash in various public and private areas, caused traffic to be re-routed, and generally was disruptive to many who live/work in this area.

Oh, I know there are many who enjoy such things, and I don’t begrudge anyone for that.  Wichita does have a major river flowing (sort of) in its downtown area, and there needs to be some way to celebrate that fact, I think, as well as utilize the green spaces, parks, and other places along and near the river.  So, it’s all good, and those who enjoy such things surely took advantage of the opportunity.  Rock on…

But it’s also disruptive to routine and costly.  Used to be one could wander around many places without a five-dollar button.  Not now.  I didn’t even go to the food court this year because I didn’t want to spend the extra five dollars to be let in.  The only other thing I might have wanted to watch was the fireworks show, and I can see that without a button.

So, call me a curmudgeon if you must.  And if you do, I’ll gladly show you my official curmudgeon certificate from the ISOC (International Society of Curmudgeons).  And maybe something like RiverFest would put some spring into my step and some gallop into my gait…I dunno.  But I’m not sure I want much more “spring” than I already have, and I don’t think I could handle a gait “gallop.”

We deal with closed streets, various races and runs, and other events through the year at our church building downtown that it is becoming normal to come to church on Sundays from the north instead of taking the most direct route.  Life is indeed like that; we need to be prepared to be moved from our routine and adjust to the unexpected, even if we don’t like it.  And I really do “get it.”

So, here’s to the River Festival, the 5K runs, the 10K runs, the bike runs, and all of the other that makes us take notice that life isn’t normal and predictable by any stretch…and to the curmudgeons of the world who let us know in no uncertain terms the truth of that statement.

Who Would Hvve Thought??

Three weeks ago, I went to the dentist because one of my molars was hurting.  The tooth had done this a couple of years ago, and at that time the dentist thought that eventually, a root canal would have to be done.  The time finally came, and he did the root canal on that visit.  He said there was “no good tissue” in the tooth, and I could tell from the odor that it was in bad shape.  He gave me an antibiotic and some pain pills and told me to see him again in a week.

After several days of rather severe pain, dulled only by Tylenol #3 and Lortab, I went back to see him.  He had by this time received a couple of calls from me, and had changed my antibiotic.  He said it was still infected and needed to heal some more before he filled the tooth and sealed it.  I went back after another week, and he said the same thing, only this time he was going on vacation for two weeks.

It’s been a week into his vacation and I’ve already seen the “substitute” dentist who agreed to see his patients if needed while he was away.  I have yet another new antibiotic I’m trying and am back on the pain medications after having several days when I could go without.  I’m ready for this to be over.

Yet I have to put my experiences with this tooth in the context of the First World that I talk about some, and how this same thing might play out with someone who lives in the third world.  First, I may well not be alive at my age if I lived in the third world.  Second, if I was alive, I may well not have ANY teeth by now.  Third, if I had teeth, and if one was infected, a dentist, antibiotics, and pain medication would be luxuries that I could only imagine.  If I did manage to see someone who worked on teeth, whether a Dentist or not, the tooth probably would be pulled and I’d be left to deal with the aftermath of infection, bleeding, and pain.

The active ingredient in Tylenol, acetaminophen, and the active ingredient in Motrin, ibuprofen, are common medications in the homes of most people in the first world.  Aspirin is also very common.  We pop those pills for twinges of back pain, minor arthritis, headache, and any number of other things that make our bodies not quite normal.

We can obtain antibiotics at the local pharmacy, with prescription, for just a few dollars unless it’s a new, high-powered one of some kind.  The old standbys are plenty cheap, however.  And insurance pays most of the cost anyway.

And we can usually get in to see a provider without a lot of difficulty.  I went to the office at 1:30pm, and was told that if I wanted to wait around, there was an opening at 2:30 and the dentist would see me.  So I waited and read a Readers Digest after filling out the new patient forms.  I realize some rural areas and “backwoods” areas are a little less accommodating and have fewer providers, but by and large, most of our population has someone available, if necessary.  And dental insurance pays most of the cost.

Hopefully, things will improve with this new antibiotic and with what she did to my tooth.  Hopefully, I’ll feel better and can go until my dentist gets back and I fulfill my appointment with him next Wednesday.  Hopefully, I won’t have to ask for more Tylenol #3 or Lortab.  Hopefully, I won’t have to ask to see the substitute Dentist again.  But I know those things are available to me if I need them.

Sincerely thankfully, I happen to be blessed with living in the First World.  Who would have thought??