From the Schoolhouse

I went to the principal’s office on Thursday!

It brought back memories of the one time in high school I was summoned by Mr. Travis for misbehaving in Chemistry class.  He stood 5 feet four inches tall.  I was six feet six.  He weighed in at 147 and I was a lean 190.  He wasn’t much into conversation.  He let Betsy do the talking.

Betsy was the two-foot paddle hanging ceremoniously like an Indian scalp on his office wall.  This threesome–Travis, Denny, and Betsy was an unholy trinity rising from the black mist like a tragic scene from Beowulf.

“Did you call her that?” he asked bluntly, getting to the point with ultimate efficiency.

“Yes sir,” I replied.  I  had thought of lying, but that might have angered Betsy even more.

He sauntered over to Betsy and took her off the wall.  She was lacquered to perfection with a few faint blood streaks barely visible in the cracks of the board.  “Bend over.”  He said it matter of factly like he was ordering a Whopper.

I bent over and tried to think of pleasant things like ice cream and swimming on a hot day.

Wham!  Whack!  Whizzle!

I saw stars and then I saw the light. And then it was over before I could say H2O or any other chemistry formula.

(My trip to my current principal’s office was more pleasant.  I merely asked for a week off to lay tile in the bathroom.  She agreed. No Betsy).  

 

From the Pulpit

I was never so glad to be leaving a place as I was the day I walked away from Sardis.  It was a place of death and repugnance.  The best God could utter about them was “You are dead!”  But as often happens, dark days lead on to brighter ones and such was the case here.  The storm clouds of Sardis yielded to the pleasant vistas of Philadelphia about 26 miles to the East.  This church thrived in midst of chaos.  Living on a fault line line prone to endless earthquakes, tremors, and destruction, they nevertheless found a joy and purpose in serving God and remaining faithful.  It was here that the Lord extolled the open door that exemplified this congregation.  Endless possibilities and bright tomorrows lay just beyond the door.  This was the church of dreams, and so I can declare this is the church I most admire.  The Lord had only praise for this congregation.  This will be our church here at Drummondtown.  Each day we will step up the open door and marvel at the vistas before us.

 

From the Pew

They gave me their heart.  I was so touched.

It was the last one,-creme-filled with a white jacket of fairy dust that stuck to my fingers when I touched it.  I had come in late this Sunday morning so they stared at me for a second wondering where I had been. All of the Sunday school classes were gathered for this donut and coffee delight.  I sat right down and caught up on all the talk.  I didn’t eat the heart then.  They boxed it for me.  I took it home.

I wrapped the pastry heart up in a special valentine box and handed it to Alice when I got home later that day.  She hadn’t gone with me to church this Sunday.  Not feeling well.  So naturally, I took advantage of this fact and handed her the “gift.”

“Oh, is that for me?” she asked coughing gently.

“Yes.  I got you something special.”  (I blushed.  She blushed).  It was a sweet moment.

“What is it?” she asked.  (Women are so curious).

“Oh, just a little something I picked up for you at the Onley Pastry Shop.”

She gave me a hug.  (It was going so well).

I unloosed my tie.  She unloosed the ribbon about the box.  I waited for the look.

“Oh,  David,” she gushed,  “a heart pastry.  How sweet.”  I liked the unintended pun.

“I should save it for dinner.” she sighed.  “This was so thoughtful I’m going to fix you anything you want.  Just name it.”

The catfish was seasoned perfectly with a unique Creole concoction and the freshly mashed potatoes made for a wonderful meal.

*Special request of all who attended the morning donut and coffee hour at church–Please forgive me–(Please).

 

From the Construction Zone

Just an update.  I’ve managed to completely obliterate my bathroom, bedroom complex.  I hauled away my old vanity and sink and now I am up to my knees in dust and destruction.  As soon as I learn how to operate my new spray painter that came with a 20-page booklet with small blotchy pictures of how to set the primer to the down position, etc, I will be rolling, (well, actually spraying).

 

From the Emergency Room

Alice broke her foot yesterday.  She needs two months of healing time and almost no walking about.  (I should have saved some of that catfish for later).