I Said the "P" Word.

I’ve done it before, and I didn’t learn the lesson. So I did it again. I prayed for patience. I need to learn it. I’d like to not be thrown off-course by life’s curve balls. I want to be a better person. I’m pretty sure this is why my life looks like a country song.

Two weeks ago, we got a letter from our homeowner’s insurance company saying they were going to cancel us if we don’t put on a new roof. We hired a roofer, but they can’t come until close to the deadline, and we’ve got rain in the forecast for this week. Patience.

Last Sunday, a tree came down on a power line up the road. The resultant power surges blew several lightbulbs and may have played Grim Reaper for our refrigerator. Lots of fun dilemmas. Patience.

Monday, I went to purchase the new refrigerator. Patience.

Over the following few days, we lost power in storms several times. No big deal. All of our food is in coolers already. Patience.

Thursday night, a tree fell on the line at the top of the driveway, and it took eight hot, muggy hours to get power restored. Patience.

Friday morning, we noticed the power company had not actually removed the tree when they restored power. And the tree was smoking. SMOKING!  Patience.

Four hours later, power was lost again. It’s not nearly as hot today as it has been. Patience.

I call the power company and beg them to turn the power off until someone can get it fixed. Patience. And fire extinguishers.

Six hours later, the tree finally burst into flames. We couldn’t take a hose to it because the tree was electrified by the power line. The power company representative said “We’ll send someone.” Patience. Is there a liquor called “patience?” Please say yes.

Two hours and two explosions later (not kidding. Big booms, large flashes of light, at least one pair of soiled underwear. Not saying whose.), a utilities truck pulls up. It takes him a further two hours to remove the tree (breaking our solar light in the process) and restore power because two transformers have blown. I wonder how much damage would have been done if they had just turned off the power to begin with.  Patience. Patience translates in Aramaic as “beating ones fists on ones chest and screaming ‘What the heck?!’ to the heavens while weeping like a baby.”

Sunday afternoon, the phone went out. The tree that took out the power line finally killed the phone, as well. Patience. Even though I have an important phone call to make. And no one I know is actually online to make the call for me.

Monday morning, I tried to get in touch with the phone company via email. Guess what? Can’t. Not unless you have a pass code. Which takes one business day to mail, so the earliest I’ll get it is Tuesday. Or they can  give me the code over the phone. Which is, of course, no longer working. Patience. Maybe they can just send it by psychic vibrations and call it a day.

Monday afternoon my husband emails to tell me that he got in touch with the phone company. They can’t tell us when they’ll get the line repaired (oh, I love secrets!), but they think it will by Friday. Patience. Even though the roofer is supposed to call the day before the crew arrives to make the arrangements.

 

I am determined to get the hang of this patience thing this time around. I’m not sure how much more learning up I can take on the matter.

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