Bunch n Breeze

They just have a way of bringing it all together....

Christmas Apologies

I feel terribly guilty that I have neglected recording the High, Historical Moments here at The Parson's House in the past couple of weeks.  There have been Many!  Very Many!  But it has all been moving so fast and there has been no time to get it in written form.  I'm going to go back and try to remember all that I can of the High, Historical Moments from the last time I blogged.  It will probably be Sporadic, but at least it will calm my Rattled Spirit to go back and Reflect on what has happened to all my Valuable Time.

But first, I have to get the first of many dozens of cookies in the Oven....

SNOW!

Well, Heavens to Betsy!  It came a snowfall here today the likes of which has not been seen EVER on Christmas Banquet Weekend in this town.  The Homeplace looked like a Christmas Card.

Everybody went Stark Raving Mad!

Happy was running to the Horse's Bridle.

There was much Laughter and Screaming and Jumping Wildly With Abandon.

What in the world is it about Snow that makes everybody act like a Crazy Nut?  People were walking Up and Down the Street shouting Merry Greetings to Complete Strangers.  Laughter was Ringing in Darkest Corners.  Fires were Raging in Fireplaces.  Food was being Consumed like there was no Tomorrow!

If it wasn't Christmas before, it sure is Now!

Happy Thanksgiving Eve Eve

Well, it's 10:11 pm and theparsonshouse is alive and kicking oh yes indeed it is.

The Gentle Golden Retriever is outside barking at a tree and scratching on the door every 5 minutes to be let in the house to join the close bonding she senses inside.

The Schnauzer With Attitude is barking at another tree and hanging on to the tail of the Gentle Golden Retriever.  When the Gentle Golden gets enough, she just sits down.  That's what I'm going to start doing.  Just sitting down when I've had enough.

The Parson's Son is sitting on the couch strumming on his guitar and The Parson's Daughter is across the room making up words to match the music as she goes along.  So far, the sound resembles noise and carries with it quite a bit of angst on the part of the Good Wife.

The Parson Himself is Home.  In the Flesh.  That is Number One on our "We're Thankful For" List.

The Good Wife is trying to have a serious moment of Thanksgiving in and amongst her brood and so poses the question to Her Little Flock:  What is my Sweet Family thankful for tonight?

The Parson's Daughter:  God's Love (She said she's on a kick about that lately), Text Messaging, The Philippines, Rascal Flatts, The Jokes of The Parson's Son, and Smarties.

The Parson's Son:  the Fender Guitar Company, God, (he changed it to God first, then the Fender Guitar Company), his Fender Strat, his bed, his parents ( !! well, my my !!), his sister, his pets, his friends, and his cell phone.

The Parson:  a funny family, 24/7 Fitness Center, every good sermon thought, good friends, email, iphone, Saints 10-0, church being paid for, God, the Good Wife, the Parson's Family, and a good Church also made the List.

The Good Wife:  the Gentle Golden and the Schnauzer with Attitude, the Kids and the Man, the fire, my Kindle, and the new Kitchen Countertops.  Also, the Mac, the Reverend Mother Mom, the Church and the Homeplace.  The Brother and Wife, the fact that tomorrow's meal is already cooked and restored Health.

We all agreed that that is only the tip of a Very Long List and that None of the Things on the List are in the Correct Order.

The Good Wife is NOT thankful for: email, cell phones (for talk usage) or anything to do with numbers and/or mathematics.  She IS thankful for Texting and wishes everyone would communicate that way.  She is NOT thankful for telephones at all, nor is she thankful for Appointment Calendars.  However, she IS thankful for Microwaves and Washing Machines as well as Digital Cameras and iPhoto.  Her Water Filtration Machine also made the list.

More than anything, she is Thankful for This Life God Gave Her as well as the One to Come.  This Life is chaotic, unpredictable, nerve-wracking, Full of Trouble, and Totally Wonderful.  Because the Purpose of This Life lies in the One to Come.  And that fact brings Joy Unspeakable to the Journey.

Happy Thanksgiving Eve Eve from theparsonshouse!

Monday Morning Musings

It's Monday Morning of Thanksgiving Week.

The Parson is, of course, missing from the Homeplace.  He has probably written 3 sermons and fed 234 homeless people since daylight and will appear for Mid-Morning Snack exclaiming with wonder how good it feels to not have anything to do on his day off.

The Parson's Daughter is preparing for school while lamenting about the Unfairness of Colleges not observing the Proper Thanksgiving Holiday by giving the Whole Week off to students.  The Parson's Son is still piled in bed which only adds to the Parson's Daughter's Chagrin.

Another crazy busy week stretches before the Good Wife as far as the Eye can see.  There is some Trepedition as to whether everything on The List will actually be checked off in time.  But there is no Stress involved, only Focused Plowing Ahead.

But First Things First.

The Monday Morning Madness cannot begin until the Thankful List is started and Praised About.  The Thankful List will be added to all week, but only One thing will be posted this Monday Morning.  It is huge and needs to Stand Alone due to the massive amount of Thanks which goes up from The Parson's House quite often concerning it.

Thankful List 

1.  The Good Wife has not had one Migraine since March!

What's on your List?

Bees and Buzzing

The Homeplace has been overtaken by Buzzing Bees and Beyond Busyness!

There are currently 19 Christmas trees inside and 3 outside.  More to come.  The outside looks a bit neglected.

The Parson's Son turns 13 in 3 weeks and the Good Wife has been obsessing over putting his Life Book together.  The deadline for sending it off to be printed is this coming Monday and Various and Sundry Issues have been screaming and battling for the Good Wife's Attention.  She is fighting the urge to Lock all other Voices into a Dark Closet until the Life Book is finished.

Thanksgiving is next week and the Homeplace is quite the Center of all Thankfulness and Hunger.  Someone has to prepare the Turkey and Ham.

The Rite of Passage Party for the Parson's Son is looming closely on the Horizon...2 1/2 weeks to be exact.  Much preparation Beyond the Life Book must still be accomplished.

There is a POA Leadership Connect Party to prepare.

There are Christmas Gifts to be bought for all who Travel in and out of The Homeplace.

It's Christmastime all over the World and High on the List at the Homeplace are presents for Missionaries and Missionary Kids.

There is a Junk Room that must be cleaned out, Dust must be removed from the cracks that has been placed there by the Addition of New Kitchen Countertops (we MUST do that at Holiday Season, not at a slower, more reasonable time of the year), the Jungle in the Back Yard is being Removed by Workers Who Will Not Show Up, and PICTURES ARE EVERYWHERE THAT ARE BEING PUT IN THE LIFE BOOK!

Background Noise includes Chipmunks Singing About Christmas and Dwight Yoakum throwing in his two cents.

In the Middle of it all, the Good Wife smiles a Thankful Smile as she realizes that the Beyond Busyness of Buzzing Bees is a wonderful Blessing of God.

May your Days be Merry and Bright....

Christmas is Here!

Josh Groban has been been sending Holiday warblings through The Parson's House for about 3 weeks now.  He has been replaced occasionally by Celine, Casting Crowns, Selah, James Taylor, and the Chipmunks as they each added their distinct Flavor to the Mirth and Good Cheer that has begun to emerge from the walls and floors of The Homeplace.

Pithy comments filled with Jeer and Carp have been hurled in my direction as knowledge of the Tinselly Tunes has spread.  Growls of displeasure from those who would Rain on my Holiday Parade have caused Confusion in my Heart.

"NO!" they say.  "Christmas Music should never begin until after Thanksgiving.  We have to put up with it long enough as it is."

Excuse me?  Put up with it?  There needs to be a cave for Those People to retreat to during the Season of Festivity and Celebration of our Lord's Birth!

I will continue to Push the Envelope on stretching the Holiday Season with Twinkly Lights, Merry Music, Smiles and Sugar, and Secrets in the Closet for as long as I can possibly stretch it.

This Season, with all it entails, brings a Sense of Security to my Spirit.  It brings a Smile when thinking of a cuddly Baby Saviour.  It brings Hope while planning the Hospitality.  It brings Gladness while purchasing the Gifts.  It brings Laughter with the Lights.  It brings Carols to the Cleaning of the Rafters.

The Music brings Merriment to my Mundane!

I'm putting up my tree tomorrow.

Merry Christmas!

