Even more obscure

In the past two days, twice I accidentally spilt just enough of what I was pouring so that it exactly fit into the container it was being poured into.
My church will be mighty. I will rake in the cash. But I will still never vote republican.

The influence of confluence

Here’s two examples, one minor but interesting, the other terrific and fabulous.
Yesterday after posting my earworms, I was watching a western, there was a scene of a church raising and surprise, the congregation was singing “Shall We Gather At The River”. Mmmm hmmm.

The other needs a little background.
This year I sent out precisely twelve Xmas cards. I never, ever, send out Xmas cards. But I was given a packet of them as a gift, and on my way to throwing them in a drawer where they would have mouldered for twenty-five years I thought,
“ well that’s just stupid, I’ll just send them out and be done with it, besides they came in a kinda cool box I can use for some baked good Xmas gift.”
So I picked 12 people who either send me cards every year and I never reciprocate, or whom I don’t stay in touch with by mail because I have these really weird issues with mail. I can’t deal with it. I just hate it as much as phone. This sometimes bleeds through here as well, as you have probably noticed. I just have this periodic, temporary paralysis. (I don’t know the plural of paralysis).

Anyway, one of the people I sent one to is my old pal, oh, let’s call him, Quakey McAspen. I had given up on him well over ten years ago when it seemed apparent he had either decided he hated me, or his woman hated me and often that equals the same thing. Nonetheless I had a wish that somehow we could reconnect. He was such a completely quirky freak of nature. You just don’t meet those often and losing one is a real loss. I really missed him.

Last night, just as I was settling in to watch Coronation Street, the phone rang. I didn’t budge from the chair as everyone who knows me knows that you don’t call me between seven and seven thirty on a weeknight or between seven thirty and ten on a Sunday morning. I did, however, cock an ear at the machine. Lo and behold it is Quakey McAspen himself. I flew to the phone, we started yammering and the next thing I knew it was well over an hour later. We were finally wrapping up and making dinner plans when I said;
“so you saw in the card that I got a jenky little degree and...”
“Card? what card?”
“The Xmas card I sent you, isn’t that why you called?”
“You know Stella I have this weird thing about mail, I can’t deal with it, I never look at it, I never saw any Xmas card. I just missed you.”
Mmmm Hmmm.