Well, I am returned from far lands, the better for my journey, although I did not find what wind (pronounced "whined") serves to advise an honest mind.
I went to the New Orleans area for a book sale last week, then made my journey over land and sea, or over land that was sea, or over brackish bayous, to north Louisiana and the conjugating couple of Remy and Bethany Wilkins.
I had a lot of fun hanging out with the Wilkins males watching college hoops all weekend. Florida lost, and although I didn't see it, on my drive back I had to listen to some talk radio guys in Mobile riding Matt Walsh for crying after the loss. I guess their idea was, you can cry if you play really well and lose, but not if you play the mason and lose. Can't say I disagree...he does seem to disappear when the pressure's on, and now Florida's on the outside looking in again.
I did discover that Louisiana boys say "pump it" instead of "pull it" when they are urging a man to shoot the basketball. You can't tell me that's not a little wierd.
But the wierdest event of the weekend was meeting CrazyKeltic during coffee time before the service on Sunday. Understand that I was in Monroe, Louisiana, and I meet this fellow blogger from Cary, North Carolina, for the first time. He had driven seventeen hours to be in Monroe for the weekend...for a fantasy baseball league draft. I'll be charitable and call that "dedication."
And I hope you all will be charitable toward me if I tell you that the worship service this past Sunday was very gratifying (if you object to the use of that word, read a dictionary, then we can discuss). The singing was loud (the acoustics at Auburn Avenue are superb), the amening was loud, in fact, everything except the preaching was loud, and the preaching was good in a non-loud kind of way.
This ladder is tall, and yet so well-made,
Stood thousands of years and never decayed;
High winds from the heavens, they reel and they rock,
But the angels they guard it from bottom to top.
-Jacob's Ladder, The Stanley Brothers
I went to the New Orleans area for a book sale last week, then made my journey over land and sea, or over land that was sea, or over brackish bayous, to north Louisiana and the conjugating couple of Remy and Bethany Wilkins.
I had a lot of fun hanging out with the Wilkins males watching college hoops all weekend. Florida lost, and although I didn't see it, on my drive back I had to listen to some talk radio guys in Mobile riding Matt Walsh for crying after the loss. I guess their idea was, you can cry if you play really well and lose, but not if you play the mason and lose. Can't say I disagree...he does seem to disappear when the pressure's on, and now Florida's on the outside looking in again.
I did discover that Louisiana boys say "pump it" instead of "pull it" when they are urging a man to shoot the basketball. You can't tell me that's not a little wierd.
But the wierdest event of the weekend was meeting CrazyKeltic during coffee time before the service on Sunday. Understand that I was in Monroe, Louisiana, and I meet this fellow blogger from Cary, North Carolina, for the first time. He had driven seventeen hours to be in Monroe for the weekend...for a fantasy baseball league draft. I'll be charitable and call that "dedication."
And I hope you all will be charitable toward me if I tell you that the worship service this past Sunday was very gratifying (if you object to the use of that word, read a dictionary, then we can discuss). The singing was loud (the acoustics at Auburn Avenue are superb), the amening was loud, in fact, everything except the preaching was loud, and the preaching was good in a non-loud kind of way.
This ladder is tall, and yet so well-made,
Stood thousands of years and never decayed;
High winds from the heavens, they reel and they rock,
But the angels they guard it from bottom to top.
-Jacob's Ladder, The Stanley Brothers
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