Pray for my Friend

Okay.  I need everybody to pray for my Friend.  The Physical Therapist's Assistant Lady.  She's a dear little woman who has been doing deep heat massages on my injured leg the past six weeks.  She is always quite Opinionated about most everything.  She has it all figured out, even the stuff that hasn't happened yet.

She is very Free with her advice and knowledge.  About everything.  Raising children these days, cooking vs. eating out, Being Responsible, proper Care of a torn calf muscle, and various other sundry issues most of which you have never even heard of.

I am feeling rather Victorious this week because I am finally being able to walk in public without excessive Gawking and Exclamations from people whom I have never met.  For the past 5 weeks, I have walked with a very awkward and pronounced limp and not without quite a bit of Pain involved in the process.

The DOCTOR himself, whom I would imagine has had quite a bit more schooling than the Physical Therapist's Assistant Lady informed me early on that the position of the tear and the muscle involved was going to be most painful when my foot was flat.  Therefore, since the position of the tear meant I could not be fitted for a boot with a raised heel, my most comfortable way of getting from Point A to Point B would be in a raised heel shoe.  So, this I have done.  For the past five weeks.

MUCH to the chagrin of the Physical Therapist's Assistant Lady.  She did not agree with that assessment. And railed Loudly at me every time I went for an appointment until the Physical Therapist told her the doctor himself had told me to do that.

Well, would you just listen to this!  At today's appointment, the Physical Therapist was not in.  One of his substitutes was.  But my Friend, the Physical Therapist's Assistant Lady, was totally there.  Oh yessireeBob.  Never would she be absent from work, not that one!

So in a voice the substitute therapist girl could hear, the PTAL begin telling me that I had my heels on again and that it wasn't going to get well for months on end if I didn't stop wearing them.  I turned to her and very Quietly, very Politely, reminded her that the Doctor Himself had told me wear them.  She said of course he did because I wouldn't be quiet about it and he finally just gave in but it wasn't what he really wanted.

Can you believe that?

I did not respond.  I turned my face away and Prayed an Earnest Prayer for God's Presence to fill me Quickly.

I have six more weeks of therapy left.  So, somebody needs to pray for the Physical Therapist's Assistant Lady.

I am thinking of praying that she would experience something that would help her to better understand the Plight of Future Patients who may experience a torn calf muscle.  (There is nothing which helps one empathize any better than having been there yourself...)  Heretofore I have not prayed that, you understand, I just said I am thinking of praying that...

Better yet, pray for Me.

2009: Elephant Season

At the beginning of 2009, the Parson declared "Elephant Season" for the year.

Now that may sound a little bit Daunting, or a little bit Militant, or a lotta bit Confrontational.

What it has been is very Liberating.  Oh my, yes.

All of us have Elephants in our lives.  And our houses.  And our churches.  And our jobs.  Those big, clumsy, giant Situations that suck all the air out of the room and cause tons of damage to their environment.

It is amazing to me how much we tiptoe around them and try to pretend they are the same size as everything else and spend Large Sections of Time (which are then gone forever) trying to clean up the Messes they create and repair the Breakage they have incurred.

Well, finally, we got tired of them.  So, 2009 = Elephant Season.  We didn't start out deliberately and systematically attacking the Elephants.  We actually told God that He could see them, too, and would He please help us.  If He would kill them, we would cut them in small pieces and remove them.  He said "Okay."

We now have an Elephant Graveyard here at The Homeplace.  It is a delightfully Free and Airy Spot to which we invite all to come.  We also encourage all to create your own.

We even have Eight Weeks Left!

Anjana

I received this in one of those Forwards.  Those dumb emails that everybody hates and we usually delete before we look at it.

Well, The Parson forwarded this one to me from somebody else.  And since he knows my aversion to Forwards, I figured it must be pretty good and I needed to take a look at it.

Well, I immediately just dissolved into a puddle.

Anybody that knows me at all knows how much I love animals.  Any kind, pretty much.  They just have a lot more sense and feelings than Human Beings give them credit for.  And I'm not one to always see a sermon in every bush.  But this one just spoke really loud to me.

This is the story of Anjana.


When hurricane Hannah separated two white tigers from their mother, Anjana came to the rescue.  Anjana, a chimp at TIGERS in South Carolina, became surrogate mom and playmate to the cubs, even helping with bottle feeding, according to The Sun.  But the amazing part is that this is something Anjana does all the time.  She's also helped raise a leopard and lion cubs on several occasions.

