It's come to that point in the summer where I'm tired of summer. I didn't used to be tired of summer, because I didn't want to go back to elementary/junior high/high school. But for almost ten years now, I've hit a point usually sometime around the beginning of August where every hot humid day is the same, you've seen one green leaf you've seen a million, and since everyone at church is on vacation there isn't as much to do around the office.
Of course, I'm on vacation this week, so I don't care so much about that last one.
The prospect of fall energizes me: the change of the leaves and the thought of college football. Sipping red wine or warm cider on an early October evening is heaven on earth to me. I'm glad that I wasn't called to a church in Florida or California or some other place that never sees this, not that I was looking in those places. I would be tremendously bored without a change in seasons, if every day was like a Beach Boys song. Many people dream of that...not me.
So yes, I'm on vacation this week because I was due for one. I try to take time off every three months, although Easter usually screws that up depending on when it falls. People have asked me where I'm going and actually...uh...nowhere, really. Mrs. Jeff is still in school this week, so both time and money limit any traveling. Instead, I want to do some things in the area that I've been meaning to do for almost two years now but for some loser reason haven't: visit the local winery, stop by a coffeehouse's open mic night, visit the local used bookstore, and worship at a church in town who will say goodbye to their pastor at the end of this month.
I've done the used bookstore thing. I found a couple Merton books and one of Tony Campolo's first books. They had a bunch of Hans Kung and some old hymnals, too. And an entire room full of romance novels! That was amazing. We meant to do the winery yesterday, but opted to see a movie instead. But we'll get there.
The pastor of the local Lutheran church is leaving, much to my surprise. He'll be heading to northern Chicago. He seems pretty happy about the arrangement: a younger church in an environment that he's more accustomed to. I was thankful to have him as a colleague. He made my ordination ecumenical and was the second-youngest pastor in town. Plus he's a Michigan graduate. Hail to the Victors, baby.
Speaking of, that's the other thing I'm doing this week: a family reunion in Michigan. For me, this is meeting family members or reminding people that I'm related to them and less, 'Oh, Cousin Verne! I haven't seen you forever! Remember when we skipped rocks on Winnebago Pond? How's the gout?' But then again, you can't complain that you don't know anybody if you don't make an effort to know anybody. So yeah, I'm gonna go do that.