Let There Be Light

This blog posting was actually written  about a month ago but I felt such a great urge to share my “tomato story”, this one was pushed to the side.

I love nostalgia and delight often in the items our local paper chooses to print  in their weekly column called Rewrites. The item that caught my eye this morning (9/7) was an article written 125 years ago.

The date of September 3, 1888 was to mark the electrification of Elko. It would be interesting to research how the town folks readied themselves for this lighting up of their lives but it surely ranked up there with future events like the first radio set in town and then the first TV available. Or maybe by that time, new inventions were becoming blasé

I was raised on a farm in the Midwest but my memory as a child always included having electricity in our home—just not inside plumbing—but that’s another story. However, I have friends (yes, they’re still alive) who remember homes without electricity. That meant going to bed at the same time the chickens did or straining your eyes to read by an oil lamp (although I understand Aladdin lamps gave out very good illumination). Moving from that type of existence to electric lights had to have been a life changing experience—one that very few of us can even imagine. I suppose some Elko folk had gas lights so that adds another twist to the change-over to electrification.

A more recent “Rewrite” column mentioned that the last bastion of non-electrified Elko County was hooked into the grid in the 60’s in the settlement called Midas. The last time we were exploring ghost towns, Midas was our destination but there may still be some people in the are—we just didn’t see any sign of them.

If any of you have memories of your family or relatives living with gas light or oil lamps, please share, particularly if there was an air of excitement in a newly electrified home or place of business.

What a Difference A Rain Makes

The title is a “take off” on an old standard and probably makes little sense to any readers who have not lived in the Southwest desert areas. My experience with rain in northeastern Nevada is that it usually arrives in June, we then see little of it the rest of our short summer--and then it snows.

This years has been different with very cold temperatures in June  (I was bemoaning my non-garden in an earlier post) and little moisture. This post will chronicle the continuing saga of “the” tomato plant. Here it is pre-planting.  

As you may remember, “the” tomato plant started out as a “counter” plant bearing  one tomato about the size of a tennis ball and a  smaller one about the size of a golf ball. The larger tomato ripened and graced a Diehl salad one day. After having surmised that the freezing weather was over (by the end of June) I decided to plant "the" plant outside in hopes the golf-ball tomato would show its muscle and grow into something useful.

Three days later the July heatwave hit Elko and we had 7-10 days of temperatures at 101-105 or high 90’s. I finally checked the baby  fruit and discovered its little insides had totally cooked in the heat. Well, I did say it was a non-garden this year.

Have to admit I neglected the plant after that but then discovered that one branch of it seemed to be thriving.  Hoping I’m not sure what, I dumped a bucket of water on it periodically.

Now comes the irony. We had two rains last week and they could actually be measured. They even classified as rainstorms by Midwestern standards. One friend who lives near the foot of the Ruby Mountains (about 20 miles from Elko) said their rain gauge read 2.2 inches. Elko probably didn’t get that much but some storm drains here in town couldn’t handle the sudden rush of water.

 

At any rate, I checked “the” tomato plant  after the rains. Not only had it thrived on all that heavenly water, it now has 8-10 blossoms on it. (Sorry, they're hard to see because the picture was taken by a somewhat blind photographer, but they ARE there.)  

Poor things don’t realize those freezing temperatures are probably on the way again in 3-4 weeks (while I’m gone and can’t cover the plant). If it does live until I return, I will probably re- pot it and return it to the kitchen counter where it started. That way we may have two tomatoes/month through Christmas (or ten at the same time) and I can feel like I have afforded the plant a true "life cycle."

A Child’s Ta-Da

My sons gave me some hilarious memories during their growing up years. A favorite for Jeff was one day when he burst into the kitchen shouting, “Look Mom, I can twirl,” at which point he began to twist his body around in circles attempting to get himself dizzy enough to fall down. I don’t know who was laughing harder at the end of his exhibition—him or me.

For Brian, the topper has to be the time he and Jeff were playing in a mud puddle next to our driveway. Hearing sounds of little boy glee—which almost always means trouble—I went  outside to see what was going on. “See me, Mommy,” gurgled Brian. He was covered head to toe with mud, literally, helped very generously by his brother Jeff. As I recount this, I’m wondering how I ever cleaned him up, but it was probably first by turning a hose on him because he was far too muddy to put in the bathtub.

To quote Sheila Walsh in WHEN A WOMAN TRUSTS GOD, children seem to be born “with a God-given Ta-da inside, confident that everyone in the room will be overjoyed to see them make an entrance.”

Unfortunately, life has ways of erasing that self-assurance and enthusiasm. Fear, depression, shame, lack of self esteem can take over our lives, but we do our best to hide all that and pretend that we “have it all together.” (To any male readers out there, just because I'm referring to a book aimed at women doesn't mean it might not be applicable to you, too.)

Here’s an adult “ta-da.” The good news is that Jesus offers to help us overcome these unhappy emotions. He said “If anyone thirsts, let him come to me and drink. Rivers of living water will brim and spill out of the depths of anyone who believes in me this way.” (John 7:37-3 MSG)  After just finishing a study on Revelation, I was especially struck by the invitation issued in the latter part of verse 17 of chapter 22: “And let him who thirsts come. Whoever desires, let him take the water of life freely.” (NKJV)

Sheila continues. “This isn’t just for those whose children are model students and whose husbands know how to load the dishwasher. …or made good choices up until this very moment. It is an invitation to anyone who has finally come to the place where they are tired of pretending that everything is fine

“It’s scary to come out of hiding if you have lived that way for years…[but] God knows everything about you and loves you [anyway].”  Seems to me that offer is worth taking the risk.