Skip to content
4 weeks ago

1072 words

Photo: Joy is friends who get me. I walked into church on Sunday and a friend handed me a bag right before Coffee Hour with this little buddy in it. I near about cried. My mom has an extensive Black Santa collection, but I haven’t started one of my own at my house. This is the first Black Santa for my little farmhouse and I have a white woman from my little suburban Massachusetts Episcopal church to thank for it. It’s the small things that can make a big difference sometimes. I love this little doll with all my heart. He will guard over my holiday coffee all season long. So, bless you, Dear Friend (you know who you are) and bless this precious doll.

 

I am happy to say that the profile for my church is done. The Vestry is going to meet to night and give it their approval, and then we will be presenting it to the entire congregation on Sunday. It’s the culmination of a good 6 months of work (including the all-parish survey, data analysis, small group meetings, and production of the document). I am feeling drained, but proud. It has been a lot of work, but the product is breathtaking. Really, it’s not mine to claim: I’ve been working with a wonderful woman , our communications director, who is a master at InDesign.

Quick Aside:  if you’ve never done it, try to spend time with a master of something and watch them work. Be it a carpenter or an artist or an engineer or a painter… or a knitter or a chef… whatever. If you have the opportunity to spend time with a person who is truly a master at what they do, I hope you’ll take up the time to sit with them and simply watch in awe. Being in the presence of a person who knows what they are doing is really awesome. I got so much joy from simply watching this woman manipulate this software and create something magnificent from a blank screen. Sometimes, I think we are a society that doesn’t have enough appreciation for people who have mastered their craft, whatever it is. Awe is a nice feeling to have sometimes. It is unselfish and important, it’s non-competitive and yet inspirational.

Anyway, so the Profile is done, which is lovely. I had foam board posters of each page printed for presentation to the parish on Sunday. Those posters were ready today, so I picked them up and got them to church this afternoon, which is a big task crossed off my list.  In the rest of my life, I had a great class yesterday, which I’ll talk more about on Friday. I am prepped for my class tomorrow (which is going to be interrupted by snow), though I need to write a scene for it as an example for my students. I am behind on my NaNoWriMo project, but I have a good direction, which is great. I am prepped for book club, the Scentsy party I’m helping co-host with a friend (on behalf of another mom) has been advertised and I am even prepped for the back-to-back Write-ins I’m hosting on Saturday. I purchased prizes and everything.

Needless to say, I’m busy, but rockin’ it. So when I was at the Paper Store today, purchasing mugs as prizes for the Write-ins, I also bought myself a bar of chocolate.

I feel like I earned a bar of chocolate. It was a lovely wrapped bar of Godiva milk chocolate. I’m usually not a fancy chocolate type, which this isn’t… It’s just straight-up milk chocolate, which I like a lot. My sister is a fancy truffle kind of person and I think that’s weird. Anyway, solid bar of chocolate. 4 squares of goodness. All for Mommy. Hard working Mommy. I was going to save it for savoring while writing this post. My boys are in bed. The Husband is doing Husbandish things. This is my time… my time for my chocolate.

But I can’t find it, Dear Reader. It’s nowhere to be found. The boys didn’t take it and it disappeared before my husband came home. It’s spirited away. It was ripped from this world and taken somewhere else.

I do mean that fully. The spirit of my house took my chocolate. I know this because when I accused it, it tried to drop a wine glass on my head when I opened a cabinet. I told it fine, have my damn chocolate.

Are you staring at your screen with a raised eyebrow, Dear Reader? I’m not crazy. Don’t look at my post like that. Longtime readers know very well that I believe there is a ghost in the house. Aside from the ghost of the house, I believe in spirits in general. I’m not crazy, I just believe in forces beyond what I can see.

And I believe my chocolate is gone. Perhaps as punishment for a house being left so untidy for weeks on end because we’ve been so busy. Perhaps as payment for all the hard work the spirit is doing to keep the boiler running. Or perhaps because the Spirit fancied some chocolate today. Whatever the reason… I’m chocolateless.

I guess I’m writing all this to say: you can be on top of your game and still have no control at all. I think I’m also writing all this because it made me laugh this evening. All the big things are coming together elegantly for me, but there will always be some little thing that is overlooked. I had a head full of thoughts and plans and ideas and they all halted and were replaced with the passionate pursuit of a little bar of chocolate.  Life is whimsy. Life is disappearing chocolate bars.

It is Wednesday and I’m a woman tired to the bone, but feeling accomplished. I’m going to sip this peppermint tea and, for an hour, let myself rest. No crafting, no writing, just sipping tea and letting myself sink down, down into a Wednesday night. When I write to you on Friday, there may well be snow on my lawn. I’m trying not to let that hurt my feelings. I’m sitting here praying with all my might that little boys go to school on time.

May the spirits around you be kind to you this evening, Dear Reader.

I’ll see you Friday for Quiet Thoughts.

 

 

One Reply to “Spirited Away”

  1. I think St. Nick is likely the patron saint of coffee. How else would he ever get HIS to do list done?

    I just remembered he has a wife and elves… Nope, doesn’t change anything. He still has to crisscross the world in one night without missing anyone or mixing up gifts, That is surely a job that requires coffee.

Leave a Reply

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

%d bloggers like this: