Five straight days of busyness…this is like having a job!
Wednesday and Thursday I was at Columbia, reading to all the wonderful children who make me smile. Those days give me so much pleasure, and if I was smart, I would just be happy with them and not tag on another event at the end of the day.
Thursday evening I attended a workshop put on by the local paper about the north-south divide of our city and how the residents react to that belief of a split city. It was by invitation only. It was late in the day. It was at the church where Terry and I got married 43 years ago. I thought I could handle it. But it was at the end of the week for me. I’m not articulate and smart, even if the subject is something I’m passionate about, at 6 p.m. I gave it my best shot.
Friday I baked a bread pudding, using the trimmings from communion bread for the past two months. Then I went off to church to set up for a funeral luncheon for Saturday. Three delightful ladies joined me and made light of the work.
Saturday morning we were up at 6 to water the yards and go get our flu shots before going to church to serve the funeral luncheon. What I thought should be a 10-minute stop for the vaccination took 30 minutes instead. From 10 o’clock to 2:30 we were on our feet producing, serving, and cleaning for the luncheon. About 50 people came. They were a lovely group. When I got home I realized I still needed to do laundry. I had also brought home seven of the tablecloths from lunch but they would be done another day. I had hit the wall. Or, so I thought.
Sunday morning we were again up at 6 and at church shortly after 9. Terry had choir rehearsal; I set up for coffee fellowship. I served the bread pudding I baked on Friday and leftover crudités from Saturday’s lunch. There was even enough makings left over for one pitcher of strawberry lemonade punch which was drank up immediately. It’s again hot here. That beautiful “SanDiego-like” weather has vanished.
Upon finishing the clean up, with Terry’s help, I realized I could go no further. It was a struggle to walk to the car. Fortunately Terry had driven so I sat, motionless, silent, for the ride home. Without undressing, I laid down on the bed and fell asleep. Five days is my limit. Heck, it’s probably over my limit. Someone asked today, someone who knew what my last few days looked like, why I was doing coffee fellowship.
“Because I signed up for it months ago. I didn’t know someone would die and it would be the same weekend as a funeral luncheon.”