No, that's not a porta-potty in our living room.
My siblings and I celebrated the first of June by swimming in the lake in our backyard. Jeannie, Christine, and John swam in the afternoon (I had a stomachache, probably due to the fact that my breakfast cereal was expired), and John and I swam after dinner. We waited a half hour, do not fear. John and I swam for a good half hour, because he refused to let me get out of the water even though I insisted that it was COLD in there. Evidently I am more out of shape than I thought I was, because it took about five minutes to get my wind back.
ALSO, I cleaned and completely reorganized the downstairs bathroom, which made me feel very accomplished. I washed the inside and outside of the cabinets, and reworked all the medicine placement. Then I got to give a tour of the bathroom to the rest of my family. My mom was pleased. I am going to be SUCH the good housekeeper when I have a house of my own.
You know how some people have these pacts that if they aren't married when they are 30, they'll marry their best friend? Yeah, if I'm not married when I'm 30, I think I'll be a nun. (God is my best friend, though in a different way from my human best friend. I don't think I could marry Lisa anyway. Somehow, I don't think she'll every swing my way.)
Sunday was the Feast of Corpus Christi (I cannot BELIEVE I missed Pentecost! GARGH!), and we had this really old school priest come in and give a homily about how you aren't supposed to like church because the point was that church is a perfect sacrifice to God. He had some good points, but I think church can be a really beautiful thing too. I come for everything about church. I come to smile into the flowers before the altar. I come to watch the stained glass shine yellow and red on the mothers' hair in front of me. I come to hear Mary Wila's voice, both directed and full, like spears of sunlight tossed through clouds. I come to kneel on the individual kneelers that only the people who sit in the wings like we do get to sit on. I come to glance oh-so-surreptitiously at the students I taught last summer. I come to watch my brother pay attention and actually understand part of the Mass every so often. I come to hear the math teacher lector read from the lectionary in his booming voice so authoritatively that you must listen with rapt attention. I come because the prayer of the faithful makes my prayers worthwhile, raising five hundred counts of Lord Hear Our Prayer up through the vaulted ceilings to the ears of God. I come to pass the peace to the adorable boy I have known since I was five, and to the three year old boy who sits in front of me, and all the members of my family, even if I have to practically fall on top of Jeannie in order to reach my dad's hand to shake it. I come to recite the Lord's Prayer, as I hold my palms up, one in the air, one on top of John's, collecting the energy of the voices and sending it forth, sparks along with words, to the one who gave the best prayer of all. Those who say they aren't getting anything out of church are not paying attention.
* * *
I have finally returned to work, which I think is fabulous. Yesterday I went to Assumption and air-layered Dracaena plants, and repotted Coleus, and did exciting stuff like that. They have anole lizards there again, which means Liz might have pets again. There are a zillion people working there, including Jill and Christine of course. There are four others, including a very sweet girl named Carrie and a very attractive Italian kid named Anthony.
Everyone at Mrs. Mack's is happy to see me (customers and employees alike), even though they are overstaffed. I'm more experienced than a lot of the people there. So I will probably work four days there and two days at Assumption. Things work out better when I don't stay in one place for too long. The breakfast club is glad to have service again. I grinned like a Cheshire cat all day. Eeee! I love waitressing.
In other news, poison ivy, raspberry bushes, and oregano are unstoppable, my parents are on a container spree, and my brother doesn't have strep throat.
ALSO, I cleaned and completely reorganized the downstairs bathroom, which made me feel very accomplished. I washed the inside and outside of the cabinets, and reworked all the medicine placement. Then I got to give a tour of the bathroom to the rest of my family. My mom was pleased. I am going to be SUCH the good housekeeper when I have a house of my own.
You know how some people have these pacts that if they aren't married when they are 30, they'll marry their best friend? Yeah, if I'm not married when I'm 30, I think I'll be a nun. (God is my best friend, though in a different way from my human best friend. I don't think I could marry Lisa anyway. Somehow, I don't think she'll every swing my way.)
Sunday was the Feast of Corpus Christi (I cannot BELIEVE I missed Pentecost! GARGH!), and we had this really old school priest come in and give a homily about how you aren't supposed to like church because the point was that church is a perfect sacrifice to God. He had some good points, but I think church can be a really beautiful thing too. I come for everything about church. I come to smile into the flowers before the altar. I come to watch the stained glass shine yellow and red on the mothers' hair in front of me. I come to hear Mary Wila's voice, both directed and full, like spears of sunlight tossed through clouds. I come to kneel on the individual kneelers that only the people who sit in the wings like we do get to sit on. I come to glance oh-so-surreptitiously at the students I taught last summer. I come to watch my brother pay attention and actually understand part of the Mass every so often. I come to hear the math teacher lector read from the lectionary in his booming voice so authoritatively that you must listen with rapt attention. I come because the prayer of the faithful makes my prayers worthwhile, raising five hundred counts of Lord Hear Our Prayer up through the vaulted ceilings to the ears of God. I come to pass the peace to the adorable boy I have known since I was five, and to the three year old boy who sits in front of me, and all the members of my family, even if I have to practically fall on top of Jeannie in order to reach my dad's hand to shake it. I come to recite the Lord's Prayer, as I hold my palms up, one in the air, one on top of John's, collecting the energy of the voices and sending it forth, sparks along with words, to the one who gave the best prayer of all. Those who say they aren't getting anything out of church are not paying attention.
* * *
I have finally returned to work, which I think is fabulous. Yesterday I went to Assumption and air-layered Dracaena plants, and repotted Coleus, and did exciting stuff like that. They have anole lizards there again, which means Liz might have pets again. There are a zillion people working there, including Jill and Christine of course. There are four others, including a very sweet girl named Carrie and a very attractive Italian kid named Anthony.
Everyone at Mrs. Mack's is happy to see me (customers and employees alike), even though they are overstaffed. I'm more experienced than a lot of the people there. So I will probably work four days there and two days at Assumption. Things work out better when I don't stay in one place for too long. The breakfast club is glad to have service again. I grinned like a Cheshire cat all day. Eeee! I love waitressing.
In other news, poison ivy, raspberry bushes, and oregano are unstoppable, my parents are on a container spree, and my brother doesn't have strep throat.