Stride

Mom and sister are here for the weekend. If you can imagine, it's like the biggest treat of all time to see them twice in one month. It's like getting an injection of all the silliness and energy and fun and carefreeness you had in high school when you're much older, less fun, and far less carefree. Good medicine, that.
The autumn weather has been splendiforous, and the foliage takes my breath away.

I knew it would happen: I hit my ministerial stride this week, where I feel more like I Can Do This and less like "Oh my God, what's next?" as I scramble in my bag with a racing heart to consult the day planner and to juggle the whole jumble of it all.

I am back to the gym on a regular basis. Therefore, energy is up.

Harvest decorations cheer the house. You know why we like to have pumpkins around this time of year? Because they're extremely cute. They might just be the cutest vegetable there is.

I'm excited about Thanksgiving. And terrified about Christmas. Right on schedule. I'm at the point of begging my Muse and the Holy Spirit for some ideas: "Excuse me, Holy Spirit? Gods of the liturgy? Anyone? A creative and heart-warming Christmas Eve theme? I need one again."

I make soup. I am planning May programs. The basil is harvested and frozen into blocks of pesto. The winter boots and shovel are prepared for service.

Aunt Sadie still makes the best autumn scented candles of anyone. It's nothing like Yankee Candles, which we refer to in my family as "Yankee Headache."

The cat is mesmerized by the falling leaves.