A Tiny Hint Of What She's Like:

Violent storms in the area prohibited me from blog posting this morning. Weather alerts,. tornado watches, and lightening strikes inundated radio and tv news. As the storm swept the South about 20 people died in weather related incidents including eight students when a high school collapsed in Alabama yesterday afternoon and five kids killed when wind blew their school bus off a bridge in Atlanta this morning.

Locally, trees falling on moving cars caused two traffic accidents. Our Main Street Bridge closed because of one of many other accidents in town.

I unplugged the computer because of lightening dangers; don’t trust made-in-China surge protectors.

Beauty, of course, drove to work anyhow.

Even though traffic reports two crashes on route she normally travels.

Me, I slept in.

But she’s dedicated.

Yesterday one of her former bosses from three years ago who now works for an altogether different agency called Ginny for information on how to use a computer system. No one in the new (better paying) office understood the system, but the boss hazarded a guess that Ginny would know.

She did.

During a slack time, Ginny disconnected, re-worked, organized and re-connected the rat’s next of computer wires, chains, cables, cords and strands of barbed-wire installed by technical support experts between her desk and the wall.

As she battled the tangle. her phone rang.

A wrong number… sort of.

It seems the caller was trying to reach a county school board ofice for information about getting help with an autistic child.

Beauty’s office is in no way related to the school system but she looked up the right phone number for the distraught mother.

As Ginny navigated through the consumer-friendly listings of government agencies in the helpful Sanskrit phone directory, the woman began talking.

The troubled, tearful woman unloaded her fears and frustrations, her wariness and pain, her despair and hopelessness as Ginny listened and comforted her.

As the conversation closed, the wrong-number caller said she thought that God must have been operating the telephone switch board which connected her to Ginny’s number.

I suspect so too.

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Just got this e-mail from her a minute ago:

John, Imagine! I saw this when I went outside for a morning smoke! It was sitting on the fence next to the smoking area and kept watch on me as I slowly approached. That darn thing was sitting with its back to me and turned its head 180 degrees to keep watch on me..

A Coopers Hawk