Posted in angels

A front yard angel takes a knee

Posted on by William Douthwaite

The front yard angel keeps a silent, steady watch over the house. Day and night, rain or shine, through blistering heat and hurricane winds, this angel’s vigil never fails.

Though the dogs and I often walk by this house, I’ve never met the folks who live here. Do you think there’s a story behind this angel?

  • Scripture reminds us that the Lord “will command his angels concerning you to guard you in all your ways.” Angels are rarely seen, so we may forget about their presence. A small statue can be a powerful reminder of angelic protection. This home doubles down with a security light and camera. You can’t be too careful.
  • It looks like there used to be a tree where this angel sits. Maybe that tree fell and narrowly missed the house. Something knocked out that boarded-up window in the background. Good luck? Coincidence? Or supernatural protection? Never forget the probability of that last one.
  • With eyes closed, head bowed, and hands folded, this angel takes a knee in prayer. The angels of the bible make announcements, fight battles, blow trumpets, and proclaim praises. I don’t remember any who prayed. But they do bow in worship.

I’ve seen many statues of Mary, St. Francis preaching to birds and squirrels, a few lions, and an Easter island guy. But I’m pretty sure this is the only angel I’ve seen in my neighborhood.

I’m glad this statue is here. It reminds me For me of angels in the bible. Like the ones going up and down in Jacob’s dream. Or the angels who saved Daniel by shutting the mouths of lions. Or the angels who proclaimed the birth of Christ to the shepherds. Or the angels sitting at the empty tomb who told the women, “He is not here; he has risen!”

Posted in Stories

“There’s a pig.”

Posted on by William Douthwaite

We decided to take the dogs out on a different route for their daily walk today. A different loop through a nearby neighborhood would give us a new selection of homes and landscaping to check out.

Walking along a busy road on the way to the loop, my wife stopped and said, “There’s a pig.” Her words didn’t immediately register, but I paused to look my left and sure enough, a pig was rooting around in a backyard.

While our city prohibits most farm animals, Vietnamese pot-bellied pigs are classified and allowed as pets. This guy was a big guy, a lot larger than others I’ve seen. He looked happy, but the yard and the house were a mess. Maybe that’s why the city has a lot of rules about animals.

It’s been twenty-eight years since we lived in Iowa. That’s where this city boy learned most of what he knows about farming. In Iowa, drive time radio was all about weather and farm futures. Back then, market-ready pigs grew to 250 pounds in 250 days. Hog farming and pork production was a big deal.

Here in Florida, though, wild hogs are a nuisance and pot-bellied pigs are a novelty and good for a laugh.

Posted in senses

The wind chimes

Posted on by William Douthwaite
Photo by Helen Potter on Unsplash

The wind chimes that hang by our front door are not fancy. Plain metal tubes, all different lengths, hang in a circle. They are silent until a breeze from the northeast moves the striker, filling the air with calm and soothing sounds.

And yet, a breeze from the northeast precedes a storm where we live. Notes from the wind chimes wrap a weather warning in relaxing song.

Some say the sound of carefully crafted wind chimes releases stress and improves sleep. Others say it is nothing more than unwanted, irritating noise pollution. For some they generate a feeling of peace. Others can’t stand them.

When I listen to wind chimes, I hear familiar melodies within the random sounds. We used to ask Siri to play them for us at night. After a while, she wised up and wanted to charge us for the privilege.

Posted in Life, memories

My first grade broken ankle

Posted on by William Douthwaite
Daily writing prompt
Have you ever broken a bone?
View all responses

I don’t have a lot of memories from first grade, but I do remember breaking my ankle at the end of that school year.

Some friends and I were playing on a swing set that included a two person glider. For some reason I put my right foot down as the glider came back, making my foot twist backwards at a painful angle. I hobbled home and my mom, a nurse, looked at the swelling, wasn’t too concerned, and had me put some ice on it.

I went to school the next day and hobbled around as the pain got worse and worse. When I got home, it was more swollen than the day before, so my mom took me to the doctor. This was 1964, so the family doctor was your one stop shop for medical care. The doctor took an x-ray, saw the fracture, and wrapped my ankle up in a heavy plaster cast. For the next four weeks, I hopped around school on crutches as the ankle healed.

Finally, the four weeks were up, and it was time to remove the cast. The doctor used a special circular saw designed to cut only the cast and not the skin beneath. Once he took it off, I remember my right leg floated up as if it were weightless. But just for a moment. Then I was back to normal, assured that an ankle with a healed fracture was stronger than one without.

I found one picture from my dad’s old slides of me in the cast. Looks like I’m having a good time!

Posted in neighbor

A river runs through it

Posted on by William Douthwaite

I’ve been walking by this house every Sunday morning for the past year, watching the river flow from the irrigation system out into the street, filling up the neighbors’ drainage swales.

Along with you, I’ve wondered, “Does anyone live there?” Answer: no. A German woman who used to wander up and down the street in her housecoat died a couple of years ago. I haven’t seen anyone go in or out since then. I haven’t ever seen a car in the driveway, either. But someone cuts the lawn.

Aren’t the neighbors concerned about the weekly flood that runs past their house? Some have called city code enforcement for lesser things. Why not this? It’s never bothered me enough to call.

This woman’s twin sister still lives a few houses up the street. She never drives by? She’s never noticed the water?

