Confession: I’ve been out and about a lot.
Yesterday I realized that I’d been up till midnight three out of the last four nights, deep in laughter and conversation.
I am both exhausted and new-made.
I try not to tell other people’s stories on this blog, but I need to say that the ladies of Catlett VA are delightful. As are the foods they make. And the conversations they initiate.
I do feel a moral obligation to note that if ever you are in the Bristow area, if ever you pass from the parking lot of Choice Books down over the bank for a breath of fresh air and a little solitude, if ever you walk along the river and notice a set of stone steps reaching down to the brink, if ever you walk down them and step onto the last but one—the high one two feet above the water—you will most definitely be going Down. It tipped forward on me and I retreated in panic. The next person to set foot there, barring the mercy of Jesus, will receive a most unavoidable ducking. So sorry about that.
Now I feel much better.
As I came back up I saw a path. And then a No Trespassing sign, fallen over in the snow. So I am probably in danger of incarceration or something but I took the shortcut and didn’t know.
I also ran out of gas in my van Friday morning, high on Hunter Hill. I thought it was having a heart attack or something. I could feel it dying beneath me, losing function and pooping out. I tried checking vital signs, but the readings were not reassuring. I tried administering fluids, but it didn’t help. Twenty seconds later as I came to a complete and helpless stop right there in the roadway, I pulled out my phone and called The Boss.
Honey, something is terribly wrong with the van…
Doesn’t it seem like proof of his goodness (and His) that he was there within minutes, that he found it was not in fact dying but only out of gas, and most of all, that he was able to push it without engine power enough to coast it all the way down the hill and into our very own carport?
This blows my mind.
Plus the kids got to school on time, and I made it out the door for my big trip, and he treated me tenderly and made sure I was okay and never laughed, not once.
I am one lucky kid.