Mrs. S.

Yesterday morning at church I had the pleasure of meeting Mrs. S. — yet again. Mrs. S. is one of the sweetest ladies I regularly have the opportunity to meet. You see, I get to meet Mrs. S. every several weeks or so. She is a warm hearted saint with thick glasses. She tends to speak a bit too loudly for a private conversation, but then she is not likely to have discussions of a private nature. Our introductions tend to go something like:

Mrs. S.: “What is your name?”
Me: “Jeff”
Mrs. S.: “Are you visiting with us?”
Me: “No, I have been attending regularly for about four years now.”
Mrs. S.: “Well, I’m so glad we’ve finally had the opportunity to meet!”
Me: “Me too, me too!”

I want to hug her, but having just met I don’t want to appear too forward.

Land of Schnitz un Knepp

The Isrealites had their land of milk and honey. The quest for which became quite time consuming. My family and I are about to set out for the land of Schnitz un Knepp. This trek should take us little more than eight hours or so. We head out tomorrow about noon.

This land of which I write still stirs feelings of home for my bride and I. Our children have mostly grown up in NC but, while we have lived here for the best part of the last sixteen years, we’re not inclined to say “y’all” or “cut off” the lights. No, for us it is still “yous” and “outen” the lights. We are seldom “fixin’ to” do anything, but are inclined to suggest we not move on until we are “about done” with the matters at hand.

I don’t know for sure if ‘home’ ever fully relinquishes its hold on a person. I do know that homesickness is a for real sensation. I also know that it is a condition that a dollop of Schmierkase mit Lotwaerick can go far toward healing.

Don’t I Feel Stupid

My son went outside to shoot some hoops, my daughter left with a friend and my bride went up stairs to do what I don’t even remember. The point is I was alone. Well now, where is that basket of leftovers from last night, I ponder. With the stash finally located, I rummage through for something interesting. I find myself deciding on a ‘fun size’ 3 Musketeers. That will do just fine.

What’s this? In bold type right above the 3 Musketeers logo it says “Glow-In-The-Dark”. Now how cool is that. I take a bite and look at the remainder I am left holding. Hmm, perhaps too much light. I go into the powder room, turn off the light and close the door. Still nothing. Then I glance into my other hand — the one with the wrapper…