That’s as good an
explanation as any for the fact that everything seemed out of whack today. Punxsutawney
Phil did not see his shadow, so it will be an early spring. But wait! We’ve been
having spring for a week or more already, and winter is predicted to return in
full force by Wednesday. I think Punxsutawney Phil needs to reconsider.
Last night I had
the definite impression that we were not going to church this morning, because
Jacob was returning from a church retreat at ten and would be hungry. So I was
totally unprepared when Christian texted at 9:30 to ask if I was going to
church with them. It seems the campers weren’t due back until noon. I can
easily get ready in an hour, except for the problem of washing and drying my
hair. I always let it air dry, don’t like to use a dryer. But I managed. I was
ready on time, and we made it to church with maybe three minutes to spare.
Good service,
loved singing “The everlasting arms.” And to brag on Jordan—she texted the
church Friday to suggest that they abandon the practice of having us meet and
greet and shake hands with those around us at a certain point in the service.
She was concerned, rightly, about flu season. This morning the man in front of
me coughed into his hand and wiped his nose, so I couldn’t focus on the sermon
because I thought he’d want to shake my hand. But when the passing of the peace
came, Reverend Hoke announced that we are doing away with handshakes for the
duration. “Please nod and smile and welcome everyone,” she said, “but no
touching.” I’m not sure if it was Jordan’s message that did the trick or not,
but I’m proud of her for speaking out.
Finding Jacob was
not so easy. It’s a big church, and the parents had no idea where the kids would
be dropped off. We parked in what seemed an advantageous spot and watched, and
the car carrying them arrived about 12:20. But by then, tempers in our car were
a bit testy. We finally got Jacob and his belongings—minus the pillow he took
but someone else apparently picked up—into the car and Christian announced as a
special treat we were taking him to Fred’s for a hamburger (his favorite
place). He announced he’s just had McDonald’s and was not hungry.
We went to Fred’s
anyway and ordered hamburgers. None of us like salad mustard, so we requested
mayo only. And I got salad mustard. Plus it was the first time I’d ever been to
this locally famous hangout—and I wasn’t much impressed. I’ve had better
burgers elsewhere, much better.
Next, we headed to
the nearest grocery for a quick stop. By this point, little things were
irritants—people who crossed the streets too slowly when cars were waiting,
people who were on their phone in parking lots, people in general.
I was glad to get
home to the quiet of my cottage, though even that was not without stress. I
have a spray medicine to put on Sophie’s hot spot twice a day. Good luck with
that. When she sees me with the spray in hand, she slinks away, tail between
her legs. There’s no way I can catch her and tricking her has proved inefficient.
I put the medicine up in the fridge and still spent an hour getting her to come
close enough to let me love her. She spent much of that time giving me baleful
looks that clearly said, “How could you?” My defense: the spray is in no way painful,
but it is cold. Jacob came out and did it, and the worst of it is, she didn’t
shy away from him!
Evening and quiet
and everyone but me is watching the Super Bowl. I like it that way.
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