When Boy#1 and Lovely Girl moved back to God's country a few weeks ago they pre-mailed three boxes of books to save them from the packing melee. Two of these boxes were filled with old textbooks, law manuals, and other references. The third was filled with One's sentimental books--the first book Girl gave him, his childhood Bible, gifts from cherished friends. If you were to guess which of those three boxes arrived intact and which did not survive the trip, you would be correct. Their bookshelves are, sadly, now filled with reference books and law manuals and all that remained of the most beloved books was a packing label apologetically returned by the post office.
This week, though, a package showed up at our church. The folks in the dead letter box at the post office (or whatever it is now named) checked through the Bible and found an old bulletin with the address of our church. They mailed the Bible back to the church, and it's now in the House on the Corner waiting delivery to its owner.
Strong work, postal service. Strong work.
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I'm taking the afternoon off for some routine maintenance. I tend to put off this kind of routine maintenance (see also: crushing deadlines) but Wednesday evening my women's group spent much of our time clustered around one of our members who has just found out she needs chemotherapy for breast cancer. The following morning I received a text from my Peace Corps roommate, letting me know of her diagnosis of stage 3 breast cancer.
Both of my friends are upbeat, and positive, and both are surrounded by good support systems. Neither is asking for boo-hoos, but my ex-roommate did have a request:
I am sharing this info with you now because it is my hope that you and your friends will schedule a mammogram in case you have not done so recently, and secondly, because I would like you to add me to your prayer list.You've got it, MAK. I'm heading to the radiology lab this afternoon, and will be whispering your name and S.'s name to the Great Healer as I go.
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Photo from Taste of Yum |
When we got back from Iowa with Pearl loaded down with farm food, one of the delicious goodies was a home-raised chicken. I did not know this chicken personally, so I was able to happily pop it into the Crockpot and Monday night we had an enormous (and delicious) chicken dinner. That consumed approximately one-eighth of the bird.
They raise chickens BIG in Iowa.
For the remainder of the week I have been scouring the internet for recipes that use cooked chicken, and my favorite has been this Creamy Chicken Quinoa Broccoli Casserole from Pinch Of Yum. I thought it was, indeed, quite yum. Plus it didn't include any canned soups, was low in fat, and was packed chock-full of healthy ingredients. (Quinoa! Broccoli! Chicken!)
Husband, on the other hand, found it meh at best and barely leftover worthy. (Quinoa? Ick.)
Okay, I can take a hint. I'll make it again but I don't plan to share.
Adding my slow appreciative clap to the Dead Letter Office.
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