Pix 'n Prose: Lucky

Feeling awfully lucky. Or,as they say in Christianese - "blessed".

Had a pinterest-inspired bookmark making moment at bookclub last week:

These boys had a gaming night at my place.

Saw this fantastic movie with good friends:

Visited my dad, who demonstrated for me his ability to 'stand and transfer himself' from his chair to his bed. And this: (from my mom's facebook status: Pete had a cognitive test today and scored 12 out of 20. This same test was given to him July 2012 and he scored 0. Christine his care aid nurse is so pleased with these results.
Pete was a little melancholy today. He kept saying "Don't forget me." I don't think he realizes that I come every day.
I'm so thankful for the care he is getting at Kinsmen Lodge, the care aids are so gentle and patient.")

Amen.

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Went to church and heard ANOTHER fantastic sermon in the Daniel series. (If you don't go to church, you totally should. If the idea doesn't interest you because Christians are all judgmental and hypocritical, I'm so sorry. We can be horrible representatives of the God we love and serve. Maybe read a Bible? Find out for yourself just how very much you are loved by the powerful God who created you.)

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Clint's truck was broken into late on Saturday night. The crack addict who needed a $20 hit stole $1700 worth of my boy's techy stuff. (Laptop, tablet, etc.) I am sad for the desperation that brings a young man to the point of picking up a rock and smashing a window out. I'll pray for him, the kids who broke into my house and the interesting fellow who broke into our place at Cultus. May they get the help they need. And may God use this situation for His good purposes and His ultimate glory.

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I walked into work today and noticed a delivery of 14 boxes waiting for me at reception. They were all small and light, but too cumbersome to carry at once, so I grabbed two to take on my way upstairs. One of the men from a totally different department was waiting for me on the stairs.

"Are all those boxes for you?" he asked.

"Well, I ordered them, but they're going to different departments." I answered.

"Do you want some help carrying them up?"

"Oh, it's OK. I'll get to it later..."

"I'll help. Don't do it by yourself, come get me and I'll give you a hand."

This is a senior staff member.

Offering to carry my print orders up to the second floor.

I was/am blown away.

I mean, the guys on the Creative Team are super attentive. (They note when the sun is causing a glare on my monitors and offer to adjust my blinds. If my recycling box is full, they offer help in getting it emptied. If an anonymous snack shows up at a meeting or on our proofing table, they acknowledge my puny contribution and thank me. If a project goes well, someone thanks me for keeping them organized.) But I don't expect senior guys from the President's office to notice the chick from Creative receiving boxes in reception.

The other day I emailed a question to the tech team, and within seconds the head guy was standing in front of my desk, offering to get my iPhone set up with a wireless connection. And when I confessed I didn't know what he was talking about, he did it for me, WITH A SMILE. Like, this is what he was created to do - help old ladies deal with their devices.

And it occurred to me... this is why some people put in long hours at work. (Not here. Everyone's gone by 5:30. But at other places.) It's such a nice environment. Everyone works together toward a common goal. There is mutual respect for everyone's contribution towards that end. Manners. Kindness. Helpfulness. I guess some people have homes filled with family members who are considerate and selfless. I'm a little bit jealous of them.

I had the boys here, on and off, most of the weekend.

I asked if one of them could go down to the crawlspace and take a peak, I needed to know if there still was standing water down there. "Shoddy NOT." "Not me." "No way."

Sigh.

Jane house is not FOTF.

But then.

Clint stopped in today, at my work, so I could show him around. He knew a few of the kids on the Creative Team, so he chatted with them. Then he wanted to see all the other floors, so I showed him the underground, secure, heated parking garage, the warehouse (which reminds both of us of our past wholesaling days), the third floor with it's roof-top patio and wall of windows facing the mountains... and finally my own office. I was proud to show him where I spend my days. And I was proud to introduce him to the people I work with.

Hours later, I came home.

The house had been tidied, the lights had been turned off (which is rare if Clint is the last one to leave a room) and a note was waiting for me on the counter.

I've since put it on my fridge, because I love it. And him. And his brothers.