The occasional, often ill-considered thoughts of a Roman Catholic permanent deacon who is ever grateful to God for his existence. Despite the strangeness we encounter in this life, all the suffering we witness and endure, being is good, so good I am sometimes unable to contain my joy. Deo gratias!


Tuesday, September 12, 2017

Back to Normal...Not!

The past few days have been a sort of revelation for me. For once I wasn't running around doing all those things I normally do, because there was no place to do them. Our parish offices were closed, and all parish activities came to a halt as we prepared for, lived through, and cleaned up after Hurricane Irma.

All the meetings I usually attend have been cancelled. Hardly anyone called me about parish or related issues. And the only non-spam emails I received were from family and friends concerned about our well-being. I'll assist at Mass tomorrow morning, but our usual Wednesday Bible Study sessions have both been cancelled, as has our monthly clergy meeting. [Late note: The church is still without power and will, therefore, be closed all day Wednesday.]

Diane and I had also planned to take a day off from our normal Thursday soup kitchen work. A few weeks ago Diane asked her assistant cook to run the show one Thursday each month, thus giving the two of us and our aging bodies an occasional needed rest. This means I won't even have soup kitchen to wear me out this week. I try to keep Friday unencumbered and often use the day to catch up on the work I ignored during the week, Now I'll be idle that day as well.

A few friends have already remarked that it's been quite some time since I posted this much on my blog. Usually I just don't have the time, or at the end of the day I'm simply too tired to sit down and post these trivial thoughts. I admit, I'm enjoying the time off, but am a bit concerned I won't want to crank up the activity level when next week rolls around. There's also the guilt factor, that I should be doing something meaningful and worthwhile. But I've suppressed that by attributing my idleness to an unplanned week-long celebration of my birthday. After all, as I told Diane this morning, "It's not every year I turn 73." And I thank God for that because 73 sounds so very old.
Our Groomer's Vehicles
But some things have returned to normal. Our dog groomer, a nice woman named Leah, arrived this afternoon and parked her pick-up and grooming trailer in front of the house. Her business, "Bark, Bath and Beyond," is wonderful because she comes to us, freeing us from having to drive Maddie to a groomer. Maddie's breed, the Bichon Frise, must be groomed because her hair never stops growing and the poor dog would eventually disappear under a blanket of white, curly hair.
Maddie, after her grooming - Looking Good!
Poor Maddie is not very fond of Leah and considers these sessions akin to torture. Our little dog doesn't even like to be brushed, so I can imagine how she resists all that Leah must do. Whenever Leah arrives at our door, and Maddie sees who has arrived, the little thing make a beeline to another part of the house.
Dear Diane Sweeping Up
As you can see by the first photo above, our palms all survived, as did our large oaks out back. Along with most of our neighbors, I spent the morning raking and bagging, so everything will look pretty and inviting once again. Even Diane, after an appointment at the hair dresser and a session with the physical therapist, helped out.

I'm starting to like this new normal. Perhaps I'll cut back, at least a little, on my work and spend more time with Diane  enjoying God's gifts. 

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