So, as I mentioned in the footnote of the previous post, some silly person (that would be the senior warden) nominated me to run for the parish vestry (that's the elected body that conducts the secular business of the church, such as finances, etc.) and a bunch of other silly people voted for me, so...yeah, now I'm a vestryman. Errm, vestryperson.
This weekend the vestry went on retreat to bond and discuss the BHAGs (Big Holy Audacious Goals) of the coming year at a beautiful conference center in the Columbia Gorge. It was dark when my contingent finally arrived (hey, some of us have jobs...) but the rector promised us that at daybreak we'd have a beautiful view across the Columbia toward Washington.
At daybreak there was no Washington to be seen.
But who's complaining?
Okay, I am. I didn't have the greatest night's rest. Believe it or not, this was the first night since I've moved to Oregon that I was away from my cats. Starbuck always sleeps under the covers with me. In fact, if I go to bed before she's ready, she smacks me on the face with her paw until I lift up the quilt so she can go under and cuddle next to me. (Rocky...well, he's usually somewhere close by. He's kind of all over, depending on his mood.) I felt their absence keenly.
Alas, there wouldn't have been any room for tiny Starbuck in this bed. I likened it to sleeping on a coffee table. It was the smallest bed I've ever seen, and while I like them firm, goodness gracious! My roommate called it a good Christian mattress* (he was being cynical, like all proper Episcopalians). Oh, my roommate was 80. Yes, he snored.
Still, it was a beautiful morning.
Our retreat was cut short because the conference center kicked us out; apparently they checked with the weather service and said, "If you don't leave now, you won't be able to leave for two days." Basically we got as far as agreeing we need a third service, but we didn't decide when or what it should be. (I vote for evensong!!!!) Our carpool also ratified a decision to stop in Troutdale for lattes.
* * * * * * * * *
Here's Starbuck in front of the fire while I watch my TiVo'd Keith Olbermann. Honestly...does this look comfortable?
Here's another view. She looks like she fell off a cliff, right? Maybe it's yoga.
* So small that missionary is the only position that could possibly work and so hard that it wouldn't be much fun.
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5 comments:
Okay, I'm a little freaked out, because the only other person I've ever heard talk about a BHAG was Jerry Falwell. Is this actually a common Christian thing that I just never knew about?
Evensong would be nice, but I'd throw my support behind compline.
Vestry - congrats (or not -did you miss a meeting or something?). Given your recent relocation, it sounds as though they needed fresh meat to throw to the lions.
BJ
cats r so wyrd
I read once that they naturally only engage he muscles that are necessary at any given time--hence their occasional extreme floppitude
on the other hand, perhaps she was dreaming and forgot to wake up when she fell ;). Did she ever try to climb that 75' tree the dog went up back when ;)?
:) Cat yoga. Very nice.
My cat, Emily, does the same thing...only she sticks a claw in me while I'm sleeping. I have to lift up the covers and place my arm in the correct position so she can turn around 3 times and then plop against my face. Then she purrs me to sleep.
By the way, I "borrowed" your Rocky by the tub picture for my blog. I hope you don't mind.
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