From Drought to Drenching

What a difference 6 months can make.  This past summer I chronicled the horrific Drought burning up our neck of the woods.  Our pond, or "tank" as it's called down here in the south, is the lifeblood of our farm for the livestock and the wildlife.  An oasis of beauty, offering a drink deep for the goats and deer, a cool, green haven for the snappers and bullfrogs, and a place of serenity for our souls.

Weeks of a searing sun and the accompanying super-heated winds caused havoc on the land, parching even the deepest of tanks. We were not sparred the trial.

This is our tank mid-August, 2011.  Heartbreakingly dry.  Praying for relief and the soaking, life-giving rains.

Fast forward to the winter rains of this past week!  Not just a sprinkle, nor a soft spring rain.  This was a flood of biblical proportions.  Well, almost!   5 inches in less than 2 days.   There is now water overflowing!

Often the trials of our lives parch the very soul.  It's so easy to become brittle and dry in the fire-storm.  May the winter rains of peace soothe the scorched hurts of the trials you bear, bringing relief you never expected.  A blessing overflowing...

A Flower Blooms

The last few days have been quiet and uneventful.  Well, as uneventful as you can get in the hospital!  Mom's condition is pretty stable. Lungs are improving by baby steps.  Each day shows a slight decrease in the fluid on her lungs, and yesterday, the pulmunologist gave the thumbs up on going home soon.  BUT... she will be going home on oxygen.  Her lung function is still too low.  He said it may just take time for her lungs to completely heal.  So, another bump in the road. On the bright side, her run of i.v. antibiotics will be finished sometime Monday.  Hopefully, they'll spring her soon thereafter!

I finally left the hospital yesterday evening for a weekend back home.  Dad will be spending today and tomorrow with mom at the hospital (say a prayer).  It's a funny feeling, walking back out into the hot, sunshine and leaving the rigors of the ill behind me.  Living at the hospital is sort of like living in a vacuum.  I feel just a tad disconnected with life!

It only took a few minutes, however, to catch up with the unrelenting Texas heat wave.  Very little relief seen in that department in the past two weeks.  As I rolled out of the Dallas-Ft. Worth area north, the dry, parched pastures told the story.  Today, we mark 61 days of triple digit heat for the summer.  40 of those days were consecutive.  We had a brief shower several weeks ago that knocked the temp to 98 for a high, and then we were right back up over 100.  I like to think we're used to this heat, but, boy, this summer has been brutal.

I took the drive home slow and absorbed the impact.  This drought is taking a toll.

As I turned down the gravel lane to our place, I held my breath to see the pond.  And it wasn't pretty.  A stagnant green scum was all that was left.  The walking bridge is up high and dry. And the cracks are big enough to fall in!  Just Picasso designs in the dirt. This is the anatomy of a drought.
 

And yet, in the midst of such a scorched landscape, I came upon this beauty:

Blooming purple tendrils in a barren field.

A gift.

Tenacity and passion come together under a blazing Texas sun.  This flower is doing what it does best, regardless of the circumstances surrounding it.  Kind of like mom walking down this cancer wasteland.  Regardless of her circumstances, she still has the tenacity, the strength of will and the desire to be a thing of beauty where she is. 

And that she is and will always be to us. 

Beautiful.

Inside and Out!

Bring on the Rain!

All's Well! The trap remained undisturbed through the night. (Check yesterday's post for the whole story.)

Either the nightly scavenger has succombed to heat stroke (a very real possibility in this unrelenting Texas heat wave),

OR

They recognized the work of a higher intelligence (me) and slunk off to the woods to regroup....

And while they were regrouping, storm clouds were gathering!  The very real kind, with rain drops and rumbling thunder.  Hallelujah!

Today marks the last in our streak of 40 straight days of triple digit heat!  We only got up to 96, and when the front moved through this afternoon, bringing the rain, the temp dropped to 75.  Perfectly blissful!

As the first fat raindrops began to fall, the air took on the aroma of rain sizzling in a skillet.  Each drop splattered into the dust, sending up puffs of steam.  You could smell it coming!  As the storm rolled and rumbled, the rain began in earnest and we watched with grateful hearts as dust turned to sodden earth and soaked up each precious drop.

Leaves are washed clean.

Flower buds open in thanksgiving.

It has been the perfect kind of day for mom to laze around, with feet elevated, of course, and watch the rain drizzle patterns on her windows.  It's been a long drought, and this little 1/2 inch won't do much to alleviate the water shortage, but, oh, it gives hope to this parched heart.  Pancreatic cancer takes away so much, so fast, that it's easy for our hearts and spirits to dry up, to lose hope.  We begin to look and feel just like the scorched fields outside the front door.  A break in the chemo this week, a night of cards with best friends, laughter and gossip, lunch date tomorrow.  Life takes a turn for the normal and suddenly we feel better, coping easier, even forgetting at times we're in the fight for her life.  That's  a tiny trickle of hope in this desert place.  So bring on the rain!  It's exactly what we need.

Thank you, Lord. 

You are our Rain-Giver,
                           Heart-Healer,
                                   Hope-Restorer. 

Too Hot in Texas!

Mom's been running like the Energizer Bunny this past week, and I think she finally hit the wall on Sunday! But before that, she enjoyed a great dinner out Saturday night at the Trail Dust Steakhouse with Steve.

Couldn't get her out on the dance floor, but watching the boot-scootin' sure was fun!

And unfortunately, she's been paying for all the fun now.  The first part of this week have been spent recuperating. Appetite's waned, fatigue has taken hold, and the chemo-crappies have set in. Thankfully, she can snuggle in on the couch with a good book, pillows for her feet and nap whenever the mood strikes. It's hard to imagine how people deal with cancer and these treatments, and still hold down a job or raise a family. And we know there are many brave and courageous cancer survivors who have done just that. Our hats are off in your honor. It takes a massive amount of energy to battle this disease. And to keep going when your body is so wrung out. True heroes. My paltry woes pale in comparison.

Praying that mom's strength returns in the very near future. Chemo #2 in this cycle is tomorrow. I think the heat wave may break by then - forecast predicts a high of only 100!  Yesterday, our outdoor thermometer hit 106.   A friend told us that it was so hot...How hot was it, we asked?  It was so hot that all the grasshoppers were sticking to the shady side of the fence post. We laughed and then we looked. She was right! Every fence post had dozens of grasshoppers clinging to the shady side!   I just had to get a picture of that!

Turns out that I'm not a very good grasshopper photographer!  Every time I got within 20 feet of the fenceposts, the grasshoppers' antenna swiveled in my direction, and they all went into panic mode, leaping to the four winds.  I must have sounded like the proverbial stampeding elephant to their sensitive ears.

But all's not lost.  Leroy, as it turns out, is a very good grasshopper stalker.  He captured these photos for me when he got home from work.

It may be hard to see the hoppers, but they're there on the shady side of the t-post!  Now, how strange is that?!  Tell me, does this only happen in Texas, or what?

As you can tell by the photos, the pasture and ground around here is parched.  And it's only July!  August is knocking on our door.  Texas is in the midst of an extremely severe drought.  While we may laugh at the oddities of grasshoppers, the truth is that farmers, livestock and neighbors are hurting.  Today marks the 26th consecutive day of triple digit heat in the north Texas area.  That's hot!  I don't care if it's dry heat or not, it's just hot!

Saying our prayers for mom, for rain and for healing.  To all in the heat wave zone: Stay cool, drink plenty of water and keep your mouth closed (flying grasshoppers are everywhere)!

 Love ya, Jane