Relieved

The relief in the air is tangible. We've had some rain, and there's moderate weather in the forecast. For the first time in a long time, our county is no longer is in the "Excessive Heat Warning" area. Within the next week we have one day of predicted highs in the 80's and lows in the 60's. Tonight a thunderstorm in the county west of us looks like it's headed for Reno County. I’m beginning to hear thunder.

I loved how my brother-in-law Marvin Mast celebrated the arrival of rain at 3:00 AM on Sat. He got dressed and sat in the glider on the front porch and watched it rain. I think I would have been a bit freaked out by the fireworks, but I know very well the feeling of being so pleased and so amazed that you don't want to miss any of the event.

We had a small shower on Wednesday evening. I heard Shane tell someone yesterday that he walked outside during church to see for himself if what he thought he heard was really what was happening. He couched the report in religious terms: “I thought my worship experience would be enhanced if it were really raining,” he said–or something like that.

Yesterday at Farmer’s Market, with the rain fresh on people’s minds, and slightly cooler temperatures, the festive market air was back, and early in the day people walked with their heads up and smiles on their faces. True, Roman’s tomatoes sold out in the first ten minutes after the market opened, and no one had green beans because of ongoing problems with pollination for both of those crops, but Shane grilled link sausage and ham steaks for samples, and the aroma wafted over the crowd, and set salivation in motion, judging by the purchases that followed.

The best part of the day was being able to listen to Shalom, the men’s quartet made up of three men from our church (Lyle Stutzman, Willard Mast, and John Miller), plus Eldo Miller. They sang for the crowd, and wowed a lot of the listeners. “That is the most amazing harmony,” someone said. “Do they sing in other churches?” Hearing truth in the words and exulting in the beauty of how it was presented was enough to make my day. Trust me, not all the market music is like this.

Mark Rasette, who lines up the entertainment, came by, and I said, “You’re here in time to hear them.” (He’d expressed regret earlier at not having heard them at “Nine Lessons and Carols.”)

“Yeah, but now I’ve gotta pay them,” he said. I didn’t know any of these people got paid. He gave them $200.00. Not bad. It will help them with expenses for the CD they’re producing this week and next–Word of Life church, with a live audience–on the next two Tuesday evenings.

Saturday night’s rain varied, within a seven mile area, from one inch to two tenths of an inch. We had a half inch. It was enough to make some of those big weeds in the drive near the house let loose of their root moorings with a good yank on the top. It hasn’t been moist enough for that to happen for a long time. Redroot Pigweed is a survivor, and I always looked at those embarrassing weeds with a mixture of loathing and respect. With some cooler temperatures I may even have the oomph to tackle the weeds in the border by the road. As one lady at market told me, the stuff farthest from the house gets the least attention. There’s only so much water and so much time, and neither one reaches around for everything.

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I heard several more “Woes with the Jobs Market” stories on Saturday. One woman told me her daughter got laid off three times in five months. When she applied at the local hospital recently for a job, she was one of 200 applicants. She didn’t get the job “and she’s college-educated,” Sandy told me.

Sheila told me about a friend of theirs, “Keith,” who got a piece of metal in his eye at work, which then got infected, and resulted in him needing a corneal transplant. He missed a lot of work, and his old employer wouldn’t hire him back because he had filed a workman’s compensation claim. He couldn’t find another job.

Meanwhile Sheila and her husband Dave had a serious talk about their own situation. Several years ago Dave got laid off after 30 years with the same company. The layoff circumstances seemed very unfair. He was essentially assigned blame for mistakes a long-gone previous employee had made. Dave found and reported the mistakes and set to work fixing them, but a lot of money in now worthless parts had already been invested. Because “somebody has to take responsibility” Dave got the axe.

After several months, their fortunes changed, and Dave got a better job than he had before. The good times were back. So they began to try to think how they could help other people who were less fortunate in their job situation. After considering making a large donation to local charities, they decided to focus their efforts on providing work for Keith. He had a grapple truck and other tools and skills to do salvage jobs. So they hired him to deal with all the old farm machinery on their place that had salvage value, and was no longer in use. A green dot of spray paint identified the salvage machinery. (“Our good baler was made in 1952. We wouldn’t want him to cut that up by mistake,” Sheila said.) Keith does all the work and gets the largest share of the salvage money. The good will, industriousness, and creativity in this situation is heartwarming.

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This was Grant’s last Sunday at home before he gets married. He leaves for Washington early next Sunday, and, when he comes back, it will be with his wife Clare, and they will move into their own home–in our property on Trail West road. Hiromi and I are this close to being empty nesters. Sigh.

The house remodeling/redecorating project took a big leap forward on Tuesday evening when members of my extended family helped with various jobs. The kitchen still needs the most work, but Myron B. has been working on the countertops, and the end is in sight.

We’ve harvested lots of beets and melons from Grant and Clare’s garden. A 34-pound watermelon and a basketball-sized cantaloupe were some of last week’s yield. The big cantaloupe was delicious–from a volunteer plant of unknown parentage.

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Craig and Rachel’s twin baby girls were in church today for the first time. They’re still very tiny, but doing well.

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Julia S. is scheduled for a biopsy tomorrow on a tumor discovered on her liver. This is a matter of concern and prayer for all of us.

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Uncle Edwin was in church today, brought by his daughter Valetta, who is here from Ohio. He has not attended since he became a resident at Mennonite Manor.

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We had a bonus communion service today, in addition to our regular spring and fall communion services. This was an effort to accommodate the schedule of members who are routinely absent, or will be absent this year, for the duration of the school year. A lot of people were missing–gone on trips.

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Dates for enrollment and work nights at school have been announced. School starts for the high school on August 26. The grade school starts the day before.

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Fresh Pesto sauce is one of the good gifts of summer. I mixed up a batch last week and we all enjoyed it with angel hair pasta tossed with a mixture of stir-fried chicken chunks, zucchini, and onion. We spread the sauce on top at the table. This is the recipe I used:
1 ½ cups basil leaves
1/4 cup Parmesan cheese
1/4 cup pine nuts (or sunflower seeds, which are a lot cheaper)
2 garlic cloves, grated or pressed or chopped finely
salt to taste
1/4 cup olive oil

Everything except the olive oil is chopped together in the food processor, and the olive oil is poured in while the processor is running. Refrigerate or freeze any unused portions.

This sauce is an almost-shocking green, and the flavor is distinctive–addictive, I think, but I don’t suppose my opinion is unanimous. I love Pesto sauce spread on toasted sturdy breads like French or Italian–or on pizza crust or bread sticks. Topped with a tomato slice . . . yum.

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My parents just returned from having been in Iowa for a reunion of people who were married there in 1950. There have been losses between each reunion, and now, in the year of their 61st anniversaries, the reunions are likely soon coming to an end. One of their number was buried on Monday of this past week.

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Jay and Verna (King) Miller are celebrating their 50th wedding anniversary soon.

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I don’t think we got any measurable rain tonight, despite about an hour of blustering thunder and blinding lightening. Right now radar shows that the activity is mostly several counties north of here. I don’t think they needed the rain nearly as much as we did. They’ve had an over-abundance most of the summer. Oh well. . . . Later: Flood warnings were posted several counties north of here. We had only a trace of rain.

At market I heard someone quote a friend who said, “I used to pray that it would rain on my farm. Now I pray that it would rain on anyone’s farm.” That farmer is clearly in the same straits as many here have been.

Hutchinson was listed recently in the Exceptional Drought category, which is the most severe of the five categories. I doubt that much has changed with the recent rains, since we are so far below normal that it will take a lot of rain to catch up. But the trend is looking hopeful, and we’re very grateful.