Waiting

I didn't get out of the house till late in the day, and these watermelons are what most pleased my eyes. I'm waiting. My good friend Devorah left her home on the east coast before it was even dawn out here on the west coast, bound for Portland so we can have a face-to-face visit. We've been friends 20 years, but when I was in South Africa and Texas, she was in California; just before I moved to Oregon, she moved to Connecticut. So we're lucky if we get a sit-down once a year.

This time the delay is thunderstorms in Texas. She was stranded in Shreveport for hours while the Dallas airport had shut down. Finally she's in the air on the way here. She'll get in after midnight my time, dazed with exhaustion, I'm sure. Meanwhile I've been goading myself to draw, but I haven't gotten up the courage to try. Maybe after I post this blip.

The urge to draw has been with me since childhood, but I have absolutely no talent for it, so I get disgusted with myself and frustrated. But today I saw a very stirring six-minute TEDTalk on Alzheimer's, after which I got to thinking that I MUST teach myself to do something with my hands. I don't cook, sew, knit, make things, or put things together. I've always relied on my brain. But my mother and grandmother both got Alzheimer's in their 80s, so it's pretty likely that if I live that long, the monster will get me. I hope I don't live that long, because I really don't want that monster; but just in case.... Alanna Shaikh has the right idea. Do something with your hands. And work on purity of heart.