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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...