New job starts tomorrow. Feels like the night before the first day of school, right down to getting my backpack ready.

Lots of feelings today. Like everyone, I had plenty of half-assed and “good enough” days. And (as a co-worker would say) it’s accounting work; we’re not saving lives here. But, on the whole, I’m glad I can say I did the work with integrity.

Today is my last day after 24 years. I said some goodbyes yesterday and there will be a few more today. Still having a hard time believing it. And, dangit, there’s a $3,500 variance between the balance sheet and income statement that has me stumped and I may have to leave with it unresolved!

Reminder to myself in the low light of winter: strong sun on a patch of brown eyed Susans. Also: remember that it’s been hot as hell for weeks now and maybe winter would be a welcome break.

Going through a new door

I have a new job at my hometown credit union as the Accounting Manager. After twenty-four years at my current job, I put in my notice last week. My final day there will be July 31st. I start at the credit union a few days later.

I’ve been working remotely since the start of the pandemic. About a month ago, my current org announced a change in their work arrangements that would have had me back in the office an average of four days a week. I did that ninety minute a day commute for 18 years and I don’t want to go back to it.

I am extremely fortunate at the way this new job came about—and how quickly it came about. The office is five blocks away, which means that even though I’ll be in the office three days a week, I’ll have zero commute.

This is not quite the way I envisioned this part of my career but it feels like the right next step. As Wendell Berry says, “we live the given life, not the planned.”

A home remedy I hadn’t thought about in years: baking soda and water mixed into a paste for bee stings. Actually, in my memory we used for any kind of sting.

Something I don’t feel like I see much anymore: oncoming drivers flashing their lights to warn of a speed trap ahead

Memories of Jimmy Swaggart

Jimmy Swaggart has died. He was a really big deal in my childhood. I went to one of his crusades in the early eighties with my parents. Mostly I remember being amazed seeing the guy on my television in real life.

His end-times preaching scared me. He had a series of broadcasts on that subject which began with an ominous fist-shaped cloud on the screen. One day I saw such a cloud outside the window and flipped out. No one was home at the time and I was sure I had just missed the rapture. I called a couple of relatives and they weren’t home either. Finally I got hold of someone who was able to assure me I was not damned.

I vividly recall his tearful confession of sexual infidelity. It was a shocking moment for me. Around that same time I started going to our local youth camp, which introduced me to a wider variety of preachers than my sleepy little congregation usually had. More strident ones also. My shock over Swaggart’s fall was short-lived after hearing from those preachers that he was a compromising backslider, who left the true faith many, many years ago.

So … no particular point here. Just wanted to get these memories down on “paper” on the occasion of his death.

One of the best things in my life is Rachel’s bread. It’s been ages since we last bought bread from a store. This is honey oat whole wheat.

I’ve been in the ER with mom since 7am today. Likely a bad episode of vertigo but they’re doing tests to make sure it’s nothing more. At one point, apropos of nothing, a voice I hadn’t heard before suddenly said “the kingdom of heaven is like unto a treasure hidden in a field.” It became quickly obvious that it was a woman reading to her husband. But the unexpectedness and the setting made it feel like a moment of grace in a tiring day.

This morning, pumping gas at the station on the edge of our neighborhood, I felt again what I’ve sometimes felt over the past few years as I’ve turned toward my particular place, and learned to love it warts and all. One of Wendell Berry’s phrases came to mind: “it all turns on affection”:

For humans to have a responsible relationship to the world, they must imagine their places in it. To have a place, to live and belong in a place, to live from a place without destroying it, we must imagine it. By imagination we see it illuminated by its own unique character and by our love for it. By imagination we recognize with sympathy the fellow members, human and nonhuman, with whom we share our place. By that local experience we see the need to grant a sort of preemptive sympathy to all the fellow members, the neighbours, with whom we share the world. As imagination enables sympathy, sympathy enables affection. And it is in affection that we find the possibility of a neighbourly, kind, and conserving economy.

April vacation

I’m back to work after taking last week off–and I’m delaying dealing with all of these messages by writing this post. So what did I do?

  • I made good progress on the chair I’m refinishing. I used a couple of rounds of citristrip, which worked well on the old paint. That was followed by hours of scraping, basically. It’s not done, but it’s in pretty good shape at this point. It needs some final sanding before I re-paint it.
  • The three of us went to Madison, IN. Pictures taken by Darcy here.
  • Spring is green smoothie season at the Abel house, and that kicked off last week. I’ve started using some wild violet leaves for a portion of the greens. And I’ve started adding some beet powder to help control my blood pressure.
  • I harvested a couple of cups of lilac flowers to make lilac simple syrup. I’ll probably do another round in the next day or so.
  • I rearranged by books. After many, many years of separating fiction and nonfiction, I decided to just smoosh them all together. (Poetry still gets shelved separately; I’m not sure why.) Needless to say, this is big news. There’s some grumbling and jostling on the shelves as the new neighbors get acquainted.

Darcy took some photos today during our trip to Madison, IN. A great little town, if you’re ever looking for something to do for a day in southeastern Indiana. We usually go at least once a year.

If all goes as planned, I’ll be visiting the (Wendell) Berry Center in Kentucky on Friday. I’ll probably also visit Port Royal, his hometown and the inspiration for the fictional Port William.

One week until vacation. We’ll mostly stay around home. Maybe one day down to Madison, IN. Maybe a solo day trip. Mostly just not thinking about work.

I got a handmade straw hat from the local Amish community. My family and friends’ reaction has been … mixed. 😂

The night of a thousand buckets

So how’s climate change going for y’all?

On Wednesday, April 2nd, a big storm rolled through the area. Thankfully, we were spared the worst of it. Many, many people–including folks in the area–were not so lucky.

We went to the basement when the tornado warning was issued for our area at around 11pm. While we were down there, we found a few leaks. One was in the wall:

And, bizarrely, one was flowing like a water feature up from the floor:

We were able to put a bucket under the wall leak but there were also some prolific leaks in the back of the basement. A neighbor said his rain gauge measured 4.5" inches of rain over the course of that night, so there was a great deal of water flowing into our basement.

Near the end of the tornado warning, our power went out–which means the sump pump stopped running. Once the warning ended, I started bailing out the sump pit and continued doing so until 2am, when the rain substantially stopped. I wouldn’t even want to guess how many gallons of water I took upstairs to the kitchen drain. (All drains in the basement just empty back into the sump pit!) The power came back on about ten minutes after I stopped bailing.

Rachel then spent the next couple of hours sweeping the remaining water into the sump pit and using the shop vac on our water feature in the floor until it finally stopped flowing. The good news is that neither the furnace nor the water heater suffered any damage.

The next day, Rachel and I felt like we had hangovers. But we bought a generator, which will help us make sure we can run the sump pump (and anything else) the next time the power goes out. We looked at battery backup systems for the sump pump but the generator will serve that need for the time being. We also have a plan for patching the leaks once we manage to get two dry days in a row.

We’re increasingly thinking in terms of preparation, in case weather unpredictability increases due to climate change. We’ve never had a generator before, because it seemed mostly unnecessary. Now it feels judicious to make the investment. We’ll see.

We’re all okay this morning. Thanks for the expressions of concern. No significant damage but it was a crazy night. I’ll tell the story when I get some time today.

Tornado warning, so we’re all in the creepy basement for the next twenty minutes or so. I hope everyone stays safe tonight!