Maybe I don’t want to admit I’m a homebody. I like sleeping in my own bed, even if it’s a makeshift thing until the mattress and box springs arrive via van next week. I like fixing my own food, especially after four days and three nights on the road eating meals via takeout or brown bagged from the hotel breakfast bar. I’ve actually gotten a lot accomplished this week since we landed in the upper Midwest–transcribed the book and lyrics for the next musical, changed some addresses and registered to vote and get a new library card. Lots of time to pray. If I don’t take it, my own missed opportunity. My family members chafe at the prospect. I feel an itch to get my new ministry started in person.
The pets and females didn’t do particularly well in the car. They tolerated hotel life, left. (Actually, that’s a substitute shot of cute from years back.) I’d like to show you the image of my socially-distanced cats with luggage, but the google has decided it doesn’t like my short cuts of sharing pictures from my phone via drive, or even wiggling them through different email platforms. Screenshots, nix. Even shut down my browser. But one of the things I live for is outsmarting the 1%. Maybe tomorrow.
Assuming everybody stays safe and healthy, I should be out and about at my new parish in time for the holy day on December 8th. Between now and then, looks like Zooming it.