Tuesday, June 01, 2004

A Good Tuesday

I've learned to cherish good days. Today was one of them. Not spectacular. Not terribly productive. But a good day.

5:00 a.m. Managed to get to the alarm and shut it off without stubbing my toe or falling on my face. Did not crawl back under the covers and go back to sleep.

5:20 a.m. There was coffee, and cream, and sugar. Things are looking promising already.

5:45 a.m. The Texaco was open, and the attendant was efficient. Back on the road in 6 minutes.

6:10 a.m. Hit the Parkway. Traffic was light. New car comfy. Remembered to set the cruise. 2 tickets in 6 months is already 2 too many. NPR tells me a new president selected for Iraq. Good news! The events in Saudi Arabia lead to tangential reflections about buying a horse.

7:05 a.m. Pull up to the church. Half a dozen cars already in the lot. Chapel already open, candles lit. Assign reader for the commemoration of Justin. Vest. Pray.

7:15 a.m. The Holy Eucharist. 8 present.

8:00 a.m. Breakfast at local cafe. Lively conversation. One of the group recently returned from a trip overseas. Discussion of separation of church and state.

9:00 a.m. Staff meeting. Final approval of wording of a mailing going out and upcoming bulletins.

9:45 a.m. Compiled details of committee being formed, and sent out info.

10:15 a.m. Meeting with lay leader of nearby parish. Discussion of a 90 minute song and dance I offered to the leadership of his parish the previous week. Lovely folks. Discussion of future possibilities. A line on a possible way to be a liaison with this group and a local non-profit. Got to remember to follow up.

11:15 a.m. Three drop-in visits. Pleasant, casual, but still informative and nurturing.

11:45 a.m. Notice a fax sitting on machine. A bid has been accepted to air condition the parish hall. Alleluia! Alleluia! Alleluia! Alleeluuia! Is my enthusiasm showing?

12:00 After making a call, I realized that most likely I'll have to miss this after all. A shame. Howard Dean, John Edwards, James Forbes, Arianna Huffington and Jim Hightower are going to be there. But, I've got a meeting at the diocesan office the same day that it would be prudent not to miss. I'm going to keep my reservation for Washington open, though. It's just for Thursday. I'll make a couple of calls tomorrow, and see if I can come up with some creative compromise other than cloning myself.

12:30 p.m. Lunch at 7-11 on my way to the hospital. Hot dog and coffee. Sound disgusting? How about an all beef hot dog chased by fresh coffee with caramel syrup? You're right. It still sounds disgusting.

1:15 p.m. Brief visit with an elderly member. They wheeled her away for physical therapy. Just saying that makes me go "Ouch!"

1:45 p.m. Visit with another member at a rehab center. Much improvement. We share some laughter, and a prayer.

2:45 p.m. Head back to the Parkway. Longer days ahead this week. Decide to head south before the coming storm hits.

4:00 p.m. Stop to see Jeff the tailor. Yes, I'm actually getting a new suit. I've only got one decent one left, and I've got some important meetings coming up. Sometimes, just showing up is half the trick. And sometimes looking good can be at least another quarter of the deal.

4:30 p.m. Arrive home about same time as Demi. Fierce thunderstorm hits. I watch from the porch. The branches of giant trees dance vigorously on a stage of gray; now white light; now again gray. Crashing cymbals follow close behind. The poor pup in the basement below quietly whimpers.

5:00 p.m. As quickly as it arrived, the storm moves on. The sun reappears. Ornate rain drops decorate the leaves, as precious gems awarded to their host branches for surviving the brutal beating. We walk down the street to Demi's parent's house. Tuesday is cheese steak night!

6:30 p.m. We drive to the store for an odd assortment of things previously forgotten. The franticness of "getting and spending" threatens to rob us of this good day. But not quite. The full moon smiles, and graciously illuminates our path home.

9:00 p.m. Settle in with a new novel, The Heartbreaker by Susan Howatch. She is one of my all time favorites. I love the feel and smell of a new book. Especially one written by a tried and true storyteller;

Part One; Setting Out

Our identity is being forged in the crucible of whatever suffering turns out to be inextricable from the particular journey of each person...into fullness of life.

"Mud and Stars"
A report of a working party consisting mainly of doctors, nurses and clergy
9:45 p.m. Check to see what's going on in Jake's place. Write something, anything, just as long as you keep Jake disciplined about writing every day. And no cheating tonight. No long quotes. Just dull drivel, the kind that makes Jake's heart sing, even if the words have not quite learned how to teach others the tune. Keep writing. Keep singing. Keep dancing.

10:45 p.m. Time to visit the animals before heading for bed.

Yes indeed, a very good day. And now, my imaginary audience, I bid you a very good night.


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