OK, that's how I really feel. I had to check to see if I remembered to put on a (don't look, boys) bra this morning. Truly. I think I'm always trying to remember something - even though I have all kinds of lists. Putting on clothes wasn't on the list though. Oh well, this weekend I'm hanging out with my parents and sister, and that means fun. And Scrabble. Which is fun, too. I'm trying to use up the food in our freezer, so I'm taking a chicken-spinach lasagna and cherry cobbler dessert with the cherries Michael and I picked at the Finleys the day the tornado popped up over the bluff in July. I drove home fast that day.
I want to know why it is that one small overlooked tissue in a sweatshirt pocket produces the equivalent of a shredded bath towel all over the clothes and in the bottom of my washing machine. Maybe it's the same principle as the loaves and fishes. I always wondered how Jesus did that.
Got my tutorial on how to translate and pretend I understand the "Southern" dialect last night at small group, which included the nuances of northern and southern Louisiana, deep South, Northern Florida (a.k.a. New Yorkers) and, of course, Tennessee. They might just be some of the funniest people on the planet. My face still hurts from laughing. Ummm...that was a gift.
No comments:
Post a Comment