Tuesday, September 4, 2012

Labors of Love




Got a great facebook coupon for Sweet Frog yogurt. A Sweet Frog yogurt place just came to our town. So I brought my smartphone with the coupon to the Sweet Frog yogurt store along with my Sweet Frog Yogurt loving teen. It was for 12 ounce cup of yogurt filled as much as you could for just $4. Only problem- the coupon was only for the Florida store. I didn't notice that till I tried to redeem it. ONLY other problem- getting 12 ounces of yogurt *without* the coupon would be cheaper.
This made me mad. A bogus coupon that ends up costing the consumer more than getting the product without the coupon. I believe this proves that the antichrist lives.

I had visited my old senior friend Comer in the morning. I had a print out of the NY Times from 70 years ago that headlined the WWII Battle he was in. I thought he would like to have that. The print is quite small, but with his reading glasses and a magnifying glass, he could read it. He surprised me by handing me a pile of poetry.
"I started writing poetry again," he said.
They were mostly poems about his love for his wife, slowly disintegrating from Alzheimers. She was a lucky lady. I hoped he would read them to her, though I suspect she would not understand. It is hard to say what registers in her head these days.

I came home and made a sumptuous dinner, put it in the oven, and then grabbed Asherel and headed on to the Sweet Frog disappointment. I bought her her yogurt and then we went on to pick Mom K up from the Home to surprise her by bringing her back with us for dinner. Except when I arrived, she was laying down, and told me she was sick (oh dear...probably the illness I had unwittingly carried there last week when I taught the little art class). She was improving, but said she just wanted to stay there and rest.

So instead, Arvo, Asherel and I had the sumptuous early dinner and played a game while eating. We haven't done that in a while. It was nice. Quiet. Peaceful. A fitting end to Labor day that had been full of frustrated labors of love.

Psalm 61:1-2 (NIV)
Hear my cry, O God; listen to my prayer. [2] From the ends of the earth I call to you, I call as my heart grows faint; lead me to the rock that is higher than I.






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