What would the world be like if we all felt a sense of responsibility for others less fortunate?

You know.  The 'do unto others as you would have them do unto you' thing.

I think that tiger cub is smiling...

Weekends at the Parson's House

Ahhh...we're coming to the close of another Weekend here at The Parson's House.  The time of the week that the entire nation (and some foreign ones, too) look forward to.  (Other nations don't have a clue what the word 'weekend' means in America.  They are too busy trying to survive every day of the week!  But we talk about that sort of stuff over on questmiles.blogspot.com...not here.)

Methinks that there are those who are curious as to what goes on at The Parson's House on the weekends.  Oh my!  It's a world of swirl, oh yes indeed.

The Parson's Family actually usually gets to have dinner together on Friday night.  Sometimes.  Unless there is an Event.  Then, Saturday morning, the Parson is gone before the rest of the household stumbles to the coffeepot.  He usually calls mid-afternoon to say hello.  Then returns in time to rock back and forth at least two times in his chair before he falls asleep.  The Good Wife smiles and nods as does the Parson's Son.  The Parson's Daughter is nowhere to be found.  The Gentle Golden Retriever looks up once, sleepily.  The Schnauzer With Attitude growls and wiggles a greeting, then runs back to her place of slumber.  They have played away the day and are now dog-tired...

The Good Wife and the Parson's Son do a myriad of activities throughout the day, but none of any consequence, because they feel they shouldn't if the Parson cannot actually be with them.  Which, of course, he never can.  So, there seems as if there needs to be a re-thinking of the Fences on Saturdays.

Sunday morning dawns beautiful.  Raining, cloudy, cold, humid, hot, sunny...Sunday is always a beautiful day at The Parson's House.  Energy, smiles, and goodwill radiate in waves throughout the rooms.  The Parson is not in residence on Sundays, because that's the Big Day.  Church happens.  It's always great, people are always happy, and Nobody ever has a Problem on Sundays.  Lunch is obtained from Wherever It Comes From because most of the time the Parson cannot join the family for lunch.  The Parson's Daughter is nowhere to be found again.  So, the Good Wife and the Parson's Son are nourished by Whatever and move on to their Sabbath Keeping.

The Parson's Family (along with 1500 other people) joins him for Part II on Sunday evening.  Again, it's always Great.  People are Happy.  Everyone is always in agreement with the Pastors as to the Direction the Church is Moving.  Church Ends.  The Parson and the Good Wife deliberate for 15 minutes as to whether Feast A or Feast B will occur.  The Weekend then ends.

Thank God for Monday.

Fall Fires

Well, the First Fire of Fall 09 was built tonight.  The wood was dry, the crackles were crisp and popping, and the flames were bright.

The Parson's Son and the Good Wife visited with Jimmy Stewart and Harvey, his 6'8" white rabbit whilst munching on pizza and soda.  Brother Stewart offered this little Nugget of Wisdom:

"Several years ago, I was offered the choice between being Smart and Pleasant.  Since I had practiced Smart for many years, I chose Pleasant.  I have never regretted it.  And you can quote me on that."


I believe I will, Brother Jim.  I believe I will.

I LAUGH at Routine!

Could the title of my last post have actually been "Routine Returns?" Seriously? Ha! I LAUGH at Routine! Such an idealistic, ridiculous concept. Only those who are Stuck in the Mud operate in a state of Routine.

Routine is a Machine which grinds Life into the ground one slow gear at a time.

Routine is a Plodding Animal which sucks all the Joy from the Spirit and leaves the Face Frozen in Frown.

Routine is a Stealer of Light, draining Color from the Landscape and painting the World in Sepia.

Therefore, we ban Routine from The Parson's House! YES! Routine is not wanted, not tolerated, not allowed.

Give us Chaos. Give us Scurry, Worry, Hustle, Bustle, Shout. Give us Flinging and Flailing. Give us Roadblocks, Obstacles, Challenges.

Give us Junior High Joys. Give us College Crises. Give us Mid-Life Madness.

Give us Weariness. Give us Hunger. Give us Junk Food. Give us Sleeplessness.

But DON'T give us Routine.

For if we were to obtain Routine, we might actually resemble some of the Sane people in the world.

