Mud and kisses

So as this picture indicates, we've had rain lately. I mean, the dogs are running through a deep puddle in an area that's usually dry as a bone. I was a little surprised to realize upon moving from Seattle to the beach that I miss the rain. I really enjoyed the mild, rainy Pacific Northwest. I like bright, sunny days as much as the next person, but I guess I don't need them as much as I once thought.

So anyway, yeah, all this rain lately has made me pretty happy. There is one problem, though. Actually, make that two, the first being muddy dogs and the second being my old achy bones. Seriously, it's kind of embarrassing. First my wrist and forearm where I broke it starts aching. Then an hour later my bad(er) leg hits me like a mac truck. I'm down for the count from the pain and drugs for at least one day (but usually more like three).

As the dogs were out swimming in the puddle this morning, I noticed the telltale ache. No surprise, I guess, given another weather system coming through. An older gentleman who broke his hip did his usual circuit of the dog park in the car while his little dog bounded alongside. It started me thinking about our church here.

Now, let me first say that I've really come around to our church and enjoy it a lot. The problem I've encountered is that sometimes it's kind of a hard "sell" to other people. The demographics have changed even since we've been here, but the congregation is still largely a middle aged and older crowd. A large group is at a completely different stage in life that is more difficult for the fewer number of 20 and 30 somethings to find common ground. But I love them to pieces, and it's a nice change to be in a church that has more older folks. However, it does change the church experience. Our fellowship interactions are kind of like ones that you have with your own grandparents.

I particularly like the back row of older gentlemen with their sound amplifying headsets. The things look like stethoscopes with something the size of a walkman at the end instead of a bell. It cracks me up. Other aiding devices are found here and there.

I have it on good authority that not too long before Peleke and I came along, sometimes it was a little difficult to hear the pastor speak over the many rhythmically puffing portable oxygen machines scattered throughout the sanctuary. That thought still makes me giggle.

I love that we get lots of hugs, kisses, and even sometimes what I think is pride in us. But, oh man, poor Peleke got a big surprise yesterday! One of the oldest ladies, affectionately known as Granny, loves to go around and give big smooches and hugs. I usually walk away with bright lipstick marks on my cheek that Peleke laughingly rubs off for me. She got ahold of him this Sunday, though, and landed a big fat kiss on his lips. It was really sweet and funny, but I don't think either of us was expecting it. As you may have guessed, he came away with red lipstick left on his lips. I couldn't stop giggling during the service for about half an hour.