   Don’t forget to leave comment to enter this month’s giveaway. This set of canning utensils is going to somebody’s home!! Better sign up before April 15th or you will miss out on your chance! As you remember in part one, we had arrived at a log cabin from the late 1700’s, where we were to stay, and I was not a happy camper. We unloaded the car, put Ellie in her crate and found our way to the retirement community to see my parents. Their home is lovely and the community is amazing. We were shocked to see this jewel in such a tiny town and I understood why my mom and dad had chosen this place to put down new roots. But this knowledge did not erase the heaviness that I was feeling.   I dreaded heading back to the cabin, however, we finally did and I fell, exhausted into the twin bed nearest the floor lamp. The only way that we could turn that light off, was to unscrew the light bulbs, however, the rest of the lights and the lighted Christmas tree stayed on all night. I was too tired to care. At one o’clock in the morning, Mr. Fix-It was frantically calling my name and I groggily asked what was wrong. “You have to get out of here and into the parlor. Take Ellie with you. We have wasps.” Finally awake, I could see wasps pinging back and forth against the ceiling, like in a pinball machine, and diving into the lighted table lamp across from my bed. Now, I must insert here that I am extremely allergic to wasps. I don’t just swell up like a balloon. No. My throat and tongue become alien objects, my hair tries to crawl off of my head, my ears and throat feel like I’m the fire eater on the circus side show and never mind the crazy heartbeat, the hives on hives have me imitating Job from the Bible. And I had no epi-pen. So, I vamoosed, in my PJs, to the parlor, fully aware that the people upstairs might come down at any moment to see what was going on.  I could hear Mr. Fix-It slamming the wall with what turned out to be a 1991 copy of Better Homes and Gardens (yep – 1991) that was lying on the dresser. He killed a number of wasps and declared the coast was clear. I crawled back into bed. The next morning, Mr. Fix-It had me out of the room again and attacked another round of wasps with a vengeance. They were coming from a gap between the ceiling and the log wall next to my bed and seemed attracted by the heat (evidently the heat had not been turned on for awhile) as well as the light of the table lamp. My hubby decided that we would trade beds to put me on the far side of the room. He admitted that the mattress on his bed had a tendency to slide due to the unlevel bed and the slope of the floor and that he had nearly rolled off a couple of times during the night. Oh well. At least I would not be so close to all of the wasps. I could see that it was raining cats and dogs outside. It was Sunday and we were to go to church with my parents – in the pouring rain – and after getting little sleep. I was NOT in a good mood. I had to fully dress in order to head to the bathroom to take a shower (didn’t want to embarrass our upstairs neighbors if they decided to appear). I turned on the little space heater and shivered as I started the water in the big, extra tall, clawfoot tub. It was then that I discovered that the door to the bathroom did not lock nor did it shut very well. I leaned against it and got it to close and then contemplated how I was going to crawl over the sides of that tub without killing myself or spraying water all over the room. It was one of those moments where you turn one way, then another, start to lift one foot, then the other and come close to freaking out in a feeling of total helplessness. I finally sat on the narrow, curved side and slid down into the tub, butt first, crawled to a kneeling position and then carefully pulled up to a standing position. The nice, warm, strong stream of water was a relief and I had a moment of bliss. That is…until I opened the curtain to a steamy room, reached for my towel, stepped out of the tub and suddenly realized that the door was standing wide open with a view of my glorious, dripping, gray headed body for all to see in the entry way! I dove to shut shut the door, grasping my towel with one hand and sat on the closed commode, laughing myself silly. I could hear Mr. Fix-It swatting more wasps. Our situation seemed utterly ridiculous. I figured that I would call the manager after church.  And then we got to the church in the pouring rain. It was one of the most beautiful churches I have ever seen. Sparkling white siding with stained glass windows, a bell steeple and gabled roof – the scene was like a picture back from 1800’s Kentucky – with cars. Inside was bright and cheerful on that dreary day and everyone was so friendly. In one, short year, these people – and this church had people of all ages: children, young people, young marrieds, elderly – had embraced my parents and were excited to meet the daughter. I was amazed at the quiet reverence of the sanctuary. People were not visiting. They were very quiet, reading scripture, praying perhaps, but all was very respectful. The minister gave the most amazing sermon and the music…oh the music…it was absolutely gorgeous. There was a tiny brass section, an organ, a piano and handbells. The instruments simply graced the singing with musical undertones while the voices of the congregation nearly blew the roof off of the building. At one point, the music minister stopped the instruments and the congregation sang, in parts mind you, a cappella, to a beautiful hymn. I had goosebumps. I have not heard that kind of singing in a very long time and teared up because it was so wonderful and moving. Two young people did a piece on the handbells and I was worn out just watching them. The whole experience was so worshipful that I realized that God had taken my focus off of myself and my feelings and had planted it squarely back on Him and His blessings. It was a turn around moment.  