It seems to me that no matter what goes on for Sunday mornings, the afternoon is a good time for a nap. This morning was a bit more stressful than usual, so sleeping it off for an hour or so was very much appreciated.
Someone asked me about our oldest son. Apparently, the gossip and grapevine don’t work so well for bad news as it does for sad news. He didn’t know that we haven’t heard from the kid since May 2002, the day he left after skipping the ceremony for his college graduation. I tried to speak easy, but the questions kept coming. It seemed like the guy wanted to hear my bad news to forget his own.
The dish racks seemed heavier to lift, even though coffee hour wasn’t as busy as usual. Or maybe my muscles are protesting all the standing I’ve done this week while dealing with apples.
Clean up looked daunting, but I managed to be done in the church kitchen five minutes sooner than last Sunday. A matter of perspective, I guess.
Earlier this week, Husband had used my car to go over to visit Lucas, the middle son. When I got to the car after church, I shuffled around some stuff inside, and found a bicycle lock.
I knew immediately who it belonged to.
When I got home, I called the student house and left a message with a roomie for the kid to call Mom. Then I called his job, but he wasn’t on the schedule today, so I told the girl to give him a message to call Mom. Then I came over and sent off an e-mail and explained.
Meanwhile, Husband was over my shoulder saying the boy will think that somebody was in a bicycle wreck or somebody died or some other tragic event. He couldn’t understand why I was all worked up, that it has been days and the kid probably already took care of his missing lock.
And I didn’t need to be driving over there straightaway, that we will get in contact and then ship it if necessary.
A whole new lock or the price of overnight delivery would not be as expensive as using a tank of gas for the road trip over and back, even in my fuel efficient car.
This is a major reason we are married, so he can keep me from going all crazy, and worrying myself for small stuff.
Then he drove us to Latte Time for sandwiches. While there, we got an earful from the owner about how his workers often get into a panic during a Rush, and how that doesn’t help anybody to get the job done any better.
The two guys compared notes about women going into a tizzy.
Maybe it’s the weather or the moon time as a likely excuse.
Whatever. I feel better after taking a nap.
~~love and Huggs, Diane