Monday has to be my favorite day of the week, unless Sunday beginning at noon counts as a whole day. There's a feeling of accomplishment and fulfillment that comes at this point in the week just before it starts all over again.
I took a vacation week the week before last. That's why I was able to churn out all those Synod posts. I didn't go anywhere. I was just due. No more Lent, no more confirmation. It was time.
Okay, here's the thing about me taking vacation lately. I took a week last October, which was meant to be a General Relaxation Week like this last one. It never really got going because a church member died, so I became involved with everything that went along with that. No problem...I made up the time.
This past January I took a most excellent vacation to New Jersey to see family and spend a few hours in New York City. I was standing in Central Park when I learned that I had another funeral scheduled. I didn't have to cut anything short, I would just be back in time to officiate it.
This most recent vacation week, guess what happened. This time, it was our oldest member...she would have been 102 in July. I would have felt very sorry if I had missed this one. She was one of our saints. Really. Again, I made up the time this past week.
Still...I might develop a complex. For a church this size, it's an unusual thing for member deaths to line up like that. I'd imagine that at bigger churches, that's not so strange. More members, more funerals, and some are bound to come during vacation weeks. Here, we have maybe three a year. Since last October we've had four deaths, three of which have come while I've been on vacation. That's not a very good pace set for this year already, either.
Okay, let's talk about something else. My one cat loves to slip outside whenever the door is open long enough. This morning, he had some pretty big ambitions. He sprinted toward a tree and made it halfway up the trunk before he realized he has no front claws. But he quickly regrouped and raced toward another tree to try again--way too freaking close to the busy county road, I might add--and achieved the same result. It was at that moment that a car raced by, causing his tail to swell to comical proportions as he ran back toward the house to hide in a bush. Mrs. Jeff was able to easily scoop him up and carry him back inside. The real tragedy here is that he's probably already forgotten about the whole thing and will try again later.
The past few years, I've complained about how slow and boring summer is. I no longer feel that way. I welcome the change in pace and the opportunity to do some different things. And I will. Oh yes...I will.