What’s the big news this week?  Lotsa little things.

Reese was as happy as a clam Monday, not that I’ve ever met one. But she smiled a lot when I went up front and talked to her as her momma held her.

Snider turned a week old Monday. He was making contented noises as I talked to his momma on the phone about 11 Monday morning. Oh, Snider weighed 6-6 when he was born and went down to 6-2 by Wednesday, which is normal. But he surprised his doctor by gaining back to 6-8 by Friday.

Van, well he was suffering from sibling rivalry Monday morning. At 22 months, he looks like a young man but woke up in a bad mood. He had some problems eating his breakfast. Then he didn’t want to let Adrian put his clothes on him to go to daycare and started hitting her. That’s the first time in his life he got paddled.

When Adrian was ready to load him up to go to daycare, she hugged him and told him she loved him. He hugged her back.

Adrian asked me if she threw any fits after Davis was born. I don’t remember. And she was almost three years old, not less than two like Van is.

I do remember that Adrian was a clothes horse. Everything had to be just right. She insisted that her shoelaces be tied exactly the same.

– When I went by the casket after Terry Smith’s funeral, I told the preacher, Bro. DeWayne Burdette, who was our pastor at Concord for 10 or 12 years, that the crowd was getting kind of thin down there. He said they are everywhere.

Well, Sunday wasn’t supposed to be our preaching Sunday, but our pastor, Bro. Bobby Budd, was there and the house was full. And in walked Bro. DeWayne and his wife, Janice. As soon as I saw him, I had the feeling I should make a motion for him to preach.

After Sunday School, in which nobody had a lot to say, Bro. Bobby got up and talked a little while then said maybe someone should make a motion for Bro. DeWayne to preach. I did and it passed.

It’s amazing how the Lord filled the church house with people and provided three preachers, (Bro. Everett Smith was there, too.) Good service.

-Kimball and I were a tad late to the annual Miller/Boultinghouse reunion because of the church service, but we still got plenty to eat. It was good to see a lot of cousins and their off-spring. My sister and her husband were there, too, don’t want to leave them out.

– It is my pleasure to tell you about a pleasant surprise last Friday evening as I was about to leave the office. I answered the phone because I was the only one here. The caller didn’t ID himself. Didn’t have to. I knew his voice instantly even though I hadn’t heard it in years. In fact, I knew my good buddy, Dan Hare, from New Orleans was in his 80s and when I didn’t get his annual hand painted Christmas card, I feared the worst. I called and left a message twice.

Dan is now 86 and the hospital where he was personnel director retired him. Since he doesn’t have free access to a color printer, he stopped sending out Christmas cards. And their answering machine is on the fritz.

We talked for most of an hour. He still remembered the first time we fished together when I had to put my boat in the shop and Kimball dropped me off at the West Pearl River bridge to meet Dan. He had the bass located in the middle of the quarter mile wide river in weed beds just before it emptied into Lake Ponchatrain.  Now this was the first time Dan and I had fished together. I had heard about his quick temper and that he would fight. In fact, he said later that with his high voice he had to fight a lot more than he really wanted. The fish were hitting topwater Lunker Lures and Dan was running the trolling motor telling stories. He said that once a bug crawled in his ear and was about to drive him crazy. His fishing partner poured water into his ear. Bug was still scratching. Finally, his fishing partner shined a light into his ear and the bug crawled out to the light.

You know me. I couldn’t resist the obvious question: Which ear?

Suddenly there was nothing but silence in the front of the boat. I thought – What have I done? Have I made him mad?

Finally Dan said, “This is my boat. I don’t have to put up with that kind of abuse. Get out.” Then he laughed.


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