Not in the clamor of the crowded street, not in the shouts and plaudits of the throng, but in ourselves, are triumph and defeat.--Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

REDIRECT ALERT! (Scroll down past this mess if you're trying to read an archived post. Thanks. No, really, thanks.)

Due to my inability to control my temper and complacently accept continued silliness with not-quite-as-reliable-as-it-ought-to-be Blogger/Blogspot, your beloved Possumblog will now waddle across the Information Dirt Road and park its prehensile tail at http://possumblog.mu.nu.

This site will remain in place as a backup in case Munuvia gets hit by a bus or something, but I don't think they have as much trouble with this as some places do. ::cough::blogspot::cough:: So click here and adjust your links. I apologize for the inconvenience, but it's one of those things.

Monday, January 12, 2004

Up early Sunday, doze while listening to the television, shower, shave, brush, get kids up, help Cat get dressed, try to get wife up, fix little girl hair, prepare scrumptious breakfast of something out of a foil packet, answer phone (as noted last week, this is never good---and I was right this time, too. One of Reba’s uncles had to be taken to the hospital for a heart attack--he’s having quintuple bypass right now) load giant stack of Bibles and class materials in van, chase down coats for children, shove everyone out the door and into the van.

Almost immediately have to begin delicate proposition of brokering a cease-fire and enforcing a DMZ in the rear seat. Decide to build concrete wall down center of van.

Get to the church building, manage to get everyone devanned and embuildinged and actually got to sit through an entire class without having to chase after anything or anyone. Good class getting started on the book of Proverbs for the young adults, and for once we had a packed classroom. (Lot of late risers in the group)

On to morning worship, where I noticed a strange odd thing--it seemed that Oldest was separated from her beau of late by another person--a girl person! Oh my. This might be something terrible. Or not.

Come to find out, the young fellow I have spoken of so highly in past entries--the boy who slobbered after Oldest like a whupped puppy, who pledged his undying heart to her--managed to act just like a 14 year old boy. Decided he still had the hots for some other girl, decided to break things off, decided to call around and tell everyone else except Oldest that he was going to be breaking things off before telling her, and then tried to play the “I know you probably think I’m terrible” card.

Oh please. As if. Whatever.

Which is pretty much what she told him. Heh.

As I told Reba, the self-centered and arrogant side of her personality does occasionally stand her in right good stead--although miffed that the boy she had been linked to had acted like a heel and a cad, she was not quite so broken up as he would have liked. In fact, she was rather relieved. Of course, that relief was further helped by yet ANOTHER young man who seems to have fallen for her charms, who told her in no uncertain terms that he was sorry she had been so meanly victimized, and promised to call her with words of consolation. ::sigh:: Such plot twists.

On for some lunch, then on to one of the other local congregations for the big Bible Bowl contest (senior team won, junior team came in a distant fourth), then back to the building for some more testing of some sort, then evening worship, which I spent in the fellowship hall with Catherine trying to explain why it was not a good idea to keep standing up and turning around during services, especially when her top was three inches shy of her belly button, and her skirt was likewise three inches shy the other way. (She wallows around and fidgets a great deal, causing anything she wears to head to the polar regions.)

Home, sandwiches, sign report cards (all good ones this time--mostly As, a few Bs, no Cs), collapse into bed.

And here we are again!

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