Trip 24 November 8, 2009 Apalachee River

This was an odd trip.

We started out at 6:12am. The water temperature was 64° and the air temperature was 47°. There was a little wind, but not much.

We were dressed well for the weather and I never once felt cold. I could tell through my clothes that if I could feel the water, I would know it was cold, but I never felt cold myself.

From our last chilly experience, I had added an additional layer, a waterproof rain suit. This kept the chilly water out of my pants and kept me completely dry the whole trip. I also added a pair of gloves so that my hands never felt cold. Temperature did present a problem later on, though.



We put in with plenty of time to see the sunrise, but because of it being so much later in the year, the sun now comes up in a different place and those beautiful "sunrise on the water" pictures just weren't the same.


As we started, I found the gloves made it difficult for me to keep my hands in the proper place on the paddle. My hands kept slipping with each stroke. I had a pair of thin, latex gloves on underneath the cloth gloves and eventually I removed the cloth gloves and just wore the latex gloves in order to keep my hands dry.



We paddled up the river and we both felt as if we were paddling in pudding. For some reason -- perhaps the multitude of layers -- we both felt awkward and out of rhythm with our stroke. It seemed as if it was taking us forever to reach our goal.



At one point, I had to stop and remove the coat to my rain suit. I was becoming too warm. This meant I had to take off my PFD (which sounds easy, but isn't really that easy sitting in a kayak in the middle of a river), remove the coat and then reapply my PFD. That was the first of three stops we would make to disrobe.



We eventually gave up on reaching our goal and settled for a nearer spot to stop, rest and enjoy our thermos of hot chocolate. I was secretly hoping the current we had been battling would push us back toward where the bay meets the river, but the current seemed to be going in all directions at once. After a nice chat and our tummies full of hot chocolate, we headed back.



We stopped once so that Glen could remove his jacket and the second shirt he was wearing and a few minutes later, I stopped to remove the latex gloves and all my shirts except the sleeveless one. The rising sun had made it definitely warmer, even though the water was still very chilly.



Once I was free of the layers on my arms, I felt like I could stroke the paddle the way it was meant to be stroked. The way back still seemed long and I think we were both glad when the put-in came into view.



It was one of the few times I have ever really been glad to come out of the water and pack up the boats. On the way home, Glen was chilled from some water that had leaked into his suit. I, on the other hand, still felt over heated. We played tug-of-war with the controls of the car's air conditioner/heater until our body temperatures became a little closer to each other.



I don't know how long into the fall and winter we will kayak, or at what point we will say the water is just too cold, but I was pleased to know that we could go out and stay dry and warm (and maybe a little too warm) in spite of the cold water and the wind.

A Mother's Heart in War . . . Day Two June 8, 2004

The Friday entries of "The Powder Room" are currently from a journal which I started when we found out our son was going to be deployed with the United States Marine Corps to Iraq. The journal was not written with the intention that it would ever be read by anyone else, much less published in any way. There are feelings in the journal that are deep and true and I wasn't sure at first I wanted to share them. But there are many sons and daughters still serving in our armed forces and I think it might be good to share "a mother's heart" with you what those other mothers may be facing. The entries are shared as a tribute to my son and his service to our country, and to all those sons and daughters who continue to willingly place themselves in harm's way for the protection and preservation of liberty.

Day Two, June 8, 2004

An empty plate and bowl full of lemons.

It was the sign of a man who cares deeply and needs to show it.

Marie had come home this morning and tonight we gathered at the table for dinner. There were five plates. One plate was empty, as was the glass, but beside the plate was a bowl full of sliced lemons. Anyone who knows Noah would recognize that as his plate. The bowl of lemons - the token that we will never forget, never stop praying, never stop counting the 366 day (or so his orders say) until he once again rests his feet under our table.

