Just a few things I feel like sharing:
Dear Grandpa Sid [affectionately referred to as geeps or popsicle] had a minor heart attack a couple weeks ago. He is at home and feeling better [from what I’m told]. Hospice care is on call and helping out as needed. Please keep him in your thoughts and prayers.
An article on why it is hard for young adults to make and retain significant friendships. I can relate. [Why Is It Hard to Make Friends Over 30?]
I’m ready for a new quilt project. I’m going to slowly but surely tackle this scrappy one. And a quilt shop is in the plans for tomorrow after the monthly horror of Lindsay attending the local care center board meeting. [danger. danger.]
I’m going home following worship on Sunday. It has been well over half a year since I’ve been home. Over half a year. How can that even be? [oh. that’s right. life is crazy. that’s why.] It’s a trip to see family, see friends, meet a new baby, say farewell to cousin, Connor, as he leaves to study abroad in Ghana, and hang out with as many lovely people as possible. I’m looking forward to it.
In honor of Connor and his departure to study abroad, there is a party on Sunday night. I’ll be the one bringing cakepops that look like the flag of Ghana. The cakes are in the oven right now; wish me luck.
Root veggie chips, delicious as they are, do not constitute a meal. Root veggie chips, delicious as they are, do not constitute a meal. [I need the reminder.] Root veggie chips, delicious as they are, do not constitute a meal.
It’s been a rough week. [see previous post.] With all of the people time from last week, I could go a week and a half in solitude and still not have recovered. Alas, there were members in Rochester I had to visit. I dragged my feet but, truth is, once I was there, in the hospital room, I was glad I had went. One of the people I visited was a dear older woman who was actually our pulpit supply last Sunday while I was gone. She’s done it before many times. Well, she had a minor heart attack Sunday night due to stress. shit. Me, asking her to preach, caused her a portion of that stress and thus indirectly was a cause of her heart attack. She told me not to worry but you know me. I worry and feel terrible. shit. Great job, Pastor Lindsay.
As I left the office to drive to Rochester, administrative assistant Marilyn – dear Marilyn – told me to treat myself. It had been a hard week. Go to Panera, she said. Get good coffee, she suggested. Treat yourself. I did. I went to Trader Joe’s and bought a bottle of $4 wine to which I will now return.
As you were.
there's no place like gnome. 
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