Last Thursday Sandy and I (and all our faithful friends) managed to move our belongings into a new apartment. We’re still getting used the the space (and continue to unpack…me more than her) and find the abode to be endlessly quirky but somehow quite wonderful. This morning I studied and ate a scone on the back porch. This evening I’m listening to a street that doesn’t sleep until about 3am (okay, so that part gets to me, but again, the place is quirky).
I was on hiatus all of last week in PA visiting Melanie and sitting in class learning out the importance of groaning in prayer, the eternal love bomb, The Truman Show, and that its ALL nuptials. Want to know more? Just ask…I’ll see if I can do the Word justice. It is always interesting to me how small the Catholic world is. A friend from the Rebuild by Church project was there, as were 2 women from Monsignor Uncle Dan’s parish, and the boyfriend of some beautiful woman named Therese Kinsley.
I returned to an empty apartment (aside from all the boxes that joyfully await(ed) being unpacked) and a bed that Sandy had made. I had intended to sleep on the couch (again) but she’d put the frame together and put sheets on, knowing that I’d be more than exhausted when I got home. She was right.
There is much to say, but sleep awaits me. It would be nice to make it through tomorrow without coffee.