And how Boring would THAT be!!!

Routine returns!

All has been sane at The Parson's House for one solid week!

Angels are singing!

Every member of the Parson's family has been home at night and in town.

Meals have been cooked.

School is in full swing for the Parson's Son. He has begun taking guitar from Teacher #2 AND is continuing with Teacher #1. There is also some father/son bonding going on at the driving range and a new set of starter clubs is decorating the back door entrance to the Homeplace.

College is now a major part of the life of the Parson's Daughter. She is also working at a local boutique and has assumed an active role in POA KIDS.

The Schnauzer with Attitude is firmly ensconced and quite pleased with her position as Director of the Household.

The Gentle Golden Retriever is recovering nicely from the removal of a benign tumor on her side.

The Parson is continuing his quest to Save the World.

And the Good Wife? Well, the Good Wife has quietly assumed a new role as Director of the POA Children's Ministry. There are random and sporadic outbursts of lamentations and Pitiful Poor Me diatribes, but for the most part, the cloak of the meek and gentle spirit is hanging well.

So, carry on, My Readers! God's in His Heaven, the Parson's House is calm and collected, and the Spirit of Good Will is reigning.

For a few minutes, anyway.

The Parson's Daughter Turns 19

July 10, 2009...the memory of a day 19 years ago that wasn't nearly so pleasant during the first part.  Around 5:08 pm, the Parson's Daughter entered the world, however, and the sun came out from behind the clouds.

Nineteen years later.  Kruger Park, South Africa.  The Parson, The Parson's Daughter, The Good Wife, The Parson's Son, Senior Pastor and Pastoress, RD Missionary and Missionary Wife.  Priceless Memories.  The Good Wife is grateful to God for some things she has been allowed to experience.

It just took too long to unwrap the gift...the Final Pic is below...an ostrich egg painted with the Big Five...all of which we saw before 2 pm that day....Buffalo, Rhino, Elephant, Lion, Leopard...and we saw much more than that!  Unforgettable....thanks to all who helped make it such a fun time.

African Adventure

On July 7, 2009, all human members of The Parson's House boarded a Very Long Flight from AEX to Johannesburg, South Africa.  We were going for the first All African Leadership Conference, but found ourselves sidetracked into the Bush for the first 3 days of our trip.            The Parson's Daughter spent her 19th birthday huddled in the Freezing Cold in an open-air jeep bouncing along the remote trails of Kruger Park.  Freezing Cold was not in our initial perception of Africa in July.  But we soon found out that South Africa in July means Winter.  And Winter in South Africa is beyond comprehension.  Especially in an open-air jeep.  The first hours of

 the first morning are shrouded in a blur of icy memories, but about mid-day the weather warmed up, along with our eyesight and camera-clicking fingers.  

We found some amazing sights along the trail.  

This is a memory which all agreed will not be soon forgotten nor equaled....

The Summer No-Cooking Revolution!

Well.

On May 27, 2009, the Good Wife cooked her last meal in the kitchen, washed the dishes, put the dirty dishcloth in the laundry pile, walked out and said, "That's that."  And, as is the custom with her meek, mild-mannered way, the Summer No-Cooking Revolution was birthed.

After agonizing over menus, toiling in the kitchen for hours upon end, creating exotic delicacies upon which her family was to dine (only to have them not show up at all or show up when all was congealed), and getting red, chapped hands due to constant hot dishwater, the Good Wife quietly whispered, "I shall cook no more for the summer."

In the early days, her Family laughed.  The Parson chuckled quietly as he walked into the kitchen to check the stove.  It was cold.

The Parson's Son immediately realized this could be serious, but was quite excited because he thought that a daily McDonald's visit could be in his future.  

The Parson's Daughter just said that she herself would cook so there would be no problem. Then she promptly packed her suitcase and left for camp for three weeks.

However, as the days and weeks wore on with relentless commitment and dedication to the Revolution on the part of the Good Wife, soberness began to creep onto the countenances of the Family.

Grumbling, complaining, and comparison to other wives has swirled in the air of the Parson's House.  

Then, as of today, the Parson's Son has resorted to begging.  

The Good Wife is now in contemplative meditation regarding whether or not the purpose of the Revolution has been accomplished or if she should stick to her guns.

We're out of potato chips....

