I got an email from a neighbor who is traveling this week to Arizona to visit a retired colleague:
If for some reason I don't make it back my car will be in the long term parking at bwi- license is xxx xxx. 2006 honda accord black
Car keys are on the mirror in the hallway.
You can keep it. Needs an oil change.
My daughter is a funny bird. She was the liturgist again Sunday morning for the 8:30 service, having had fun when she did part of the Youth service in September. This time, she did the whole service, didn't share the duty with any one else. She did great, spoke clearly, didn't rush through the readings. Many people came up to me after the service to tell me how well my daughter had done. I'm sure a lot of people told her the same thing. I asked her if she'd like to do it again. "No." Her point of view is: it's over, don't dwell on the past, just move on. She's uncomfortable with the accolades and doesn't want to be subject to acclamations if she doesn't have to. I wish she could be more graceful in accepting praise. How do I help her with that?
My husband heard the click click click of the starter on the gas stove.
"What are you making?"
I peered around the corner to see a look on his face that was reminiscent of a child given a plate of brussels sprouts.
"I have a hankering for something and I don't know what it's for."
"It's not for spinach, ice cream or cheese cake maybe."
"No, it definitely not for ice cream or cheese cake."
I plop down in my chair in the sewing/computer room.
"Chips and dip?"
"I could have a hankering for chips and dip," I said, paused, then said, "you could pick some up when you go get the girls at 8:00."
"You beat me to the punch."
"Yes I did." He usually gets me to make trips like this.
"I'm already in sweats."
"I have slippers on."
"But you have pants on."
"Yeah, but I'm not wearing a bra."
"If I didn't notice, no one else will".
The chips hit the spot.
And I didn't have to leave the house.