Weekend Adventures

Busy day-- church this morning, then cookout this afternoon. More folks are able to come than we'd anticipated, so it should be a great time. The only drawback is that I didn't get all the baking done I wanted to, because my oven shorted out yesterday, big time. A large spark, and the smell of burning electronics are not good signs.

My sermon's as ready as it'll ever be, I guess. I'm a little nervous about this; we've got relatives in from out of town, who've not seen me in the pulpit before. (note to Seabury classmates-- yes, in the pulpit, with a manuscript. I don't take John Dally's preaching class until next year, and I'm enough of a rookie that I'm unwilling to experiment on unsuspecting parishioners). I hope God takes over-- (s)he's good at that.

We've got a houseful this morning. Bruce's sister Tammy and her family (husband, three kids and one on the way) got in last night from Louisville (that's "Louavul," for the uneducated out there). Classmate Kassinda came home with me on Friday, so we've had dueling laptops going, trying to finish papers due this week.

Kassinda got a little more than she bargained for on her trip, I think. Friday night we had serious storms, and funnel clouds sighted only a couple miles away (though none touched down, fortunately). Then last night, we were studying-- Kassinda at the kitchen table, me in the living room-- when we heard some popping noises in the distance. Suddenly this discrete little instant message appears on my screen: "Ok, Jane, I don't mean to bother you, but those are gun shots." Well, yes, they were. We live in the township, outside the city limits; it is not unheard of for someone to express some pent-up energy by shooting at some set up target-- or into the air, just to make noise. Being a city girl, however, the noise meant something entirely different to my buddy. Sorry about that, dear.

Funnel clouds one night, gunshots the next. Never a dull moment.