It's All A Matter of Perspective

Mosquitoes in Paradise

Sad, sad. 

The beginning of this week brought air hanging heavy with strife and contention at The Parson's House.  

The Parson had his nose a bit out of joint and the Parson's Daughter was somewhat disgruntled, both of which caused the Good Wife to feel vocally unsettled and the Parson's Son to have mild heartbreak.  To add to the simmering cauldron, the Schnauzer with Attitude took to yelping loudly and angrily upon being assigned to her cage, the cause of which was her desire to sleep in the bed of the Good Wife (a Great Sin which would bring a tsunami of strife and will not be tolerated).

The result was periods of silence with bursts of very firm, random phrases of intention and purpose from all inhabitants.

This season has passed and all are grateful.  Peace and order is now restored with large servings of love and goodwill all around.

Next?

Celebration 24

Today has been a day of joy and wonder.  The Parson and the Good Wife celebrated 24 years of marital bliss and perfection on this very day!

We went away for a few days to sit by Old Man River and ponder our Past, Present, and Future.  Of course, what is there to ponder when the past has been sheer perfection, the present is absolute joy, and the future holds endless possibilities and the tools to obtain them?!  Being the Good Wife that I am, I felt compelled to point out that there just might be a few Mosquitos in Paradise, but that a little Off would take care of that just fine.  Being the deep man that he is, the Parson got the point almost immediately.  

We both had to wonder if the tornadic activity that came roaring right up the river to our very window on Sunday morning was some sort of subliminal message of some sort from another world.  I took my computer (there wasn't a staff handy) and held it out and commanded "Peace, Be Still!" because I am just a bit tired of all the tornadic activity that has been a part of my life for the past several years.  A little goes a long way in Paradise, and we've had enough, thank you very much but no thank you take it back, please.

As we dodged fallen trees and downed power lines in our idyllic little getaway place, we went back in time to our rehearsal night...the memories of coming out to get in the car and leave and being blocked in by fire trucks that had been called to the house...the firemen lecturing us on what a crime it is to call in a false alarm and we had no clue what was even going on...we found out later...our buddy, RC....

Lots of action through the years, but 24 seems to be a very good number.  We are very happy with it.  

All of which prompted the Good Son to say in a worried manner when we arrived home this afternoon, "There's something that's just WRONG about going away on an anniversary and saying you spent your time planning and getting stuff done and using words like successful and productive...there's something just WRONG about that!"  

We thought that if he was so worried about that part, we wouldn't even mention to him that we spent today walking through the very, very old cemetery outside of town looking for the oldest grave.  I won!  Born: 1773 - Died: 1820...

He would NEVER have understood how that fit in!

The main thought of all this that has arrested me is that 24 + 24 = 48.  Wow.

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Carry on!

Opal Weidner (1920-2009)

She was a gem, Lonnie, Jr. said.  

He was right.

A character...one-of-a-kind...they don't make em like that anymore kind of ladies.  She was 88, but still as cute as a button.  She killed a water moccasin in her yard two weeks ago with a hoe!

I'll miss her Whitman Sampler boxes of chocolate at Christmas.  Along with the note that always accompanied it.  "Dear ones..."  It always began the same way.

Her children are our friends.  Mary Wolfe, Martha Weidner, Garland and Lonnie.  Her grandkids are our friends, too.  Karen Weber, Calvin Jean, and Lisa--The Wolfe Girls...Debbie, Tammie, Bethany, and Stacey--Lonnie and Kevin Weidner--Brad...

Their backyard joined MaMaw and PaPaw Brady's for so many years.  So my memories are so similar to theirs...fish fries after a day on the lake, racing down the driveway down the hill, playing all over the La. Campgrounds, everybody kneeling and praying for as long as it took every night before we all went to bed...

Make sure you give the little dog a good home.   

Covered Up

Well, unfortunately, my Creative Space has been totally covered the past few days.  There are so many things on top of it: fresh dirt from all the new flowers being planted in the front yard, wet dogs running from the wind and rain, noisy children wandering in, out, and around, sadness and death within the congregation, and groceries which must be bought!

