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Old Cowbelle; Message in the blue

--Ina Murray

The morning is warming, not hot, just right for sitting on the deck and counting blessings.

Relaxing in one of four deck chairs, a gift from a few years ago, complete with glass top table, I sit back and enjoy the privilege of being idle. Guilt washes over me, thinking about all my children and some of the grandchildren, working so hard every day (and helping me on the side). And seeing the devastation all over the world. Wars, even children fighting wars, tornadoes, mud slides, hurricanes, starving children. I can’t help feel guilty, having it so good.

I lean back and look up into the blue above and wonder “Why am I so blessed?  Me, an unimportant little spot (well, not so very little) on the face of the earth, not much use to anyone…the oldest rag-tag remnant of our Olson clan…And yet, I am so blessed! Why?”

And up there in the sky is my answer. Two jet planes have passed over from two different directions, leaving their vapor trails in the form of a perfect wavering white cross against the blue! I am not one who longs for “signs,” but holy cow, if I did, that would be it!

But it is a reminder of why I am so blessed. No matter what the future may bring, another cross, a crude wooden one, has bridged the gap between all of us and the God of the universe, who was, and is and always will and on into our uncertain future. Really blessed!

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A sense of humor goes a long way as we get old. I get a chuckle every time I buy groceries. When checking out, and she/he is bagging up my things, they smile sweetly and ask “Do you need help with this?”  Well Duh! Five heavy bags, and there I stand, old, wrinkled with my cane in hand.

I sometimes wonder if they are trying to be nice, inferring that I might not be as decrepit as I look?  Believe it.

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Happy Birthday to Bev on the 23rd! Also, the anniversary of Husband and my first date, Molly Jensen’s Zoo in Pleasant Valley. 68 years ago. (Amazing that I can remember that far back, and sometimes cannot remember what happened yesterday!)

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My sincere sympathy to the Losgaard family with the passing of Barb. She held a special place in my heart, too. Long years ago, she took the time to accompany Husband and me to La Crosse in hopes that the allergy clinic there could help me with my severe allergies. She had been helped there, and I was too. She also advised me about plants. Because of her wisdom, my Boston fern has survived for all these 21 years since it was given at Husband’s funeral. God Bless you, Barb! At last you are breathing free!

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