Vacation time!

I just took a week off work and spent the time in Northern Arizona at my house. I had such a nice time. I had all sorts of things planned that I wanted to do--drive to Lake Powell, or maybe Colorado. I ended up doing almost nothing except yard work and napping, and that was fine with me.

The weather was pretty good, little rain, so most of the days I spent moving the hose around watering trees I've recently planted and trying to protect them from the hungry elk that love to eat aspens. "Aspens are like elk ice cream," one of my coworkers said. My friends, who come up almost every Sunday to nap on my porch, call me by my new Indian name: "Moves the Waters" because I'm constantly getting up to move the hose from one tree or plant to another.

I put up several hummingbird feeders and each day more hummingbirds seem to discover it. This weekend I lost count of how many were fighting over the feeders, but at least three dozen, I'd estimate. I finally broke down yesterday and hung up a third one. Each day as I napped I could hear, as I dozed off, the sound of hummingbirds chirping, wings flapping, and the wind chimes that don't even phase the birds. Here is an awesome sight for many wonderful hummingbird pics.

Each afternoon I napped, so I guess I needed the sleep. I went to a meeting almost every day and wandered around town hitting the thrift stores and chatting with people. It was a great vacation.

One day last week, a woman stopped by my house to introduce herself. She had moved in to the empty house near me. She looked like one hundred miles of bad road. Her car was a rolling wreck, windows knocked out, no door interiors, wires sticking out, threatening my curious dogs' eyeballs. In the first four minutes of conversation, I learned she had just gotten out of a Kansas jail for failure to pay child support, and had just had her license suspended for driving under the influence of marijuana and methamphetamines. I excused myself for a minute and went and got her an NA meeting list. "You don't have to live like this," was about all I said.

Sunday I noticed her walking down the road and offered her a ride. She was going to the local cafe for breakfast. Last night I took her to her first meeting and, with tears in her eyes, she got her newcomer chip. It was pretty neat. She also peeled off the bucks for a Basic Text, so who knows? It's always an uphill battle for the newcomer, but if she's as sick and tired as she looks, maybe she is ready. One of my friends in the Fellowship tells me he's just the postman--he delivers the message. Whether the other person receives it or not is up to him or her. And God, I usually add. Isn't it true that it's merely God's grace that we get the program or we never arrive? Who can explain why I get it and my wonderful relative struggling for years with his alcoholism does not?

So until I blog again, dear readers, put out a hummingbird feeder. The small investment will pay back untold dividends.