I’m assuming they have a well. I could be wrong, but I doubt anyone who pay for city water to run down the street. It’s not cheap.

So it’s a mystery. It has become part of the landscape, along with gaudy lawn ornaments, security system signs, and flags of various nationalities.

Posted in Life

Get the h*** out of here!

Posted on by William Douthwaite

The big dog (Willow the Great Dane) and witnessed a David and Goliath moment on our morning walk yesterday.

All the noise came from a mockingbird (I think) who was annoyed at the red-tailed hawk sitting on top of a utility pole, minding his own business. She squawked, swooped, and circled the hawk as he (or she) sat and scanned the ground for a snake or something else to eat. Like an annoying mosquito, she buzzed his head again and again until he finally gave in, screeched, and flew away. For good measure, the annoying bird gave chase for a few seconds and then flew off.

Maybe the mocking bird was protecting a nest. Maybe it was a territorial thing. Maybe she was picking a fight. Who knows. I found it fascinating that the smaller bird chased off the bird of prey.

We like to root for the underdog, don’t we? There’s something appealing about the long shot. We cheer when the powerful go down. We want Rocky to win.

Oops. I still shop on Amazon. I still go to Walmart. I want to support small, local businesses but succumb to lower prices and free one day shipping. Ugh.

Today, the little guy won. Tomorrow? Who knows.

Posted in Home improvement

Tear it down and start over

Posted on by William Douthwaite

“Did they put the pool in first? I’ve never seen that before.”

“And look, there’s an AC air handler and a paver driveway.”

“Wait a minute. this is where that house was. You know, the one torn up by the tornado.”

I went back through my dog walking photos and found these crazy pics from last fall, when a tornado spun off from some strong thunderstorms last fall. No one was in the yellow house when the twister tore the roof off. It sat there roofless for six months before anything happened.

And then suddenly, one day, it was gone. At a time where lots are cleared and new homes go up every week, this is an unusual sight. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a block home demolished in preparation for new construction. I’ll bet it’s expensive to demo a home, remove the debris, and start over. There was one house around the block that was destroyed in a fire. But they rebuilt it after stripping it down to the block and foundation. Construction is supposed to withstand 150 mph hurricane winds. Clearly you don’t want to mess with a tornado.

I didn’t see any permits, so I don’t know what’s going to happen next. I suppose you would feel secure living in the next house built here. After all, what are the odds of the same home in Florida being hit by a second tornado?

Posted in grandparenting, Life

Mother’s Day preparation

Posted on by William Douthwaite

I spent some time with my nine- and five-year-old grandsons yesterday while my daughter took my wife out for an early Mother’s Day brunch. When they show up at my house, the boys typically chase the dogs around, climb and swing on the play fort, and exercise with all the garage gym equipment. Yesterday the older rode his long board up and down the street while the younger did a few odd jobs to earn a few quarters. But then it was time for the main attraction.

One of my grandfatherly tasks was to get them working on Mother’s Day cards. I printed out a few card templates I found online, got out our bucket of crayons, and announced it was time to get to work.

To my surprise, they dove into the project with passion. They took their time carefully coloring the cards rather than hurried scribbling. Each was proud of his work, showing off color combinations and attention to detail. I enjoyed watching the “I love my mom!” side of the boys that is usually hidden behind a young man’s “What can I climb?” “How can I annoy my brother?” and (while hanging upside down from something) “Look what I can do!”

The five-year-old was filled with pride as he wrote his message inside the card, along with a bonus picture. The older thought, “I need to get her a present.” Boys definitely need a dad, but they sure love their moms!

I got a whole hour of focused worked out of them before they started asking about lunch. That’s impressive.

Posted in Life

“It’s almost the weekend.”

Posted on by William Douthwaite
Photo by Dawn McDonald on Unsplash

Out of the corner of my eye I saw a nip hit the already full trash can next to the gas pump. It was a small bottle of E & J brandy, rather than the popular Fireball or Smirnoff. On the other side of the pump, a young man was lying in the bed of a pickup truck while another filled it with gas.

A voice said, “Good evening, sir.”

“‘Evening.”

I thought he then said, “It’s almost the weekend.” It was a Wednesday evening so I said, “Yup, hump day.”

He was very hard to understand and I thought he repeated, “It’s almost the weekend.” He must have seen the puzzled look on my face and spoke slower, but still slurring his words. After a third try, I finally figured out he was trying to say, “It’s almost Mother’s Day weekend.”

Unsure where the discussion was headed, I said, “My mom died about nineteen years ago.”

“I wish I could talk with you. Mine died a week ago.”

“That must be hard.”

“I was right there with her. A massive heart attack. I’m not sure what to do.”

I said, “I guess you’re not looking forward to this weekend.”

He went on, “Nope. But she was a good Christian woman.”

“It’s sad, but at least you know she’s with the Lord.”

He reached out his hand to shake mine and said, “God bless you, man.”

“God bless.”

And that was it. The pump clicked off and I closed the gas cap. As I drove away I saw three others standing outside the pickup truck. I didn’t catch the license plate, so I don’t know if they were local or passing through Daytona Beach.

Most people at the gas pump do their thing and drive off. Occasionally I’ll have a random conversation. The culture of convenience stores is interesting, including huge cups of coffee, tiny bottles of booze, and plenty of scratch off lottery tickets.