Cat Wrangling and Other Such Stuff

 I'm cat wrangling again today. One of the cats discovered by our redneck solution, uh temporary solution, a small slit in the screen whereby gaining access to the back porch. I thought I was seeing the shadow of one of The Boys in reflection but no, it was a cat not in the hat but on the porch. My presence, compete with my disheveled appearance of hair straight up and flannel robe. Think a messy Aunt Bea or Granny Clampett. I opened up the screen doors and finally nutsy the cat gave up going against the screen and leapt to victory out the door. That's when I began looking for his access and found the small opening. Another hint was his going to that spot and trying to get out. Got a long piece of metal from when we got our metal roof and put it up against the screen, using some small flat rocks to hold in place, dag nab it...That way when Roy gets home from his unplanned trip to Lowe's after working out we can fix it but in case the curiosity that could kill that cat temps, I'll hear the rocks falling on the porch. Yeee doggies! 

Via my friend Pam, I discovered the joys of reading the Mildred Budge series. I started the first book written and it is kind of rough. Not polished like after writing several books of a character. So for now I have skipped that book and reading the Cloverleaf book. It's in the title and I cannot remember titles. Miss Budge is an older lady, retired teacher, never married but dutiful church member. She has a soft side but she doesn't show it often. She was working in the clothes closet at her church, she had parted with a few strong, respectful polyester blouses and hanging them up for the missionary conference where they helped missionaries and part of that help was good used clothes. The thrice widowed Liz came in, to leave her third husband's clothes and the two Sunday School members begin a conversation that softens up as they talk. Mildred begins to see beyond the facade of Liz and maybe she has misjudged her fellow classmate. Mildred ponders her change of heart and she places it right on the practice that church feels like home. Liz had told her that, it just wasn't a place to be for her. Mildred ponders this and goes through her duties and such quickly in her head. She had jobs, she knows where stuff is and she is always on the lookout for a mess to clean up or a speck of dust to destroy. She never had thought about the softer side of home, especially there at the church. That got me to thinking as well. First Baptist in Houston has always been a big church but it had a small church feel. There are so many opportunities to join others not just for study or volunteering and such, but being able to make friends while doing these things helped many get over that First is too big for me feeling. At First Baptist, I mainly made my first friends at the fitness center and in choir. I am so thankful for the vision that Brother John had to build up the Body of Christ, to be able to go out and do the work, both physically and more importantly, spiritually. Guess church is like home too when someone in the family is mad and at odds with other family members. I like thinking since I haven't finished the book, that good old Mildred lets some of that legalism go. I do like that she practices praying without ceasing and we get that look into her prayer life from the author. 

Roy brought home stuff from Lowe's and we fixed up the screen near the back porch door. We are thinking that we might try to find someone who can do kickplates to put around the bottom of the screens. For the most part the back porch isn't of interest to the cats but every once in a while, you have a cat that seems obsessed with the mystery of the porch. We got everything done before the rain hit. 

This week while studying for Sunday, no surprise here, but the lesson took a different direction. There is something about some of the phrasing or wording that gets my attention. I have been researching two of those phrases. I haven't found out that much about them but that hasn't thwarted my pondering and meditating on them. This whole story of Abraham has come alive for me. I remember we were doing the Patriarch study on Tuesday nights with Beth Moore and Katrina had hit New Orleans and we had many people in Houston sheltering. Franklin Avenue Baptist began having their services at First and office space was provided for their staff. It was looking like Hurricane Rita was on a direct path for Houston. We met that Tuesday night and Beth said, who knows what will happen but we will trust the Lord. Roy and I made the decision late that since everyone was headed west, we would head east kind of in the path of the storm but we felt we could beat it. We were heading toward Shreveport. All along the way our plan had been if we reach Beaumont and we don't think we can make it, we will turn around because that is the amount of gas mileage we would have. To this day, I have never seen this sign again, but while Exxon stations were packed along the route, we noticed this little sign pointing to a neighborhood Diamond Shamrock station. There it was, no line and as dark as pitch. We filled up and headed back to I 10 making our turn toward Shreveport in just a few miles. With the study of Abraham fresh in my heart, I told Roy we are like Abraham and Sarah, we are going someplace but we have to have faith that the Lord will get us there. Do you know that all through the years Roy and I have tried to find that gas station. It is nowhere to be found. I think we had a Hagar experience like she had when she and Ishmael were wandering aimlessly in the desert. God heard their cries, she saw the well. God heard our cries and we saw the sign. In commentaries I've read, the discussion is was the well always there or did God create that well just for her? I don't know about that nor do I know about that gas station we found, but it was all truly God. He is the God who sees and hears us. 

The second house across the way has sold and the people moved in this week. We were not around for their actual moving day nor have we seen them. It seems strange to have those houses there now. It is also strange not seeing Mary Joyce across the way. Her daffodils are blooming and she loved her little plot of flowers. 

The Boys are full of energy this morning. Thundering paws break up any silence around here. At least we know they are on the move and soon will come nap time.