The quality of its museums is often an indication of the health of a town. Little Bisbee sits in a box canyon on top of over 5,000 miles of mine tunnels. We heard that from a tour guide who guided us through Copper Queen Mine, a man who actually worked in the mine before it shut down in the Seventies. He took us through the technical history of tunnel building and ore extraction. As the technology advanced, safety records improved.
Dynamic Woman — Changing Times
Museums curate stories and tell history in interesting ways. On a recent trip to Bisbee, AZ, we found a gem of a museum. The Bisbee Mining and Historical Museum, a Smithsonian affiliate, presents the town’s boom or bust history from multiple points of view: bankers and businessmen; waves of immigrants; engineers and politicians; and consumers like you and me who use products that contain copper, like light switches, on a daily basis.
I saw something new in this week’s study in Ephesians. Being a theater buff, I had to go there. Contrary to popular opinion, creation is not a clock God wound and walked away from to pursue more interesting activities. Creation is a big cast, full-scale production performed before a celestial audience. I draw this analogy from Paul’s prayer for the Ephesians, 3:7-21 (ESV).
Looking for ways to put some happy in your Halloween? Some of the fun fizzles when the children parade out the door into their adult lives, and the grandkids are too far away to tag along after. As the seasons of life change, our celebrations change. I still put out decorations, but our doorbell won’t ring on October 31. Trick-or-treaters don’t come through our community.
Do you suppose there is a connection between the price of eggs and the proliferation of chicken mamas? My daughter-in-law studied up and built a chicken castle for four lucky ladies who pay 120 eggs a month’s rent. My niece recently arrived at my sister’s house for a weekend visit with her five children, a dog, a rat, and a retinue of 17 chickens. The babies were still in the brooder and she couldn’t find a chicken sitter.
My neighbor’s Mexican tile roof shines in bright relief against a darkening sky. Has Old Man Winter cast a glance westward? The temperature has dropped to 66 degrees. I hear you laughing. In Buffalo, New York, rooftops piled six feet high with snow threaten to collapse so I’m not complaining.
© Sydney Avey