Tractor on Fire; Katie on Tractor

When it comes to household jobs, cutting the grass is my favorite.  I get to fly around the yard, write, and get paid for it.  Sweet!

I'm quite a sight when I cut the grass.  Today I am wearing a blaze orange shirt, not quite matching the orange of my tractor, and brown shorts with black Chacos (I'm looking to enhance the Zorro-like tanlines on my feet).  To top it off, I'm wearing my notorious cowboy hat, I have a blue Off! fan latched to my shorts, and my iPod is strapped to my thigh using the elastic band intended for a runner's arm.  Yeah, really pretty.

I'm lost deep in thought, memories, and stories that may someday be blog-worthy when all of the sudden I hear this nasty noise.  It kind of sounds like I ran over something, but I haven't.  I keep going and there is a second noise, not as loud as the first.  At the third noise, I stop the tractor.  I see Mom inside the house walking towards me as I turn it off.

"Did you hear that?" I ask.

She assures me she has and asks what it was.  Like I know.  Then she tells me the tractor was smoking.

I hop off the tractor.   "It's on fire," I say.  "Yes, I see a flame."  Keep in mind, I hate fire.  Been there; done that.  Lived to tell the tale; have the scars to prove it.

Mom runs to get the fire extinguisher, her trademark move.  From a reasonable distance, I watch the grass burn.  There is only one flame, but it is bigger than you would see on a candle.

"Do I even know how to work this?" She asks as she pulled the pin out of the fire extinguisher.  She pushes the levers together and it blows a fog-like gas.  Well, the wind take it and it showers me with fire extinguisher fluid.

The flame goes out, our tractor needs to be serviced, our fire extinguisher needs to be inspected, and the grass still needs to be cut.  Oh, and I smell like Off!, grease, freshly cut grass, forget me nots, smoke, and fire extinguisher.

When we tell Dad what happened, he just laughs.  And laughs.  And laughs.  He's now outside trying to fix the poor piece of flaming machinery.  I told him to scream if he needs me to call 911.  All quiet in the front.

I'm fine, by the way.  A little traumatized and just as pyro-phobic as ever, but it's just another day in the life...

<>< Katie

Thank for the Noise

Yesterday was my first day to sleep in since the 9th and I took a full opportunity to do it! It would have worked a whole lot better if it weren't move-in day for returning students. Yeah, the brilliant architects who made this building forgot about insulation. I'm not kidding. There are some bullet-sized holes in the wall where we can literally see through into our neighbors' room. So, yesterday I awoke to the banging of desks against the wall, the slamming of drawers, and the building of bunk beds. What a perfect way to start the day. :-)

As luck would have it, I ended the day in the exact same fashion. As I lay there in bed praying midnight would come and visitation hours would end for their male friends with big booming voices would be forced to return home, the air conditioner turned on. That was all God needed to do to get my attention.

You see, my friend Kaitlyn (who I blogged about a few weeks ago) is so sensitive that she can't tolerate ANY noise. The noise of the air conditioner is too loud.

Thank You, God, that I can tolerate a certain level of noise.

Thank You God for the ability to hear.
Even if I'm unintentionally eves dropping.

Take a minute and thank God for those things you often overlook or become annoyed with. The gurgling fridge. The ability to smell, even if it is the garbage. The ability to see, even if you see more than you want to. The ability to touch, too bad you got your fingers stuck together with glue. The ability to talk, even when those crude four-letter words slip out.

<>< Katie

"Pray continually; give thanks in all circumstances, for this is God's will for you in Christ Jesus." 1 Thessalonians 5:17-18

Angels

Yesterday morning my alarm went off just as a new song started on the radio. I heard the initial chords and got really excited thinking it was "Angels" by Amy Grant. I quickly then remembered that this radio station doesn't play any songs that weren't recorded in 2008. There's so much good music that has been lost by their exclusivity (ok, yes, that really is a word. I had to go check), but that's a whole different story.

Last night, I was listening to my iTunes on Party Shuffle, not really paying any attention. I usually play my iPod because the internet makes noises (the virtual door slam was just a few seconds too early there, oops.) and it drives me nuts. For some reason, this perticular day I had iTunes on instead, but I didn't think much of it until I went to shut down my computer.

Then I heard it. Again. The opening chords to "Angels" by Amy Grant. This time it really was "Angels" by Amy Grant!

So I woke up yesterday morning hoping "Angels" by Amy Grant would be the first song I heard in the morning. Instead, it was the last song I heard at night. Ironic? I think not.

<>< Katie

God's Sense of Humor

Last night, I went to bed hearing thunder off in the distance. Before I fell asleep, the distance had gone and the storm was here. Torrential rains poured down on my house, lightening flashed, and thunder roared. I listened to the sounds of nature, praying they were a simple thunderstorm and no more. I contemplated checking the weather to see if tornadoes were anticipated. Tornadoes have a tendency to appear when least expected, and I expected them last night therefore there would not be any. After all, God is in control and if a tornado blows my house over, in His loving arms I'll be. This storm made me think back to one several years ago.

I was still in high school one evening when a storm rolled through. We'd eaten dinner but no schoolwork had been done when the power went out. Our power goes out quite frequently. It's created problems and since then we've put in a generator. However, the generator only powers certain rooms and appliances (the sub pumps, the refrigerator, the furnace, etc.). Needless to say, my bedroom and computer aren't on the generator. It was going to be incredibly difficult to get my homework done in a dark bedroom. It would be just as hard to get my homework done in the lighted kitchen where my sisters were panicking and the radio was blaring.

Frustrated due to my overload of work and inability to do it, I opted not to do any homework for the few hours we were without power and just sit and enjoy the storm. Grumbling and moaning about the lack of power, I sat on the couch in the front room and watched the lightening, listened to the thunder, and peered out into our eerie neighborhood sans electricity. The lightening was lame and when I whispered,
"God, this is a boring storm" a huge bold of lightening flashed and thunder cracked shaking the whole house. He would make a liar out of me! The lightening got much more interesting after that.

Finally, I stopped my complaining and began to thank God for the nice break from the world. How I needed it because I was feeling overworked, underpaid, and not appreciated (just a perk of being middle class and educated). If taking the power away was the only way He could get my attention, so be it. Thank You.

At that very moment, the power came back on and a floor light was shining brightly into my eyeballs. Wow, You're funny. Lesson learned.

<>< Katie

"The men were amazed and asked, 'What kind of man is this? Even the winds and the waves obey him [Jesus]!'" Matthew 8:27