They know that I am a germ-a-phobe and don't like drinking out of other people's glasses and would faint at the thought of using someone else's toothbrush. I also keep hand sanitizer in my purse for appropriate moments, like when we're encouraged to shake hands with people in church - especially when I just saw them cough or wipe their nose minutes before. I just had the thought that it might be residual caution I developed when I was going through chemotherapy when my immune system was compromised and I had low white blood counts. Anyway, I'm hardly ever sick, so there must be some benefit.
I spent most of Friday printing, signing, scanning and returning papers for purchasing our home in Franklin. There came a point after 45 minutes of trying to remind the computer and scanner/printer that they were supposed to be friends and talk to each other, rebooting several times with no success, that I laid my head down on the table and wanted to cry. It just wasn't working, and I had 17 pages to get back to Bruce. I lifted my head and raised my voice to the Father and said, "You have to fix it - I can't and I don't know what else to do! I need help!" And I clicked on the Import button and the scanner started. He is Lord over even the pathetic technology we have created here, and I am deeply grateful. Then I DID cry, but out of gratitude, not frustration.
Saturday my sister Rosemary came to help - I needed an unbiased opinion on sorting through the toys - and she provided wonderful moral support. Plus, the Scrabble god smiled on me, she picked up an inordinate number of vowels and I got to put the X on a triple letter space, enough to push me over the top for the day. Scrabble, you know, is the Oliver Girls Game.
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