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 31, 2005
Marriage and the Family.
Important stuff, obviously. But by the time I had crawled into bed Friday, the temperature outside had gotten below freezing, and the weather guys were hyperventilating from the heights of Mount Cheaha about the icy death awaiting everyone, so I was kind of figuring we might not be having the first couple of lectures at church on Saturday, considering it was supposed to start at 9:30. So, I might get to sleep in. Maybe.
Got up at 6:00 Saturday, and looked at my handy bedside clock/weather station. 36 degrees. Hmm. Looked outside. Wet. No ice, no icicles. Time to get ready. I got up and showered and got Reba and the rest of the kids except the oldest one up and dressed. We’d decided to let Ashley stay home because she had homework to do, and also because she had been a pill about the very idea of possibly having to sit through something so stupid and meaningless as having a good family life. Off to the other side of the county, with a stop at Sonic for some hi-cal, hi-carb breakfast foods, then a stop at Winn Dixie to pick up some food for lunch, then on to the building.
Along about 9:30, I was about to get embarrassed, because we had so few people there--maybe only about 60 or so, but by the time the second talk started, it had filled out to over a hundred or so.
Good lessons, all. The fellow is a researcher and writer and teaches at down at Faulkner, and has a lot of practical advice. It was kind of funny, but before things got started, our preacher came by where we were sitting and said that the speaker noticed we had some younger kids, and that his second lesson of the morning dealt with stuff about husbands and wives and the need for them to have a good physical relationship. Nothing explicit or anything, but the visiting preacher thought we might need a head’s up, just in case. I told our preacher that it was nice the man warned us, but with four kids, they’ve kind of figured out, at least on some level, that Mommy and Daddy do lots of that physical stuff. And, of course, they are appalled by it.
Lunch, then the last lesson, and then on toward home at 2:00, with the warning from Reba’s mom that we had to IMMEDIATELY come to their house because Reba’s brother was passing through on his way home to New Jersey. Well, we had other things to do. Laundry for one thing, and all that hair cutting for another. Reba had just resigned herself to going home, but since I was driving, I drove to her salon and made her go inside and set up an appointment to get her hair cut and repainted. Back to the house, got Oldest to get cleaned up and dressed, hit the door with her and Tiny Terror and spent a few hours getting them fixed up, then back to the house, more laundry, then Mom gets home and looks spiffy and so I have to practice some of that mushy physical stuff so we’ll both have happiness in our marriage. After she smacks me with a yardstick and tells me to go away, we find out that supper at her Mom’s house won’t be until SEVEN o’clock, so I sent Bec upstairs to get her bath before we go, because, you know, we have like, an hour and a half.
Did you know it takes her an hour and a half and five minutes to get ready?
On over to the in-laws’, catch up with Brother a bit, eat, watch the kids some, ooh and aah over Catherine’s sporty hairdo, go home, finish getting various baths for various kids, do some more laundry, and go to BED! Sweet, precious sleep.
It was at 3:48 Sunday morning, when I awoke in an extreme state of fright and agitation, having remembered that I had forgotten to set the alarm clock. It was church yesterday? Today? Monday? I fumbled around and managed to get it set and just as quickly as I had woke up, I went back to snoring. And then, got up again at 5. ::sigh:: In my excitement, I had inadvertently set the “get up and go to work” alarm in lieu of the “get up and go to church” alarm, the latter giving me an extra hour of sleep. Urgh. I thrashed around a bit, mad that I hadn’t remembered it was Sunday instead of Monday, reset the clock for 6:00, which was STILL too early, turned on the teevee and listened with my eyes closed to the early morning huntin’ an’ fishin’ show on the local NBC station, and then finally decided I needed to get myself up.
Next: Getting myself up.
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