oh the things seen and heard.

4 Mar
Yesterday was a craft day at ROG.  Women came with their boxes of scrapbooking materials and camped out in the fellowship room for the day.  One of the women brought her granddaughter and this particular 9 year old decided she wanted to go to the parsonage to help me let Mabel out at lunch time.  In confident fashion, she strolled about the first floor of the parsonage while I got a treat for Mabel.  You have a big house, she said.  Yes, yes I do.  I made some comment about it being big for just one person – no husband or kids here.  But do you want a husband some time?  You cut to the heart of me, nine-year-old inquisitive little lady.
Today the congregation of Red Oak Grove heard me singing whilst I taught the children [and whole congregation] the Superman table prayer.  During the month of March, we’re focusing on bringing in food for local food shelves and so for children’s sermons, I’m teaching table prayers for them to take home and [hopefully] use.  I’m to the point in my time here when I feel comfortable singing and thus making a fool of myself.  It was enjoyed by all.
Following worship was Bible study and following Bible study was my turn to attend a birthday party for a 90 year old member of the congregation.  It was pizza and cake style party with all around good conversation.  At one point, in the middle of some subject, the 90 year old of honor pointed to me and said, I worry about you!  Erm, excuse me?  Marj does not want me to mow my own lawn.  Proudly I say that’s not because I’m a woman but because she knows I’m busy and – in her words – don’t have time.  Love her.
Paige and I both lamented the loss of our Saturday nights to sermons and early bedtimes so we celebrated Saturday night tonight with a movie and dinner out.  We lost ourselves for an hour and a half in the entertainment and eye candy of This is War and then headed to Perkins because this girl craved french toast of all things.  Perkins doesn’t have just any kind of french toast but oh la la french toast.  When Scott – I’ll call him Scotty – came to take our order, I ordered the french toast.  The oh la la french toast? he asked.  Yes.  I just like to say it.  Oh la la.  Oh Scotty.

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