Decision Made, FWIW

We have made as much of a decision as we can at this point. M is going to accept the offer (that hasn’t officially been made yet) from GLC in Ada. That’s the part-time, youth pastor position that is closer to where we are living now, for anyone who is keeping track. We had pretty much made up our minds, but the bishop from EaND called M today to, in essence and much more politely, say poop or get off the pot. They want to give the congregation up north the names of a first-call, fresh-meat couple if we aren’t going to take the calls. And really, we were probably being just over-cautious in not just telling that parish that we are more interested in GLC.

We are at peace with our decision. GLC seems like a really great congregation and they were very excited to show us around last week. I know that God often calls us out of our comfort zones in ministry, but I will admit that I’m really excited for M to get a call in a place that is pretty familiar to me. Plenty of people can knock this part of the country and make fun of those of us who live here, but in my opinion, this is the best place in the world. The people here are great–not perfect, but still great–and there really is no place else that I want to be. The weather has, at the very least, the potential to be exciting in any season. I can’t imagine living in a place that is sunny and 80 degrees every day of the year. I think the threat of crazy weather at the drop of a hat keeps people humble, teaches them to respect nature, and teaches them how to plan ahead. The economy in this region is solid and people are generally hardworking. We may have one of the highest rates of under-employed people in the country, which could stand improving, but it also goes to show that money and high-prestige jobs aren’t the end-all, be-all in life either. There are lots of highly educated people around here who have chosen to stay around here, or to move back, or to move here in the first place, not to chase high-paying and high-power jobs, but to have a good, solid life in a great community.

So there, I’ll get off my North Dakota/Northern Minnesota soap box now. What can I say? I’m proud of where I grew up and I hope that Itty can grow up in the same kind of community.

That being said, that damn river is rising toward its annual crazy-making level again. Several bridges in the F-M area are closed. They are predicting a crest on Monday. But that can change 12 times before then, depending on the weather and all that jazz. It might just be the first of many crests too, as we found out 2 years ago. I might have posted before that it takes a week for the crest to reach the Farm–I was mistaken, it only takes 3-4 days, so if the prediction is right, we’ll get the crest on Thursday or Friday of next week.

The yard and the driveway at the Farm now look like a used farm implement dealer. Atta has moved a good chunk of the machinery out of the farmyard and up to the house, or along the road, or to high-and-dry neighbors’ farmyards. All with no help from his good-for-nothing, drunk of a hired man. Who has yet to show up for work this week. But that’s a-whole-nother series of posts.

To add insult to injury, on top of dealing with rising water, we are also battling some kind of dead and decaying rodent or small animal in the heat runs of the apartment here at the Farm. The ground floor of the house sits on a floating slab, with the heat runs underneath (I think, or maybe in it, but I’m thinking underneath) in a bed of sand. My mom is convinced that the contractor didn’t put down the rodent repelling mesh they are supposed to in construction of this sort. All winter we have been hearing scritching and scratching from the area underneath the bathtub (they also didn’t put an access panel to get at the tub plumbing, which may be a good thing in this case!) and a few times in the past we have had a dead rodent smell from the vents. The last few times the smell wasn’t all that bad and we had the runs cleaned out and the smell went away. This time the smell is overbearing.

I came home from work on Sunday night and I nearly fell over when I walked in to the apartment. M, who has about zero sense of smell, was pretty oblivious. We couldn’t pinpoint the exact location of the smell, other than the bathroom and under the kitchen sink. Atta shut the furnace off, we blocked up all the heat runs with old towels and put space heaters in for heat and the smell is much, much better. The Rat Man (the exterminator that is also a neighbor and who is extremely weird) thinks that it is probably moles, not mice. We figure they got in through rusted spots in the heat runs. Atta has decided that, after the flooding is done and maybe before spring’s work starts, he’ll get the heating guys to come in and put heat runs in the ceiling and then we’ll fill the under-floor runs with quick-crete to end the problem once and for all. I hate rodents.

And now I must go to bed. I have some other thoughts tonight about GMOs and the EPA, but those will have to wait for some time when I’m not so tired. I don’t have the mental or emotional fortitude tonight to go into it.

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