Of Matins, Men's Group, and Muscular Exhaustion

We got a little rain late Friday, but not much. And despite it looking rather threatening (or promising, depending on your like or dislike of rain), I went ahead and put the weed-whacker, the gas-powered one of course, in the car before heading off to church.

When I got there, at 8:24 AM, there were only three in the church: Fr. Daniel, Deacon Ed, and Gordon. Fr. Daniel must have known exactly who was coming because we started Matins as soon as I sat down, instead of waiting until 8:30.

After the service we headed down to the kitchen and Parish Hall, where I had to figure out how to turn the lower oven on. The secret is to turn both dials! But as Gordon pointed out the controls are somewhat confusingly labeled (and while previewing this post my wife noted that the controls have been confusing to the ladies too, which will again be a concern when they start baking cookies for the next Kairos prison ministry).

Then Gordon served up a nice breakfast of scrambled eggs (with some other things added, a little onion and cheese?), French toast, hash browns, sausages and bacon. Yum!

Somebody (Fr. Daniel?) had made coffee already, so I indulged in a half cup. I never intended to quit, but somehow over the past few years I've wound up drinking a cup Sunday after service and that's it for the week. (I'm not bragging, though I'm sure some readers might be jealous...)

Over breakfast we discussed the low turnout. Some people were away but also several of the men in our parish work for an unnamed company that apparently demands long hours from its employees, though it also rewards them well. (I am not critical of them; I even submitted my resume to said company not long ago, though in my case it was for a particular opening for which I thought I was quite uniquely positioned, but... oh, well... it appears I wasn't.)

After breakfast we cleaned up and discussed whether or not to continue with the work party, given the likelihood of rain. We decided to give it a go, so for the next two and a half hours I wielded the weed-whacker hither & thither & yon, until I ran out of string -- just before I'd also have run out of gas and a bit more before I'd have run out of strength, given a job awaiting me at home.

Managed to complete phase one of the home project too, but my arms are tired. Hope they'll be up to my duties as thurifer for the Rogation Sunday procession tomorrow.