there's no place like gnome.

I went at Cabela’s tonight because Mabel needs some sort of boundary control, most likely in the form of pain.  She runs off a lot these days – if I give her the chance – and it’s frustrating.  I say naughty words.  So I talked to Duane a lot about my options at the store.  If I have any further questions, I’m supposed to call and ask for him.  “Just tell me you’re the church lady.  I’ll remember.”

This church lady also got her hair cut in the Cities this evening.  Her name is Tiffany and I think we’re in a [hair dresser – head of hair] relationship now.  She gave me duck clips.  The feelings are obviously real.

Remember how yesterday this church lady received a lawn mower tutorial from Bob?  [It’s a thing.]  Today, I tried to start the mower and it didn’t work.  I feel so incompetent and helpless when it comes to mechanical things.  Read more about the lawnmower and my feelings here.

This church lady got home late from the escapades in the Cities … and the lawn was mowed.  I figure there are a few options behind it –

1. The mower started just fine when Bob stopped by to look at it and then he felt sorry for the pathetic girl who couldn’t do it herself.  If so, I’m embarrassed.  Completely.

2. The mower battery needed jumping.  Bob did so and had to run the engine.  So he mowed.  If so, I feel guilty that he did the whole lawn.

3. Bob mowed and thinks his pastor is a pathetic church lady who can’t start a mower or do anything mechanical.  If so, I feel totally stupid.

The pessimist in me bets on one and three.  Chances of me turning beet red the next time I see Bob?  Very high.  I’ll never live this down.  I feel like I should bake him cookies.  Or use my magic wand to erase his memory of it.  Maybe both.

Yesterday was Maundy Thursday, the first of the three holy days leading to Easter morning and the empty tomb.  It was a day of Maundy mishaps for me.

Let’s start at the beginning.  Mabel, being ridiculous and putting her whole 90 pounds into trying to get out the door first, shoved me and the door yesterday morning.  The door went right over the big toe.  Toe nail bent back.  Ouch.

I go to the office.  As I walk across the parking lot, a mysterious woman wearing bunny ears is going to her car.  [It’s not a joke.  I did, however, figure out who she is – a friend of my admin assistant.  She brought us Easter treats … as an Easter bunny does.]  I polish my Thursday night message, Marilyn and I have coffee, and the Easter bulletins are printed.  Good, productive stuff.

I changed the sign boards at the church – the first time since I arrived seven months ago.  I stare at the south one every time I walk across the parking lot and was so ready for it to not say, “Pray always” about six and a half months ago but never changed it.  I did yesterday … to “God loves his peeps.”  [With a clarifying statement of “his people” to amend the “peeps” for those who do not speak slang fluently, ie most of my congregation.]  [I also try to be as gender neutral as I can while referring to God but, well, God loves God’s peeps just didn’t have the same ring, and writing God loves her peeps might not have gone over so well with my peeps here.]  I changed one side and then went to the other to take down the command to “Be joyful!” [Seriously.  The sign would yell at you to be joyful.  Not a great way to make friends, sign.]  But then I ran out of Ps.  “God loves his … pees?”  We altered an R to a P and all was well with the world.

Then I set to line a bulletin board in the hallway with fabric.  [Why, on the Thursday before Easter, was I worried about a bulletin board?  Because that’s how I work.  I’m most productive at getting weird tasks done when larger ones loom in the near future.]  I tried to look at the back of the board, wondering the best way to cover it.  The large bulletin board fell.  I bled my own blood.  I did consider it a small accomplishment that I didn’t swear when it fell since Marilyn was just across the hall.  Score one for Lindsay.

Communion visit.

Lawn mower tutorial by Bob.  [It’s a thing.]

Lastly, last night was our Maundy Thursday worship service.  It actually was quite awesome.  I’ve been meeting with three fourth graders about communion and last night they had their first communion.  It was so fun to watch them come to the altar rail with their families and to see them as they experienced it for the first time.  We talked about how gathering at the table is important and a gift, and how each of us have a place.

Maundy Thursday service ended with the reading of Psalm 22 and the stripping of the altar.  I read the psalm from the lectern as the altar women stripped [the altar].  I’m standing there, reading, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” leaning on the heels of my shoes, as I normally do and shouldn’t, and suddenly my heel is gone.  First thought in my head is that my heel broke through the lectern platform and there is now a hole in the carpet.  Really, not a rational thought at all but you stand in front of a congregation reading a psalm with a suddenly broken heel and see what comes to your mind.  I realized then that indeed, my heel was broken, but actually, in the middle of reading, tried to bring my foot up so my free hand could check out the damage.  Again, not rational.  But that’s what happened.  The grace given to me was that Maundy Thursday is a service that ends in silence and I didn’t not need to walk out in any hurry or in front of the congregation.  I sat up front until most of them had already filed out.

Then I limped out, a perfect end to a maundy of mishaps.

On my home phone answering machine –

[elderly man’s voice]

Hi Jane.  This is Bigalow.  The Detroit Tigers are playing the Mud Hens in an exposition game and Detroit was winning 8 to 1.

I just wondered how you all were doing.

Okay.  Buh bye.

[distantly, not into the phone] I’m sure I got the right one.

[distantly, not into the phone] I think I had the wrong one …

[… and this isn’t the first time he’s called.  You’d think my machine saying ‘Hey, this is Lindsay’ would give him a hint.]

Live with Kelly [a tv show which somehow gains my attention many mornings, especially if Josh Groban is cohosting – he’s delightful] is in Banff, Alberta, Canada this week.  #jealous.

Then I received in my inbox a groupon getaways email [which I really just ought to unsubscribe from because all I want to do is go on every single one of their getaways].  There was a Canadian Rockies 11-day tour.  #sigh.

I want to go back to there.

Canadian Rockies – seriously breathtaking.  Banff – seriously touristy and expensive but fun for a day.  I looked into staying in/near Banff on my trans-Canadian excursion to Alaska this past summer and that was a no-go.  [To say it’s expensive is the understatement of the year.]  But oh – to have the time to go hiking and canoeing and exploring in the Canadian Rockies?  I want.

Oh, how I want to go again.  Oh, how I want to go anywhere.  Let’s face it – how much of this is wanting to go to Banff because it’s all up in my face this week?  OR how much of this is wanting to simply get on a plane and escape the chaos and crazy of church in holy week?

I’m going to go with a whole lot of one and a whole lot of the other.

Last night was part two of first communion instruction.  We ate together with their families, baked communion bread, and played a first communion game show to test their knowledge [kids vs. parents]. These kids are great – seriously great.  I wish my job was to work with them all the time!

Mickey Mouse ears?

A medieval torture device?

Finger snatchers?

Punishment for when Mabel misbehaves?

It’s an egg topper and when I saw it at Crate and Barrel yesterday, I knew I needed it.  [Needed being the word naturally in question.]  What do I need it for?

You’ll see.

I love happy tape.  It makes me happy.

Funny how that works.

If you’re a long time blog reader here, I’ve written love letters to happy tape before.  Happy tape on my laptop keyboard.  Happy tape to seal envelopes.  Happy tape wherever regular tape could use a makeover.

The unfortunate truth is that happy tape [japenese washi paper tape] is expensive.  We’re talking at least $3/roll plus shipping.

Enter Target.  [Or as Paige calls it: the bulls-eye bodega.] 

Target has happy tape copy tape in their stationary/office supply aisle.  $4/pack of four.  It seems like good stuff; at least it has the same general impact on my mood.  It makes me happy.  It’s like retail therapy on uppers.