Well the brunch went off okay, sort of. I missed half of it because I lost my purse.
On Sunday morning I got up early to do last minute things before guests arrived. Of course I had left way to many "last minute things' to get done in the time allotted. I was also signed up to do the readings at church. So...I was stressed out by the time it came to leave for church. I had a gob of stuff to drop off at the church and my arms were full when I went out to the car. Any alarm bells going off yet? Mark does not like to be late and was sighing at an earsplitting decibel. (He does not yell or nag, he sighs.) I couldn't get the car door open with my load so I put my purse on the roof of the car to open the door. To mitigate the sighing I quickly jumped in the car with my load of stuff...and we drove off.
When we got to church and I was getting out I said,"Where's my purse?' Mark said, "You had it not me." Jesus, Mary and Joseph. I almost collapsed in the parking lot. Mark quickly agreed to read the lessons for me, and off I drove with the dog. We went twenty miles an hour all the way home. And then ten miles an hour back again, with me praying every mile. I located enough black (my purse is black) tire pieces and plastic bags to fill a smallish dump, but no purse. I decided to go back home and look in the house. Maybe I hadn't really laid it on the hood of the car. Arrived home. No house key. It's in my purse. Luckily we had hidden another house key in the garage and after I had a good cry I remembered it. I went in the house and looked around. No purse. The voice mail was flashing but I decided I was to overwrought to answer it. I went out to the garage and scoured it again and then walked up and down the road. Still nothing. By this time Mollie was wild. I let her out of the car for a bit and then decided to go back to the church. I got in the car, and something (Some One) told me to go back and pick up the voice mail. I did.
A very nice voice said, "Hi, my name is Greg Hill and I found your wallet laying in the middle of the highway this morning. I think you may want it, it has your checkbook and credit cards and everything." He left a number that I immediately called. Busy. And busy for the next ten tries. I finally gave up and decided to go back to the church to pick up Mark and alert all the guests as to a slight hitch in the brunch plans. I drove the ten miles back to the church for the fourth time. Upon arriving I fast called the Hill number. Now, nobody was home. I left a message. More crying.
I told my story numerous times to all assembled. Much commiseration. Gave house key to guests and told them to open up the house, go out on the deck and have at it. I cared not one whit about what they were going to eat and drink, or how they were going to serve themselves or if there was dirt on the tables on the deck. Amazing how events can alter perspective. Mark suggested we look up the Hill address in the phone book and go directly to their house in the hopes of catching them at home. I decided to make one last attempt by phone before we did this...and a very nice voice said, "Hi, we got your message but we are just leaving to go fishing. One more minute and you'd have missed us. How about meeting us at the highway turnoff in fifteen minutes." This we did. A very nice young man then handed me my purse. I asked him if I could give him something for his honesty and kindness. "Nope," he said "just do the same for me when I lose my wallet." Then they drove off. I prayed their nets would break they would catch so many fish.
When we arrived home guests had found bloody Mary makings and were having a high old time. Other women served me a drink and food and I was allowed to be the honored guest at my own party! We had a great time. I have never been so relaxed.
The moral:
1. God answers prayer. He sent my purse back to me.
2. Hospitality is made up of good enough preparations and GOOD WILL.
In the past I have resented the very guests I invited because of my anxiety about having everything perfect for them. This time everything went wrong and it didn't matter. They still had a fun time. And so did I.
Take care of yourselves. Don't put your purse, or keys or coffee cups on the roof of the car. Love Bea
5 comments:
What a great story. You had to give up, surrender the party, and it went well. And YOU got served a drink. I think it is fantastic. See, you and me rarely think of anyone taking care of us, we have to forced into it. But doesn't it feel good to completely let go and then have it turn out ok? If we could just do this anyway...that's what I keep trying to do. Prepare and then let go of the outcomes.
I have not made ANY kind of homemade yogurt - but I think I have seen lots of posts about it on other blogs - what blogs - don't remember - and I think it was cow and not goat. If you have any type of health food store/coop - someone there will probably know - or a goat farmer - or you'll just have to google it.
it is a very good story - every once in a while there is a story about someone leaving a BABY on top of the car roof. . .
Man-oh-man what happens when we are under the gun and trying to multi-task!!! Glad it all turned out great in the end....
Question: Did you binge afterwards at all? Kind of post traumatic stress binging? I do that all the time!
What a major turn! From "perfect" to DIY -- I LOVED that you were the one that was served a drink at your own party! Plus you had a really great story to tell! Dinner AND a show!
Thanks for your comment on my last post -- it always helps to know there are others "in the trenches" with you.
Pass it on -- I love your hero's request. I agree with Cindy; you had to give up, surrender but oh, what a time you had before that. I understand completely your panic and horror.
XOXO
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