I am trying very hard to dig past all of this, because I KNOW there is a Happy Place underneath it all.  The bird bath in the midst of the new purple flowers has given me a small glimpse, so I will press on because it's very possible that the Happy Place lies under the bird bath.  No, wait...that was the gas line and we're thanking the Good Lord that it wasn't punctured in the planting of the new flowers.

There is a strong smell of fertile soil that is also deterring my quest.  The little people who came up my front walk on Saturday to ring my doorbell and tell me about Jesus also became very aware of this and remarked loudly about it. I stood on the closed side of the door and listened as they talked about what was going on in my front yard.

"Looks like somebody's plantin' sumthin!"

"Yep.  Smells like it, too!"

"Shore does!"

"They gon' regret this.  Next time it rains, they gon' be able to smell this all the way down th' street!  Come on.  Let's go.  Ain't nobody home!"

Just for a second I thought maybe I had come closer to my Happy Place than I had thought.

So.  Just thought I would share with all who care that I am continuing in my pursuit.  It's just on hold at the moment, because the groceries that were bought must be cooked before church.  

Missy Pearl

I have a neighbor friend, Missy Pearl, who lives just a couple of blocks away from me and is also the Good Wife of a Parson.  Her home is perfect, also.  

I sometimes go visit her and we sit together and sigh in delight over the perfection of our lives.

We sat the other day upon her patio as the Brown Wren fed her babies who were soon about to fly.  Miss Kitty was wandering back and forth with a watchful eye, so eventually she found her swishy tail locked in the laundry room so that the baby birds could venture forth from the nest in peace.

It didn't happen while I was there (which was quite a long time because we had a lot of perfection to review).

I inquired by email the next morning whether Miss Kitty was still in prison and whether or not the birds had flown.  The story was not pretty.

A trap was set to catch a coon which had been eating Miss Kitty's food.  In the process, a neighbor's cat was caught and was mad as )(*&^^% with words which could not be uttered.  He was gone with lightning speed upon his release and Mr. Coon has yet to make an appearance.  

In all of the hullabaloo, Baby Bird wound up in a crumpled heap upon the patio.  There were no marks upon him...he had evidently tumbled from the nest before he was ready.

This just all wraps up the point quite nicely that the Parson has been repeating over and over and over and over again in the past several days:  "Until the chaos is removed from our homes, we cannot be the families God intended us to be."

Sounds to me like some better coon traps would help the family situation, does it not?  And some better guards for the nest....

My Happy Place

The Good Wife is happy tonight.

It's a beautiful night and the Parson has long been fast asleep.  The Parson's Son is now safely snuggled in his clean bed in his newly cleaned bedroom, listening to the limbs of the pecan tree brush against his second story window.  (Oops--must be a mistake--thought I heard a door quietly close upstairs.  Don't tell me.  Let me dream.  I'm not going to look.  He IS asleep.  He IS.)

Parson's Daughter is still out, but her whereabouts are known as is the Company she is keeping.

The dogs are quietly asleep on their beds and the Good Wife is experiencing the Sweet Sounds of Silence in her Happy Place.  No matter that she can hardly hold her eyes open and her brain turned to mush hours ago.  This is her Creative Space in her Happy Place. Yessirree, indeed it is.

It's only midnight oh three.  I have no idea why all of this now seems so hard...  I know that Sunday comes early and with it comes the Day of Energy, Sensitivity, and Social Awareness. All I wanted was to retreat to the Creative Space in the Happy Place to be able to fire on all cylinders in that great gettin up morning.  

It ain't workin.

Fare thee well.

We're Sad

There are heavy hearts in the Parson's House tonight. 

Jock Scott was too young to leave us. 

The suddenness of his passing has stunned us.

Our prayers for love and comfort are with Cindy and his children tonight as they gather together from around the world. 

We pray the Peace that Passes Understanding will rest among them.

Just Sayin

Meet the Parson's Family

Greetings!

Sorta funny how people view the Parson.  He's either not married at all, or has a family that lives in somber solitude and peachy perfection.

IF he's married, his Good Wife is certainly beautiful.  And calm.  Very calm.  And her house is spotless.

The Daughter is the picture of perfection.  Never makes a mistake, that one.

And the Son is a stalwart soldier who stands tall and never forgets to speak to little old ladies and hold the door open for his elders.

Yep.  That's certainly our House!  

So we're going to let you look in the window every now and then and get a picture of our perfect life...