I woke up at 5:15, and got up at 5:30 this morning. This came after a night of dreams, one of which had us taking care of a college women’s basketball team, and trying to keep them from catching CoVid-19, which apparently in my dream was spread by being bit by large waterfowl – specifically, Canadian geese. The team was not obedient, and the geese were plentiful, and they had “the big game” coming up in a few days, so it tended to be a lot of work to keep them corralled and not wandering the campus quad. Yes, those are the dreams I have been having as of late. No dreams of flying – just dreams like these, with biting, infection-laden geese.
So, up and going, I took Cheri to work, and then took the car over to get fixed. Apparently, besides the normal maintenance, my red car, with barely miles over the warranty period, has decided to start making a small “ticking” sound. I don’t like cars to go off on their own improv singing. Just sound like a car, and don’t audition for “The Voice.” But no – it’s ticking, and because it didn’t behave, it now has to stay at the car place all night, so they can figure out with the big “tech team” how to make it stop. All I can be sure of is that, since it is out of warranty, it won’t be cheap.
So I had to get a ride home with the courtesy van. Not bad, except the car place is on the north side of town, and we live on the far south side. I am not a willing conversationalist with people I don’t know. Not sure how I made it through 43 years in the ministry, but that’s just a fact. Call it shy or introvert – I just don’t like it. However, I was stuck in the van for a good 20 minutes or more, since he decided to ignore my shortcut and take the very longest route he could to get me home. Oh, did I mention he was an adept cusser? It always adds to the fun to hear more curse words before 10am on a Monday than I normally will hear in two weeks. I think my ears were bleeding a little by the time I got out of the van.
So, I came inside, took off my jacket, and the doorbell rang. It was the fellow come to “blow out” the sprinklers for the winter. We quickly got things turned off and turned on and unlocked and uncovered after trying to avoid the freeze before it could get winterized. It took him 15 minutes. It cost $80. Pretty good hourly wage at that rate, but I can’t do it without my own air compressor on wheels, which I would use once a year, to blow out the sprinklers, so there you go.
Oh, did I also mention that I will be going this afternoon to see about getting my broken tooth fixed? I must say that among the things I dislike worse than having to make conversation with a stranger, or paying too much for a job I can’t do myself, is having anyone mess with me. That includes doctors, dentists, eyecare specialists, tailors, haircutters, shoe salespersons, and I suppose if I ever had to get one, royal ermine and red velvet cape makers. I don’t like it, I don’t like, I have never liked it, and I don’t believe I ever will. When I hear commercials or stories of people getting massages, I don’t need one because my skin starts to crawl on its own. I don’t even care to have the grocery checkout clerk ask me how my day is going, and if I have anything special planned for the day. First of all, I usually don’t, so I answer – “getting groceries!” and second of all, if I did have something special, I can find no possible reason why I would share that with someone who is moving my food across a scanner.
So, I’ll go to the dentist, which I know is going to end up costing about twice or three times as much as I think it’s worth – like blowing out sprinklers – but I can’t quite grind the tooth down and put a crown on it all by myself. Did I mention I have a quite small mouth, and an excellent gag response, so this ought to be a blast.
Not my best day. I do hope I can get it all done and get home (driving Cheri’s car, since mine is in time-out) in time to get the large packages that are coming via UPS as part of the boys’ Christmas presents, that I ordered way too early, but I was promised a “great deal,” so now we just have to hide them in our bedroom closet for the next 66 days until Christmas.
Quite the lovely day! Unremarkable, as we continue to float in the sea of coronavirus, having to over and over again put on masks and wash our hands and answer questions of whether we have been, are, or will be sick in the near past or future. Believe me, if these were not “essential” tasks, I sure wouldn’t be going out and doing anything until it all passes. And perhaps I shouldn’t call this time “unremarkable,” since it is quite significant, even world changing, and if they can get my car fixed for a reasonable amount of money, it could even turn into a winner, winner chicken dinner kind of day!
So let me step back, and say it’s a good day to be alive, a great day to retired, and a wonderful day to know that, no matter what happens, God will never let me go. I am held in those Divine Arms, and can suffer whatever will come, in the knowledge that what ultimately comes is not simply the end of a life, but yet another life to appear, as we spend it for eternity with the One who made me in the first place. That’s quite a remarkable day, I guess after all.
Word for the day: advesperate. Pronounced ad-VES-pur-ate, this is really a simple word, but not used very often. The two parts of the word come from our friends in the Latin language, ad¸ meaning “to or toward,” and vesper, meaning “evening” (the ate is just the action of doing something). So, to advesperate is to move toward, or approach evening.
Many folks have rituals of how they approach the end of the day. In some places, where the temperature actually stays above 30 degrees in October, some folks advesperate by sitting on their patio with some iced tea or other drink. I remember in the early 60s sitcoms, how when a father got home from work, he would go take a shower and then put on his “dinner jacket” or dinner robe and slippers, sit in his easy chair and read the evening paper. It was a time to relax after a day of work. Evening for most folks is the slowing down time, and so to advesperate is to celebrate the conclusion of a day well lived, or at least one well-survived.
After 43 years of ministry, Randy Cross lived his "fourth life" and shared about retirement, living boldly and intentionally in our world. To be sure, there was some North Dakota thrown in.