It snowed last night and most of today, and as a result, tout le monde is in a state of uproar. Honestly, you’d think the world is coming to an end.
Somebody called here this morning to ask me if we were having church. “I’m not the one to make that decision. Did you call the Senior Warden?” (Wardens, for you non-Episcopalians, are sort of church officers – Senior Warden and Junior Warden are responsible for business and property matters, respectively.) Well, no, she hadn’t. I called and the SW said Yes, we were having services this morning, so I called her back.
I’m not really sure why this person even bothered to ask, because she apparently had no intention of coming anyway. “Are you going to church?” Of course I am. “Is The Squire going with you?” Do you think he’d let me drive in this mess by myself? Anyway, she gave me some info about a couple of things to be done this morning, which we did see to.
Now, part of the concern about whether or not we were having service was that Fr. B is away this weekend and the supply priest we had lined up had to come from quite a distance. The SW had offered the man the chance to back out gracefully if he desired, but No, all systems were Go. Bless him, the man drove here from the Eastern Shore – in the teeth of the storm!
When we arrived, I stomped the snow off my boots, stuck out my hand and introduced myself. “Ah,” said Fr. Supply, “You are one of the Wardens, then.”
“Um, no sir. Not a warden. I’m just the DEAN. Doing Everything As Needed.” Apparently, somebody had told him I was one of the wardens, and that I would see to it that he had whatever it was he needed this morning.
Good Grief.
thisendoftheswamp 