Monday, October 8, 2007

Alexe's last day as a 24 year old

And she's off having our baby girl checked on.

Can't say enough about what a good choice I made. She's almost 7 months preggers now, and is just beautiful. Last night we went to the town's athletic fields to play with the pooches, and she (Alexe) was racing around after Shadow, scrambling for the tennis ball, and even attempted a cart wheel! (A noble attempt.)

Good strong woman. And cute as a button.

On Saturday night we moseyed down to the town green for the weekly music event. Had a very pleasant, mellow time sitting on a bench eating spaghetti from the local girl's softball team fundraiser and hamburgers from the Lion's club, and listening to a band sing about cornbread. Lots of folks stopping by our bench to say hello, tell Alexe she looks great, and generally ask if I know what I'm going to do with the building. (It's positioned exactly across the street from the band stand, I think a very elegant back drop, but it's hard to avoid it coming up in conversations.)

There is a 3rd generation pharmacist in town, he's running the same drug store (with soda fountain) his grandfather started. Alexe has interviewed him for her Talk of the Valley weekly column, and I've listened to him guest preach at church, but I had not yet met him. (This is the case with most of the town; Alexe knows them intimately, I do not.)

This man, I believe in his 70s, glows a bit with God's constant presence. I'd seen this when he was at the pulpit, but after the first hour of his preaching, with no end in sight, it was a comical observation more than anything else.

On Saturday night I introduced myself, as he had just inquired after Alexe's health, and shook his hand. He was warm, affectionate, and soothing all at once. He said he had wanted to give me something for a while, took out his wallet, took a folded $100 bill out of a hidden pouch, and slipped it into my pocket. "A drop in the bucket to help with your renovation; we appreciate what you're doing so much" he said. I didn't even make a motion to refuse. There was no arguing.

He then reached into his breast pocket, pulled out a yellow card, handed it to me with a smile, and wished us a pleasant evening. The yellow card said, "Smile, God Loves you and I Love you." He had a pocket full of them.

I'm living in a story book.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

moony moony over Pumpkin Pants.
-t.b.b.