Country Mouse and City Mouse and . . . Salamanders

Some of my friends have moved from the city to the country.
I am proud of them.  It has to be a huge adjustment.  I don't know if I could
do the reverse movement from country to town/city.

Never say *never* since we know what often happens when people make
loud proclamations like, "We will never move to a city!  Never!"

Except for about five weeks or so in Fort Wayne, Indiana as a newborn
and then a few months as a toddler in a tiny town in North Dakota I've lived
all my life in the country.

Krysta and I had a teensy tiny experience of lawn care in town the other week.

Who mows the lawn when there's a foreclosure on a property?
The grass keeps growing even if no one is home. 

Ellis has a knack for finding odd jobs to keep his family busy.

On the 16th of June we had buckets of rain.
We found out we needed to mow this neglected lawn on the 17th.
Jorgan was at summer camp so Krysta and I offered to help.
Ellis went home, loaded the walk- behind mower, drove back,
unloaded the mower and went to work.

Krysta and I changed clothes, loaded rakes and shovels and drinking
water and followed.  We had the job of raking up debris, loading up
firewood for camp fires, walking around the house and emptying every
container that was full and overflowing with rain water. 

Ellis had to go do some mechanic work on Evan's car about then.
It wouldn't start.

Krysta and I were going to tackle a pile of rubbish behind the garage.
We moved a tarp that was growing into the ground, then I grabbed a
dust pan that was partly buried.  There was a black, slithery movement
in the hole.

I am happy to say we did not scream . . . I suppose part of the reason was
we remembered - in time - that we were in town and one can't just scream
for no reason in town where there are neighbors on all sides.

One nice neighbor who had loaned us a tool for yanking out small trees
was sitting on her patio enjoying the beautiful evening.  We didn't want to
scare her with shrieks and terrified facial expressions and flying skirts. 

On the whole it seems we handled ourselves in a
calm, cool and collected way.

We moved away from the area to a picnic table in the middle of the
lawn and called Deanne.  We even sat on the bench instead of on top
of the table which would have felt much safer under the circumstances. 

I was pretty sure it wasn't a snake because it looked very much like
a salamander that was in our wood pile once
-- in our basement
-- in the country.

Creepy crawly creatures live anywhere, town or country.

And then there are summer camping trips . . . 

Ellis told us the place where we are thinking of camping this summer has
rattlesnakes.  My mind must be processing this info because soon after that
I had a dream about rattlesnakes.

Do any of you remember that story in the Reader's Digest a few years ago 
where a rattlesnake crawled into an occupied sleeping bag?  This guy woke
up when he felt the snake exiting the warm bag in the morning.  I remember
the artist's picture of that scene.  That's what I dreamed about.

Again, I am happy to report, I didn't scream. 
Instead, I got up and got a drink of water then went back to bed
and told myself, "It's just a dream." 

. . . and fell asleep. 

Miracles still happen and I am thankful.

There's no need to worry about maybe one day
being called to move to a big city.
God will be with us where
ever He asks us to go.