"Hey, Padre, good news and bad news," went the early morning text. You see, these days churchpeople tend to text instead of call and in fairness it takes ring-tone beastliness out of your morning coffee, so I'm not complaining.
The bad news? Someone had to stay in hospital an extra day or two, she's eager to be out, and the good news was a ticket for the FFA (Future Farmers of America) fish fry. Would it be welcome relief from the National Menstrual Equality Day or a trial?
So, after a hard day's sweating over a hot computer I drove off to find out. Turns out it was good, it felt great to be in the countryside and see my friend's place, it's been awhile. I asked him, "How's it been?" and he replied, "Busy, busy, and busy."
I told him I was "busy learning to walk again," which he seemed to like, "You're doing pretty dang good at that. Could've been doing pretty dang bad." We parted ways, he had work to do, organizing the operation.
And I tell you, what a good crew of straight-up people having fun in the clean country air of a Texan evening, everyone getting convivial and taking it easy, the food was delicious too. But then it was time to leave JM's not inconsiderable Compound and head back to mine in the light of the setting sun. I won't say it wasn't beautiful because it was.
There was a time when I'd have laughed and accused you of being a deluded fool if you'd said I'd end up in rural Texas. God, it seems, is full of surprises.
Your Friend,
LSP