After a grand lunch at my parents’, spent with them, my sister, and a cousin and her family whom I had not seen in years, I reported the wasp dilemma to the manager and she called the owner to remedy the situation. He showed up at our cabin room door and introduced himself. I was delighted to find him to be a fellow artist who was eager to share his craft with me and the history of the cabin with the two of us. We got a complete tour and he left us with a can of Hot Shot wasp spray and a fly swatter. Yep. He did. There was no other room available. The next morning, I got up and made another stab at the shower, only this time I put my toiletry case in front of the door to hold it closed. I was grateful for the space heater because it was exceedingly cold and I even felt a little at home as I dressed for the day in that little room.   When I trundled back to the bedroom, through the old parlor, Mr. Fix-It was grinning and told me to look out of the window. A heavy layer of snow covered the ground and the whole farm was a white wonderland. The cabins, with the Christmas candle lights in the windows, stood out against the glistening snow and I knew that I had to grab my camera. It snowed all day and night and all day the next day. It was beautiful. The cabin seemed warm and cozy when we returned from my parents’ home, in spite of the difficult front door and the wasps appearing every so often to be stunned with bug spray and then swatted. I felt transported back to Daniel Boone’s “Old Kaintuck”. We curled up with hot tea to watch a movie and then drifted off to sleep.  We left that snowy, quiet little town around 1 pm the following day, a tearful good-bye to my parents who live so very far away from Oklahoma. But I came away with a peace that God has them in His right hand and that they are where they are happy, healthy, active and welcome. We met many lovely people, including the manager and the owner of the bed and breakfast, and I no longer feel like I will be visiting my parents in a strange place. And I kind of miss that cabin!!  |
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I’m glad things worked out well after all, but I bet you scouted around for a better place to stay next time you visit!
Yeah…I don’t know. The place kind of grew on us by the time we left!! 🙂 But then, I guess that could be like Stockholm Syndrome! giggle
Wow! Nothing like a bit of excitement to get the blood going, eh? Well, the pictures are certainly lovely, that’s for sure. If nothing else, your trip was really… memorable.
🙂 Best regards…
It was THAT, Hawkeye! 🙂
Saw your giveaway on the farmgirl connection! Your site is just gorgeous! I’m just starting my garden, and plan on canning, so fingers crossed 😉
C
I am so glad everything ended on a good note. Blessings to you and your family.
Thanks, Kelly. 🙂 You are entered.
Coccocolorado, thanks for hopping over and glad you like the site! And you just might win!! 🙂
Would love to win the canning supplies! FUN give away! Thanks! 😉 I love your photos on this blog too…so homey! I want to come for a visit! 🙂
You are entered! And come away. Tea and scones are waiting on a visitor. 🙂
Reminds me of the camping trailer we rented. We arrived late at night in a pouring rain and just wanted to go to sleep. Within a few hours the kids announced they were out of there. We had been invaded by ants!
Oh dear, Cindy. Wasps you can swat, but there just isn’t a whole lot you can do about ants!!!! You are entered.
thanks for letting me enter, i also pinned on pintrest!
Thanks, Brandee!! That was nice of you. 🙂 Your name is in the hat.
didn’t mean to, but had to laugh at the situation with the wasps. Sounds exactly like stuff my family goes through on our ‘adventures”! Love reading your blog–and the stories.
Thanks,
Just received my second order. A handwritten note, Sealing wax, brown paper packages tied up in string, a complimentary mix and recipe – love it. Couldn’t find a place to leave my order comment.
Del, a lifetime Okie
Thanks for reading, Janet!! Glad I could give you a chuckle. And you are entered.
Del, thank you for posting your satisfaction!! 🙂 So glad that we could be of service…and you are entered in our giveaway!
I LOVE YOUR STORIES!!
I LOVE YOUR STORIES!!
OOPS — somehow I hit a wrong button…… twice I guess ha, ha
I just love how you tell your stories and I was just cracking up. I know, when one is in that situation, and I have been in some like that also… it is not funny. But when you look back, and/or start telling people what it was like, it seems so much funnier than serious. Course, for you… the wasps were serious so I know that is not funny.
It did look like a wonderful place and without some of the weird things, would be fun to be there…..but maybe just one night. I did love the look of it all though.
Exactly, Diane!! It was pretty neat from the outside. It was the inside that was the problem!! But we now have a funny story to tell. You are entered.