Here I am typing away on a Tuesday and as I was trying to figure out how to dive into this I remembered, “oh yes! The Tuesday Ten! Perfect!”
So I’m a-setting my mind to getting it out and you’ll be amazed by my powers. I’m pushing through, not stopping for ten minutes even as a ten-year-old boy is standing next to me with two fake handguns asking me which one I would want if we were being attacked. Which gun and what add-on, i.e. a silencer, extra-rounds, sight/scope attachment. I’m not sure what to answer, but the best part is we’re having this conversation just on the heels of the two of us downloading some pictures for a poster he’s making on numbats and also while his face his covered with chocolate pudding, leftover from his afternoon snack.
I love life with boys.
In other news, this afternoon I made the one thing I am getting totally butt-whipping good at: roast chicken. I’ve probably written about this before (there she goes again, bragging about her roast chicken skills), but I won’t lie. I’m very happy about how delicious this turns out time and time again. Ina would be proud.
Okay, moving right along…I got back from Boston late Friday night. I always seem to take that last plane into Augusta, we arrive at midnight and I get home around 12:30 or so. It’s always so beautiful flying in at night and I try to figure out where we are as we begin our initial descent and I never can. But it’s still fun. The flight from either Atlanta (as I did this time) or Charlotte (as I also do) is around 30 minutes, take off to touch down, and that gives me just enough time to listen to three songs when we’re at the right cruising altitude. I usually listen to my three favorite Avett Brothers songs before I hear the flight attendant tell us to power down. It’s like a little ritual.
While I was gone last week, Paul got in a wreck and totaled his truck. I’m so glad he’s okay and so are the other people involved, one of whom was my mom’s best friend’s granddaughter and that right there is just life in a small town. The way I found out about the accident (because Paul didn’t want to alarm me) was that I checked my phone after a Gist taping session to see a text from Paul’s sister asking if Paul was okay and did he know who he had hit. And I was like “I don’t know what’s going on!” and proceeded to call my husband and try not to freak out because a) he was obviously fine and b) my make-up would be a MESS and there wasn’t time for an overhaul of my face before the next round of shooting.
Anyway, everyone is fine and we are all mourning the loss of Paul’s truck. Especially Paul. He’s just very, very sad about it (in a relatively healthy, detached way).
The only other thing to report around here is that (I thought this was pretty cool) our bishop came to say a special Mass for the Catholic fellowship of our community. The community is ecumenical but there is a Catholic Fellowship that gets officially recognized by the magesterium of the church, and that group is part of a Catholic fraternity of other Catholic communities from around the world (got that? Sure!). So the bishop said Mass in the school gym and he is a Franciscan (which is only relevant in that he wears Birkenstocks which is tops in my book) and gave a beautiful homily about the importance of respecting life. Also at that Mass (this past Sunday) an Anglican bishop and his wife, members of our community, came into the Catholic church. They were confirmed and received first communion. It was something very special.
Time is up! If you want to join the Tuesday Ten, leave a comment with a link. And for you non-bloggers out there (hello, Stacey!) just take ten minutes to journal — either in your word processor or in a book! Made of paper! And see what you can produce.
Peace out, and lots of love.