“The past beats inside me like a second heart.” ― John Banville

We've really had some rain over the past several days. My guess is that we, just here in our corridor, have received at least 10" or more of rain. It is Monday, May 13, 2019, and we are thanking God there was not more damage than was experienced. And, yes, we've been there and done that with Hurricane Ike, so, we are well aware the hundreds of homes that were flooded is no laughing matter. I did see one fellow's concern posted on Facebook that brought a smile. It went like this. "The power has been off most of the night. We will not be able to make coffee. The wife will wake up. I am very afraid." I can identify with his sentiment. Not regarding my wife since she doesn't drink coffee, but, it hits pretty close at home when I think about me, myself, and I. Last time we lost power for several days immediately following Hurricane Harvey, I was able to use our neighbor's electricity to make coffee. Our son, Jimmy, carried my Keurig over to her house. He would brew me a cup and then microwave it so that it would still be piping hot when he got it back to our house. I was very appreciative of being able to keep my coffee routine going. Speaking of that, I recently made an order for another 180 of the individual serving pods, (comparable to k-cups). I noticed they had delivered the shipment, but, we couldn't find it. I called Community Coffee. You typically get a Cajun or someone with a thick Louisiana accent. They apologized and said they would track it with FedEx. She said when this happens it most likely was dropped off at the wrong address. Really? Mr. Bentley and I mounted a search team and we located a large box sitting at the front door of one of our neighbor's houses. He has been in rehab for many weeks, therefore, I checked the address on the box. It was my coffee. I had this big box of coffee under one arm and the leash in the other hand. Mr. Bentley found a lot of stuff in the neighbor's yard to distract him. I did finally get it to the house and was huffing and puffing. About that time, FedEx called to verify the situation. I told them I was just back from fetching the errant delivery. They were very sorry. I called Community Coffee and told them as well. My point? If the Community Coffee delivery is missing, a house to house search is in order.

I noticed that new little lake the rain gave to us near our house has quite a lot of activity going on. In addition to the ducks who must have thought they had landed in bug paradise, the frogs have also moved in. The other evening they had gathered together for a time of singing. They were very loud. It was quite the serenade. Talk about a cacophony of sound! I do my best to steer Mr. Bentley away from that bog because you just have to know the snakes cannot be far behind. Hopefully, the local fire department who owns that property will have some dirt brought in to fill up the low places. It reminds me of some of those river lakes we used to fish back home. The river would rise and when it receded it would leave a lake behind. This was a regular thing that happened and these left behind lakes even had names. As a kid, I would accompany my uncle who would take his canoe and fish those lakes. They typically had some fat perch in them and it was at one of those river lakes where I saw my first gator out on a log. It wasn't that big but I guess I had not realized they were in our territory at all. That first one was just taking in the sun out on a log and my uncle's philosophy was not to bother them if they weren't bothering you. I will admit that I kept a little closer eye out after seeing that first one. We also saw some huge turtles. My uncle warned me not to mess with them because they can take your finger off. He didn't have to worry about me messing with them or the gators.

Speaking of triggering a memory, the other day I stopped by the store to pick up some fruit. I saw they had a sale on strawberries for 87 cents per carton. I picked up a couple of them. When I got home I popped open one of the cartons and washed off some of the berries and tried them. Something was different about them. They were not sweet-sweet but they had a certain earthy taste. Then it hit me. They tasted like the ones my grandfather raised in his garden each year. The ones I would sneak out to eat when he was not around. I never could completely cover my tracks because he always knew I had been there and he used to tell my mom if she didn't keep me out of the garden we were not going to have anything to eat. That was because I loved eating just about everything out there. I loved the peas when they were young. I would eat them, pod and all. The same with butterbeans and young corn. Now that was a good memory. I do enjoy flashbacks like that. I hope you have some too. They do a body good. Enjoy the rest of your day and may God bless each one. Amen. ....More later.