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.

Tuesday, August 17, 2004

OH, yeah. Saturday at the Mall. (And Speedos!)

For those of you who are from other places, the Riverchase Galleria is one of the big draws here in town. Gigantonormous mall built back in the late '80s, with the largest glass skylight in the Western Hemisphere. (Really) Folks even charter buses to go shop there. Which is why I do my best to avoid the place, based upon my longstanding rule never to go to tourist attractions to shop for necessities.

But, as I noted before, it was close and had the stores we needed to visit, so we went ahead and went.

Not too bad of a day, actually. Since it was mid-afternoon, and since there isn't any sort of holiday anytime soon, the crowds were manageable. And, for the most part, so were the kids. We went to Parisian first to see about getting something for Oldest, and while she and Mom and Rebecca shopped, I took Boy and Cat with me upstairs to see about getting some boy's dress pants.

And Catherine was actually very good!

Although I did have to make the sprint to the restroom with her right in the middle of Jonathan trying on a pair of pants. I left him locked in the dressing room. Probably not the smart thing to do, but better than having to wait for him and have to look down and see a puddle forming at the feet of Youngest. That would have been much worse. Found him two pairs of pants, and a couple of jerseys, and a very cool-looking black shirt that made him look like a playah-playah.

The girls finally caught up with us and then Catherine began acting like she normally does; wiffly and whiney. Grr. Finally subdued her with heavy rope and threats, checked out, and went to the next stop, Sears, to look for something Catherine had seen at an entirely different Sears store.

Chasing wild geese is so much fun.

We did find her a few things for church, though, even if we weren't able to find the much-sought-after kewwwwwwwt skurt that was stripedy plaid and had doggies on it. Final stop was Penney's for Rebecca, where we looked for something to fit her but came up mostly empty-handed. She's a hard one to fit--she's at a strange age where nothing on her body is where it's going to wind up, and she is a bit more robustly built than most girls. I would say she's chubby, but it's not so much fat as it is muscle. I know it's frustrating for her, as she's now also hitting that age where boys are interesting to her in a way they haven't been heretofore, so she wants to be cute and feel good about herself.

We finally wrapped up our excursion after a good five hours of looking and trying on, so it was back in the van and off toward home. Supper, baths, bed.

And then Sunday came around.

Up early, get cleaned up and dressed, get everyone else up and dressed, hit the door, make it to church with time to spare for once. Make sure the teachers are all in place, then go to class. We got into a discussion on 1 Corinthians 11, and were going over which parts pertained to cultural differences, and what was the underlying doctrinal principle involved in it all.

Our teacher, a very slight, quiet, owlish, bespectacled fellow asked a somewhat rhetorical question about what effect our manner of dress might have on others who might not be Christians. I think he was expecting more of a response than he got though, and decided to give us an example. "Last night, we were watching the Olympic diving competition, and my wife looked over at me and said, 'You know, sweetheart, you need to get you one of those Speedos.'" Well, that certainly got everyone going. He and his wife are the least likely folks you would ever think of having an exchange like that, and the image of him in a Speedo wasn't something anyone was quite ready for. Gales of laughter ensued, and then he topped it off by asking, "Now, if I showed up in a Speedo this morning, what do you think would be the reaction?" A wag in the audience assured the good brother he would find himself quite alone in such an event. Fun class.

On then to worship, where there was no mention of thin Spandex swimwear, then off to the house for a few hours of downtime folding up the clothes left over from Saturday, then back again early for the big areawide youth get-together. Teenagers from the area all get together once a month at a different congregation, and Sunday was our turn to host them and put some food in them.

Man, those kids can eat. Like a plague of locusts.

Good speaker, though--he spoke at the regular evening worship, then we ate and after supper, he had another hour-long devotional. Most of our regular members went on home after supper, but there was still about half of the building full. And then, time for home.

All in all, a very long and involved weekend. And I haven't even BEGUN to talk about the Olympics!

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