Rest Those Weary Bones
I do not understand the fixation the pastor has with making us stand up for long periods, then sit down, then stand up again. I was feeling the effects of my new Blood Pressure meds this morning so I just thought phooey on that and sat through it all. People stared at me a little, but at least I was not falling over into their laps. Once, a few weeks ago, I said "Oh, brother!" a little too loud after a few of these pop up and back down maneuvers, and Lynn, who was sitting in front of me, turned around and said "I heard that!" and laughed. I like her. So after communion, the pastor was just dismissing us when I wondered where my purse was, and realized that I left it in the car. I really have to get a purse that is hot pink or something, because I keep not seeing that black one. I remembered the break-in and theft a few months ago so hurried out of church to check the car, only to be waylaid by the pastor. He tried to shake my hand in his usual bonecrushing way, but I was in a worried hurry so told him I left my purse in the car and had to get it. After that, I came back into the church to pry my husband from the clutches of the EG's, who were discussing business and some tax issue with him. I don't think church is the place for that, but that's just me. Then I exited the church again and told the pastor we should try the goodbye again, and shook hands again, and was pleased that it was a normal handshake, not the kind that makes you sink to your knees while tears run down your cheeks. I was glad that I had not remembered my potential purse catastrophe until 30 seconds before church was over, so my worry time was very short.
Now I am making a pasta salad for a birthday at work tomorrow, then I have to clean the kitchen and go finish off that wallaby. Just doing the sew-up now. It will be good to sit down and rest.