Anyone who has ever seen my desk, Scott, Ashley, Wendy, others, better sit down and make sure their breathing is regular. I have an announcement of major proportions. Stay calm, now. Okay, everybody, I finally did it. I cleaned my desk. *Loud, shocked gasps from the peanut gallery.* Oh, don’t worry. It wasn’t of my own will. No. What happened was my monitor had just about given up the ghost, like the rest of my computer (If you suddenly don’t hear from me for a long period of time it will be because my computer died) so I borrowed one from Ben. Of course seeing the beautiful, adorable, intelligent, wonderful, sweet-when-she-wants-to-be, darling, five pound twelve ounce (exactly four pounds over her birth weight) Savannah Melody had nothing to do with my going over there.
I brought the monitor home, an elderly IBM 9527 which weighs a mere 5,497 pounds (well it feels like it) and proceeded to remove the old one. As I started to set the “new” monitor on the desk, I had to scoot some of the junk and dust that had accumulated behind there to make room. Well just then Margaret walked around the corner and I began the process of settling the behemoth.
“You’re not going to just set that thing on there like that, are you?”
“But this is the perfect opportunity to clean your desk.”
“Oh, I didn’t have any intention of doing that, I was just scooting some of this stuff out of the way…”
“Set that on the couch for a minute.”
“Set that thing on the couch. The dust back here is so thick you can write your name in it. And what is all that stuff back there?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Just some stuff. Look, I’ve got to…”
“Set that down and sit right here.”
“Here, sit there and go through this pile of stuff while I see what I can do here. When you get done with that pile, let me know so I can give you more.”
For those of you who don’t know Margaret, she likes things clean. She has her certain way things ought to be done in her domain. She likes things clean and neat and orderly and it makes for a nice environment, but usually it’s the kids that are her vict…er, the objects of her attention that way. Anyway, it is clean and neat and I have every intention of keeping it like this. It really is a nice piece of furniture, solid oak roll top desk, which I now can close!
Savannah went to church for the first time and even though it was said over and over (I was in Sunday School so I don’t know if there was an announcement, except of course for Pastor “Poppy” J welcoming her as a first-time visitor) that she has a low immune system and would you please refrain from touching her, there was at least one person that should have known better that just could not get it. Oh well. For the most part things went very well and she was, of course, very popular. It is still amazing that she was only one pound twelve ounces and everyone at church recognizes her as a miracle baby.
Sunday School was fun. I got to beat up Micah. Well, okay, I pretended to. We were talking about the story of the good Samaritan. It is always amazing to me how the religious rulers and leaders were always trying to catch him in his words never realizing that he was The Word. The story of the Good Samaritan was in answer to a lawyer’s trick question attempting to justify himself. There is a lot between the lines on what is going on. The story is typical of today’s headlines, “Gang of thieves robs man of everything, even clothes, and leaves him by roadside for dead.” People go out of there way to help, crossing to the other side of the road until a Samaritan, whom the Jews of the time hated and called and treated like dogs, stopped to help. The lawyer was forced to say something good about a Samaritan, even though he wouldn’t even say the word “Samaritan.”
I am running late this morning since we were out last night until late; I didn’t get up until after 4:00, so I have to get going.
Remember, the Good Book says, “Don’t try to catch the Author in his own words…”
I like comments and try to respond to them all if I can: