Sunday, January 27, 2013

If You Ever

Run across this fella on your blog, smile, then use reasonable discourse and slam his butt in the mud.

Much like our friend DaddyBear.

That is all.

Oh, forgot, spread the word.


Bits & Pieces

Our wind chimes are in full song. Our weather has turned with pregnant gray skies filled with dark clouds and the wind has increased and it's slightly cooler.This new weather is a very welcome change.

I mentioned, just a few minutes ago, on Rev. Paul's blog that we have azaleas in bloom which signifies our weather is far too warm for the season. My truck is now painted a sickly green from pine pollen. Young women bandy about in bikinis.

Okay, it isn't all bad.


As I've mentioned in past pieces I seldom attend church with my lovely wife. I've know for a very long time she's felt abandoned on the pew. A few days ago a young minister came into the shop and we had a cup of coffee and as is the way of some clergy he asked if I attended worship services. He didn't flinch at my response.

I refrained, as he was a customer, from asking him to mind his own business; besides he seemed like a nice man. Soon enough he asked the same question of my family. I excused myself and jerked another cup of coffee returned and took a seat alongside and explained my situation. Guess you could say I felt guilty. So be it.

Since he was young and eager I related to him as I have to you, dear reader, and we chatted for several minutes. Long story short I went to church this morning.

She'd left the house for 'Sunday School.' I hadn't yet resolved to a plan of action. I had a coffee, read my morning paper and soon, in my minds eye, pictured my lonely wife pewed in sorrow. I sighed, rose and hit the shower. I selected a wool tie (with a waterfowl pattern if you really need to know) grabbed one of my camelhair sport coats and sent her a text. It read, 'be there soon.'

I parked under an oak and stepped from my truck and slipped a small carry piece on my belt and walked toward the church. Up the steps and there she stood, all smiles. She'd waited. She took my hand and lead me towards the middle of the church. It's a big church. I glanced back at the rear row. I felt vulnerable.

The candles neither flickered nor dimmed.

When the congregation stood for hymns she sang like a angel. Her visage glowed. She was happy and we held hands.

Then, the power failed.

There was a momentary stunned silence before the group in unison continued the song. Afterwards, in the dim light of the stained windows, Sweet Wife turned to me with a look...

I said, "I warned you."