Archive | July, 2018

The Box

19 Jul

Several months ago, my sister’s older son announced his plans to follow in his grandfather’s footsteps, and go to seminary. We are all delighted, and I know Lynn would have been, too. I began to go through the boxes I still have, but a fair number of my dad’s books had been shipped off to Operation Pass Along, in Eureka Springs, Arkansas. Still, I managed to fill a good sized carton, but the one thing I couldn’t find was a packet of my dad’s sermons.

The Senior Warden had told me that after Daddy died, the Diocese sent out supply priests, trying to keep Holy Cross going, but one man in particular was not vey reliable. My dad had kept all of his sermons, carefully filed by scripture reference, and when they didn’t have a priest, Mr. SW would go into the files, pull the appropriate sermon, and do Morning Prayer.

I call the Diocese, but the papers were not in the archives. In absolute desperation, I called the Senior Warden, and he had them!  Insert Gloria here! He promised to send them to me, which he did, bless him.

Now, I realized that even a year’s worth of sermons was going to be a fair sized envelope, but somehow I was not prepared for this box.  It is 12 X 10 X 11, and weighs 22 pounds! Some envelope! There are sermons in there from his time at St. Mark’s, in Roxboro.  He started there in 1984, and the first pages I picked up are from 1985.  I didn’t even try to go through the entire box, but some day, some fine day, we are going to have to get them all scanned and put into some sort of order.

Wish me luck!




Itty-Bitty Black Bugs

7 Jul

Every summer, for about a month, we have an invasion of tiny bugs in the bathroom. Back when we were having so much trouble with ants, we called in an exterminator, and he said nobody had ever figured out where they came from or what to do about them, but since they were not harmful and had such short lifespans it wasn’t something they obsessed over.

Fair enough.

Two of them could probably fit on the head of a pin. It amazes me that something so small could possess a heart, a brain and some sort of navigation system. We find them on the wall, clustered around the nightlight we keep burning 24/7; they used to shelter under the clock radio before that item went to the Great Recycling Bin in the Sky. Now, they crawl around the counter, seemingly aimless, but when they meet, each one swings to the left to avoid a collision, and if I put something in their way – a pencil perhaps – they turn and go back. Do they have eyes? Antennae? Do they feel vibrations? How do they do this? What mysterious errands do they run, scurrying along? There’s nothing there to eat; even the ants have given up on that.

Very mysterious. And I really must  find something to do with my time, other than gawping in amazement at a bunch of BUGS!