If we were having coffee, it definitely would be an afternoon coffee on Sunday, because Saturday was jammed and the whole morning Sunday taken over by church. And I would offer you a sample of the chocolate-stout bundt cake I made yesterday if there were any left, but my Sunday School class ate it. Seven children can put down a serious amount of cake.
I’d confess I have an entire 4 quart container just for baking chocolate. Is that normal? Do we even care if it’s not?
Or what about the tiny Greek spinach quiches? You might enjoy one or three with a cup of coffee.
Alas, all of the baked goods, minus of course Paul’s Quality Control slice of the bundt cake, went to the church Ministry Faire and my Sunday School class.
Chocolate cake has nothing to do with the Good Shepherd, but nonetheless we talked about sheep and shepherds, and listening to the voice of the Good Shepherd, recognizing it from all the other voices competing for our attention. It seemed somehow better to talk about sheep and shepherds over cake, rather than lamb kabobs. Which reminds me of a funny story I would tell you, about a man I worked for once: his name was Omar and he was Muslim. As a small boy growing up in Kuwait, Omar’s father would bring home a lamb at the beginning of Ramadan. Omar and his brother and sister would play with the lamb all during Ramadan until right about the time of Eid, when the lamb would mysteriously disappear.
Eventually Omar and his brother and sister realized the lamb was gone, yet nonetheless present, at those wonderful Eid dinners. He was a good man I enjoyed working for. I wonder if you agree it’s best to work for people with a sense of humor? For me, it’s really a requirement.
And I might tell you about the passive-aggressive lesson on Etiquette I received at the Ministry Faire, about how we’re supposed to be Silent prior to the service. Did I know that, she wondered. Why yes, I do know that, and I also know that by six years old, one’s child should be told to sit down and not wander all over the sanctuary throughout the actual service. Alas, I wasn’t quick enough on my feet to say that, dammit. But the whole thing made my charge at the Ministry Faire, finding ways for newcomers to feel welcome, feel kind of squicky and a whole lot ironic. Maybe you’d have advice on how to make the stone thrown from the window of her glass house sit better with me.
I might beg your indulgence for a big of bragging about how I learned to remove something from a photo in photoshop, and recolor the area so you’d never know a pesky branch was there.
Yup, one minute Mr. Birdy has an unfortunate, blurry erection of a branch distracting us, and the next…. gone. I would tell you I am totally loving my photography classes.
I would tell you I think my upcoming week will be a quieter, slower week, with maybe a nice walk through the local park in support of my Photographing Nature and Landscapes class, and I’m looking forward to it, and also fixing the macro lens on some pretty red clover growing in front of the church.
I hope you’re looking forward to your week, too.