A number of you have called, emailed, or texted me to cut the hole in my wall and install the  door.  A couple of you said, "You are not nuts."  It was all the encouragement I needed.  My carpenter put me on his list.  I'm getting the door.  Thanks to all of you.

I woke up Sunday and my watch was dead.  Dead as a door nail.  The face didn't have anything at all on it--it was milky white.  What time was it!!??  I looked outside to check by where the sun was.  But it was raining and the clouds blocked the sun.  I have no clocks.  I began to look for my phone to check the time--gone.  Becky had brought a ton of fabric over for me to fold and price for an estate sale, and I had spread it out all over the living room floor to sort--so I assumed that my phone was somewhere under the fabric.  And until someone called me, I didn't know where to look.

I went in the kitchen to look at the time on the stove, but the storm had bummed up every electrical device in my house.  The timer said 11:45 and I knew that wasn't right.  I got partially ready for church not knowing what time it was, and finally my brain kicked in and I turned on the TV.  Sure enough, the time was in the corner of the screen.  And found that it was 9:24--to late to make it to church by 9:30.  I finally found my phone.  Plugged into the charger next to my bed.  I always unplug it first thing each morning.  I always carry it with me, then go get the paper and make myself a cup of tea.  I have a "get up" ritual.  So I never looked on the charger.

It reminded me of Ken saying that a pilot would occasionally come in to land with his wheels up because of the list in his head for landing--he was sure he had put his wheels down because he had gone through his check list.  Even when the tower would tell him his wheels were up, the pilot wouldn't believe the tower--but sure enough, he hadn't lowered his wheels.  I hadn't unplugged my phone and carried it with me to get the paper.  I was "wheels up" because of the list in my head.

One of my friends came over the next day and helped me sort, wrap, tag and price the fabric.  It was overwhelming.  The lady was a quilter, I think she must have taught quilting because there were quilted sample blocks of every pattern known to exist.  And finished quilts that needed to have the edges bound.  And a zillion tiny cut pieces ready to be put together.  This estate sale is going to attract every quilter in Oklahoma.