As I write this, I sit in his room with all his belongings stuffed into his closet as tightly as sardines in a can. I can look up and see his Dress Blues hanging from a hook on the ceiling or his cover on top of the shelves. The room is full of his smell on his clothes. I told Aimee tonight that she could come over anytime, if only to smell his smell on his clothes. . . something another girl would understand.

Then there was the joy of hearing his voice. But I didn't feel like I could talk -- to get too close is only to have to tear oneself away again. But I can pray, and I will pray.

I remember when Noah left for boot camp he asked me to pray for five things for him. I made a bracelet of beads representing those five things so that every time I would see it I would remember to pray. Yesterday, I made another bracelet, again with five parts. My prayers are for strength, endurance, integrity, wisdom and accuracy...and one more...faith.

My bracelet for boot camp lasted until the day we reached Parris Island. I intend this one to last until Noah pulls into our driveway next year. I pray I will be as faithful in supporting him this time as I tried to be during bootcamp. May the Lord show me what to do and when to do it.

Wheels. . .Every Good Gift

Image via Wikipedia

I was watching a car pass by today and the hubcaps caught my eye. As I watched them spin round and round, I thought about the marvel of the wheel. The four wheels of that vehicle allowed a 3,000+ pound car to easily traverse the road.

How many times during my day do I utilize something with wheels? Today at work we had a STAT Cesarean Section. Having to push a 200 pound woman in a 250 pound bed as fast as possible down the hall would be an insurmountable task without those four little wheels. As it was, two nurses were able to get her to the operating room in a matter of seconds.

I use wheels on carts, we have wheels on our garbage can (which thanks to my thoughtful husband I rarely have to even touch). Some people have wheels on their luggage. At work we use small cardboard "wheels" which rotate around to tell us how far along a woman's pregnancy is based on her due date.

Wheels are responsible for bringing everything into the grocery store that we end up bringing home and we bring it all home thanks to the wheels on our car.

I have now completely established the usefulness of wheels. But how many times have I taken the time or effort to thank the Lord for wheels? Here is something that makes my life unbelievably easier and that I use everyday, but I don't think I've ever even thought of being thankful for them to the Person who caused them to be invented.

There are so many more items like that in my life. . .things I have so taken for granted day after day that I can't even pull them to mind now, but for which I know I should be offering thanks to the Lord.

"Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, and cometh down from the Father of lights, with whom is no variableness, neither shadow of turning. " James 1:17


I pray the Lord will open my eyes to see more of the good and perfect gifts He has provided in my life that I can give Him thanks and praise for His wonderful provision.

End of October

There is a song I like which begins:

"End of October,
the sleepy brown woods seem to
nod down their heads to the Winter,"

It is the end of October here, and until this morning, it has not been Winter. Yesterday it was 80° and 94% humidity. But this morning, when I stepped outside to take Sparrow out, the cooler air that had ridden in on the rain (the rain that kept us from kayaking this morning) brushed across my face like a child giving a sweet morning kiss.

The changing of seasons is something that I don't take for granted. Those who know me are aware that I dislike hot weather. I often say that the only good reason for summer is kayaking. Of course, now we have learned how to kayak in cooler temperatures, too, I may have to stop saying that. I love cooler weather. I like it as cold as it gets here along the coast. I would love to see snow, whatever that is. But when the Spring comes, I love to see all the budding plants and the new green show up on the trees.

From the very beginning of the world, the Lord instituted seasons. "And God said, Let there be lights in the firmament of the heaven to divide the day from the night; and let them be for signs, and for seasons, and for days, and years" (Genesis 1:14). Perhaps He knew His creation of man enough to know that we would need change several times a year. Even a continual perfect climate might grow old eventually.

There is so much around us for which to give thanks, and so often that I fail to do so. But today, as I breathe the cool air that feels so much thinner, feels so invigorating, that hints of Winter (even though we know the chances of having an 80° Christmas are pretty good,) I will remember to thank Him who knew from the creation of the world, that I would need autumn winds today.

"For He knoweth our frame; He remembereth that we are dust." (Psalms 103:14)