A couple of articles in this week's Hudson Star Observer caught my eye...
(Left) At first I thought this one was a joke, but then I read on and learned that it is simply scary beyond reason. Click on the article to read the highlighted line.
And this one's for you, Wade Prestrud...I'm glad you've found a new hobby!
Just one life on the road with so many others, trusting in a God who holds onto her more tightly than she to Him.
Monday, May 19, 2008
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
Going Raw
So, as I said before, we eat a lot of fruit. And we're getting back to eating smoothies in the morning in our attempt to eat a bit more healthily.
But that's not what this post is about. I couldn't resist Martha's idea for the title after all the raw-foods hub-bub from our last Latte. No--this story has nothing to do with juicing, but another sort of "raw".
First, a bit of background... Remember this past winter when Jay slipped on the mysterious patch of ice that had formed in the corner of our yard, next to the city's retaining wall? He and Karin had been playing on that ice when she began to slip, he jumped to save her, his face landed on a tree trunk, and his lips were torn apart at the corner. Five stitches and a thousand dollar ER visit. And where did that ice come from, anyway?
Jump forward to springtime. The snow has melted. The strange ice is gone. But now there is a shiny dark trail running up the hill from the spot the ice had once been. I walk up to try to figure this puzzle out, but come to no conclusions except that the slick looks disgustingly slimy.
Weeks later. A nasty smell wafts outside in the evening hours. "It must be those bags of leaves we left out all winter," I tell Brian. "No," he replies. "That smell is foul."
A few nights later. I am cleaning the garage last Wednesday evening as Brian is at STAND. All of a sudden, I hear the sound of trickling water. I decide to follow my ears and walk down the driveway toward the street, a sneaking suspicion culminating into dumbfounded revelation...the sound is coming from the place where the ice was which is where the slick is which is what is smelling so foul which IS BECAUSE THERE IS RAW SEWAGE FLOWING ONTO MY PROPERTY! "Nice," I mutter to myself as I turn to walk back to the garage.
Next morning. As I return from my run a truck pulls up from the city. I hadn't called the city yet...someone else must have smelled the odor. I inform the really nice man of the situation. He nods. Apparently, a sewer line runs down from the hill and was ruptured by tree roots. Thus the shiny, slimy, dark, smelly, line that once was frozen and led to my son's facial trauma.
Wonderful. My kids have been playing in our neighbors' pee and poo all winter.
It's all fixed now. The shiny blackness is turning into a dull grayness...Should have some lush growth along there this summer, I would imagine.
But that's not what this post is about. I couldn't resist Martha's idea for the title after all the raw-foods hub-bub from our last Latte. No--this story has nothing to do with juicing, but another sort of "raw".
First, a bit of background... Remember this past winter when Jay slipped on the mysterious patch of ice that had formed in the corner of our yard, next to the city's retaining wall? He and Karin had been playing on that ice when she began to slip, he jumped to save her, his face landed on a tree trunk, and his lips were torn apart at the corner. Five stitches and a thousand dollar ER visit. And where did that ice come from, anyway?
Jump forward to springtime. The snow has melted. The strange ice is gone. But now there is a shiny dark trail running up the hill from the spot the ice had once been. I walk up to try to figure this puzzle out, but come to no conclusions except that the slick looks disgustingly slimy.
Weeks later. A nasty smell wafts outside in the evening hours. "It must be those bags of leaves we left out all winter," I tell Brian. "No," he replies. "That smell is foul."
A few nights later. I am cleaning the garage last Wednesday evening as Brian is at STAND. All of a sudden, I hear the sound of trickling water. I decide to follow my ears and walk down the driveway toward the street, a sneaking suspicion culminating into dumbfounded revelation...the sound is coming from the place where the ice was which is where the slick is which is what is smelling so foul which IS BECAUSE THERE IS RAW SEWAGE FLOWING ONTO MY PROPERTY! "Nice," I mutter to myself as I turn to walk back to the garage.
Next morning. As I return from my run a truck pulls up from the city. I hadn't called the city yet...someone else must have smelled the odor. I inform the really nice man of the situation. He nods. Apparently, a sewer line runs down from the hill and was ruptured by tree roots. Thus the shiny, slimy, dark, smelly, line that once was frozen and led to my son's facial trauma.
Wonderful. My kids have been playing in our neighbors' pee and poo all winter.
It's all fixed now. The shiny blackness is turning into a dull grayness...Should have some lush growth along there this summer, I would imagine.
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