A still, silent world

The severe thunderstorm warning has expired without more than a few drops hitting us, though it was all around us. I could hear thunder to the north and to the south, which makes sense since the two systems were to collide right about over us. Right now, everything outside is perfectly still and silent—almost eerily so, in that quiet that may precede a storm. Nothing moves, no birds sing—well, of course not: it’s night. Sophie is staying close to me. There is still a tornado alert until 2:00 a.m.

Nice working weekend, when I got good things done on my manuscript. I’m at the point of plugging in bits of information and catching inconsistencies, repetitions, etc. Woke in the night last night with the realization that something was off. A young man in the family I’m studying died at twenty-five after marrying an astounding eight times. But in my manuscript, he was born in 1902 and died in 1922. Now no matter how profligate, I don’t think any man could manage eight marriages by the age of twenty. So I had to go back and do some digging—turns out he died in 1928. Still a pretty amazing record and not exactly an admirable one.

Had several things on my mind this morning—things I had to do at my desk—and so went to church on the computer. It’s so easy to get out of the habit of physically going to church. Jacob had an overnight guest—a good friend whose parents were out of town—so Christian said he was busy cooking them breakfast. We vowed we will go to church next weekend—and then found out today Megan and her family are coming then for the TCU/UT game. Grandson Ford is a die-hard TCU fan, which really tests loyalty since they are not winning this year. I think several stellar seasons have lulled TCU fans into complacency, so this season comes as a real blow.

Sunday supper tonight—I fixed hamburger Stroganoff, being too cheap to buy tenderloin for real Stroganoff. It was good but took longer to fix and was more work than I had anticipated. Maybe that’s because, contrary to my usual habit, I followed the directions step by step. While I cooked, Jordan got a bee in her bonnet and cleaned the junk drawer in my office file cabinet, occasionally muttering about what deep trouble I am in. It’s one of those drawers everyone has—pens, pencils, note paper, Scotch tape (six rolls), stamps, batteries, skis for my walker, non-slip caps or the canes I never use. Her goal, which she achieved, was to put extra printer paper where I could easily get at it—it’s been in a bookcase, behind several boxes, and inaccessible to me—I had to wait until someone came along to get paper for me. She started on my paper drawer—scads of old manuscripts which made drawing paper (on the back side) when Jacob was young but are hardly used now, greeting cards without matching envelopes, legal pads—who knows what else. I imagine she’ll discover some odd things when she gets back to it.

A new week ahead. Hope it’s a good one for everyone.