This Is The Day

I could tell you about my morning cup of coffee.  I could tell you about Bible Study.  I could tell you about my visit to the Shop Rite; about who I saw, piling up her leaves, driving home; about my morning; about my visit to the Methodist church bazaar and who I saw there; about my troubles with the furnace; about the wedding; about the little mess I had to clean up after; about my nap; about my bath; about my few moments sitting here writing and idly surfing the web.

My descriptions would not be novel or earth-shattering.  No great insights, philosophical or psychological, social or political, temporal or eternal, would be found there.  There would be very little to differentiate my experiences from those of many other mortals of similar background.  I would evoke from no one any belly-laughs, gasps of horror, moans of sympathy, or tears of joy or sorrow.  But....these things comprised my world today.

Coffee was welcome.  Bible Study was diffuse.  Shop Rite was busy.  I saw Liz.  The bazaar was diverting.  I saw Fran; I saw Art; I saw Dave.  The furnace was off, and that was the trouble.  The wedding was pretty, and nice.  The mess was persistent; it was little heart-shaped pellets of meal which the celebrants threw over the church steps.  The nap was short.  The bath was warm, and wet.  These few moments have been recent, and now they are gone.