Moving into my new home and new call! Talk to you soon, ducklings! Thinking of your beautiful selves with love all the time. I miss our conversations so much. How are you doing? What’s up?
By the way, a cousin posted this old photo of me on Facebook yesterday. I have no photos of myself from this age, so I was fascinated and shocked. Who is that little girl? And… THOSE PANTS! Ah, the 70’s.
We must disappear; we’ll be back here today…perhaps tomorrow.
We’ll miss you too; it’s sad but true that parting is such sweet sorrow.
And when we’re in the distance, you’ll hear this whispered tune:
so long, fare-thee-well, pip-pip, cheerio! We’ll be back soon!
[It just popped into my head. From one of the first musicals I was ever in–in a high-school production–and then a generation later, my son was in it!]
What’s up with me is that I’m completely overwhelmed, which is to be expected under the circumstances. I had a nice weekend, but the price was that I just finished my sermon for tomorrow. Pip-pip, cheerio! Love, Karen
Your post made me remember that I dreamed last night that you moved into the neighborhood I was living in in my dream (not the neighborhood I really live in). I drove past you as movers were moving your stuff in and made my husband open the window so I could give a shout, “Hey Peacebang, welcome to the neighborhood!”
Dreams … crazy!
I went to college with a pair of red, white, and blue houndstooth, double-knit pants…Ah! The 70’s!
All the best to you…having my first work day today in a new parish myself. Surrounded by boxes and many questions: “where is” “who shall I meet first” “what’s up?”
Blessings!
Someone told me years ago that in the city of Chicago, all the leases expired on June 1 (or some date) and that weekend was like musical chairs. Moving vans were at a premium, as were elevators. Everyone was getting in and out of buildings all over town. I don’t know if that’s a true story or it that’s still the case — but it reminds me of August 1 in minister-dom. New assignments for lots of folks. Good luck with yours, PB.