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My Neighbors and the Real Rapture

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I live with my husband in a paid for home. A crappy 1986 doublewide with plumbing issues.  This 2.5 acre property was once a 15 acre three family "compound" later split up and sold. We bought it 2005.

I'm in the middle. My neighbors are Pentacostal. To the right of me and to the left of me. They are the best neighbors I have ever had. Concerned but not nosy. Helpful but not intrusive. But they are Pentcostal. I don't imagine many of you need a detailed description of that particular form of the fantasy.

My West Neighbor is probably the most wise woman I have ever encountered. She is determined that I will rapture with her and my East neighbors.

My East neighbor is mostly away. Gets her conversion vibe on just once in awhile. We were talking outside and she asked me...

"Have you ever wondered why God put you between two Pentacostals? Maybe He's trying to tell you something."

 I was speechless for a bit. Then THIS came blabbing out of my mouth...

 "Have you ever wondered why your god put me in the middle? Maybe he's telling you something"

Oh, it was ON baby. In that kind, easy sort of way we had all come to operate in. Hints at the topic, little comments, you know.

I have a small farm for food production, selling eggs, produce in season and alternative proteins when available. I sell within a black market food community. It works and the farm earns it's keep. Provides a tasty tax deduction too.

Last week I was working in the unexpectedly prolific tomato garden. Working manure in by hand, pulling the weeds that were stupid enought to sprout in my garden. My bare hands were filthy to the wrist with manure, purchased organic as well as the manure from my chickens and rabbits. While working, my West Neighbor walked over for a good chat over the fence. A quaint sort of communication, but I really like 'em. I worked, she talked.

There was a lull in the conversation as we were eating the sweet cherry tomatos right off the vine (organic of course). You just nip the botton with your teeth, salt it and munch away. I keep a small saltshaker in my pocket for just this purpose. She paused between bites and this is what she said...

"God has surely blessed your gardens. Can't you just see the work of His hands?

With my muck coated hands, dirt packed under my nails I held up my hands.

"The only hands I see working in my gardens are these."

Gracefully she changed the subject to the new baby chicks my hens had just hatched. She brought treats for my dog and they were much appreciated by LadyBug.

I am becoming more and more concerned at the power these christians are wielding, I have unearthed my ancient copy of The Handmaids Tale and it is so close to what is occuring now. Sure wish Hollywood would do a good re-make of this, and get it out there. Most folks in America think fundamental Christians are fringe dwellers and will settle down in time. I'm not so sure of that.

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http://www.faithccarr.com

Faith Carr is a 57 year old, retired political activist. Started farming so we can continue to eat as the economic realities set in. When the revolution starts I'll bring the eats.

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"Serve Man!" ...I say: Bon Appetit! ;) by iamjmb on Thursday, Jun 2, 2011 at 12:53:28 PM
Anywhere near Palatka? by Frank Silbermann on Thursday, Jun 2, 2011 at 1:40:11 PM
South of the Waldo flea market and by Faith Carr on Friday, Jun 3, 2011 at 5:18:20 AM
how does your garden grow? by Ned Lud on Friday, Jun 3, 2011 at 5:23:57 AM
Silence by Donald on Friday, Jun 3, 2011 at 10:01:51 AM
An open invitation by Doc "Old Codger" McCoy on Saturday, Jun 4, 2011 at 12:13:30 AM