Skip to main content

Don't Forget Your Pills

 The title says it all.

Welcome to life in your sixties, when the greatest term of endearment is the one that says it without saying it.

"I love you and I don't want you to die!"

(Don't forget your pills.)

Those words warm my heart.

Of course, I believe that is the point of the pills.

Warm it up.

Keep that sucker pumping!


I'm still working on this blog thing.

Trying to get it to download pictures. (I am willing to accept cookies but Google doesn't want to let me accept them.)

Maybe I'll try to insert a "buy me a cuppa" link. (Hey, we need to keep the heat on in this old church. And winter is not jus a-comin'. It's bloody well here already.)

I am shooting for my first "Sermon From The Deck", in many months, hopefully Sunday. (But don't hold your breath. I have a roofing job, postponed by the weather, that I need to finish.)

"But (fake) Pastor. Working on a Sunday is a sin."

"Look punk. Ox is in the well and blah blah blah. Also...A tight roof makes a happy wife."

And Honey.

"Don't forget to take your pills." 


Stay safe and warm.

Get vaccinated if you can.

 



Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

SERMON FROM THE DECK (The Christmas Story Version)

 Santa answered my call last night. It took a while to get past his tough receptionist, but eventually the big guy came on the line, I believe to placate and get rid of me.  We talked about memories of Christmas past. He reminded me that I asked for the Coleco Electric Football and that it wasn't his fault that it sucked. "You were supposed to be able to program the players by adjusting the fins on the bottom, but they just ran around in circles. And the kickers, the kickers, they both were broken by the second day."  He told me that he hoped my greed begat a lesson that was taught with crappy, broken things.   I reminded him that there has been no action on my later requests. World peace. Eliminated famine. Brotherhood and sisterhood. The age of Aquarius fulfilled.  He drew a deep breath, sighed a huge sigh, and then admitted that the power to have these oh so precious gifts does not come from a magical, imaginary elf in red, but is inside every one of us, jus...
Post a Comment
Read more

March Crush

 You are a 15 year old male. Your hormones are raging, surging, "turn me loose!" Your only outlet is frustration. "I bet you're still a virgin!" "No I'm not." "When? Who" You make up a lie that flatters no one.     A Goddess lives three doors down. A woman who fills your dreams with scenes of life and lust that you have only experienced in crumpled, hidden magazines. She is recently divorced. With children at home, except on weekends when they are housed at their fathers, two towns away. You notice she returns your glance before you can turn your embarrassed stare away. She gives you a sly smile. "Oh God, she knows." One day, at a gathering at the school, she comes up to you.   "You are sure growing. I could use such a strong man to plow my driveway." What does she mean by that? Could she be coming on to me? "Yes Ma'am. I'm available tomorrow after supper." You know tomorrow is Friday, and that her ki...
Post a Comment
Read more

Modern Funerals And The Lost Art Of Avoidance

 I hate funerals. Of course there is nothing to love about them, although I remember a couple of English War Bride Aunts who enjoyed them as a social event. They showed up everywhere, for the show, the chinwag, and probably the free lunch. Myself, I avoid the services at all costs. There are, of course, reasons to go, and funerals that can't be avoided. The last two I attended were non-religious events, that served beer. How could I refuse. And of course there are family events that one is obligated to attend, even if it's to quickly sign the register, and then hide in the basement, as far away from the proceedings as possible. I have been a pall bearer twice. They were amongst the most uncomfortable times in my life. I have also ushered a few times. I sucked at it. How could I ever recommend a good seat when my body and soul wants to crawl into my church basement hidey hole. Part of my avoidance of funerals is something I have mentioned to people in person and on social media ...
Post a Comment
Read more