OFFICIAL WIFE: Post-Pascha

Alex got home at 5:30A on Easter. I woke up. We had a little hurrah, and he tried to take a nap. I always take the Monday after Easter off to sort of recover.

Of course! Of course! The butter lamb was decapitated en route. *shrugs* Alex roasted a goat hank, which is delicious. I put some goat jerky in the Easter basket in lieu of ham. I like goats. I like to pet goats. I like to eat goats. Goats.

Then, Alex had a work conference right after. Consequently, I walked about ten miles in three days getting to work. I walked a bit before Easter, too. Alex's car has been in the shop since October. While we are looking into replacing or fixing it, even if I had a car, I'm not sure I'd've used it. I'm not big into driving. I only work at places that I can reach by biking or walking. My second job for part of 2007 was a sandwich making gig on the weekends 4.1mi away. It was very good for me physically.

So since HoneyBunches has been gone so much, I vetoed Saturday church and Sunday church.

Yesterday, as we were getting ready to go grocery shopping (First Time in Three Weeks!) Alex was giggling about the way kids hear things in church which reminded me of my similar experience.


When I was at the 5yo-8yo church, we sang (of course!) from Heavenly Highway aka Elvis' hymnal. They also had older green books... I don't remember what those were, but my Mamaw likes Elvis so anything Elvis sticks with me. Like a Bell's Best the items are in no discernible order so you tend to memorize the number of the song (no page numbers).  So Mailman Andy (husband of Ms. Charlotte at the time, he had no other identity until later) called out, "Everyone please turn to No. 199."

This is a breathless fast foot stomper.

So me, as a kid, I'm singing this, and I'm wondering. I had to wonder because I couldn't ask. Alex's church has a ton of kids, and they're rather more casual than when I was a kid in church. My parents enforced an absolutely no talking, and BE STILL, sort of policy. ON PAIN OF DEATH. Don't get me started on the shoes and lacy socks and tights. Don't even.... So I'm wondering. I didn't want to sing something I didn't understand. So I started with the 'roll.' The roll was a scroll, I decided, it was the one where everyone who should go to heaven has their name on it, in fact. I thought of it like a teacher's roll call only rolled up to make it even more a roll. What is a 'pyonder'? This baffled me for a long time. I considered that 'pyonder' sounds like 'piano.' I knew there were different pianos (grand pianos, organs, accordions) so I concluded that 'pyonder' was a special piano.

So in my mind, God would point to the scroll, call it a pyonder, and it'd turn into a pyonder because God called it a pyonder. Then, someone would start playing it, and we'd all file into Heaven. --and I needed to remember to be there! I was promising so I couldn't forget. I had to be there, and it'd be so embarrassing if I forgot to be there. So I asked my dad on the ride home, "How do we know when God will make the pyonder? Because I need to plan on being there." I've always liked being on time.

Oh, and "How do we know." Don't tell me the answer. Tell me why. Why wasn't my first word, but it was on up there.

Chillaxing to the Max,

me