Getting Back in the Saddle and the Winner of Spilt Milk

Here is the actual chair and set-up from which I posted in Lawrenceville. Above that is room 211, where I have apparently left my "spectacle glasses." So I called the hotel, and the desk person told me that Housecleaning had gone home (3:00 pm?) and that she would ask them in the morning. In the meantime, she would look if she had time.

Well, I certainly hope that her grinding schedule allowed for two minutes to check lost and found, although the whole time I was there, there wasn't one busy moment at that desk. Unless you count my group of 10 asking about a good restaurant, and since we're gone, I think life will calm down there behind the desk of blurred frenzy and perhaps she will find a moment to look.

When I got home Saturday, I lay down to take a nap which lasted 13 hours. Yes, you read that right. I slept from 5:00 pm Saturday until 6:00 am Sunday. Thirteen hours.

Have I mentioned there are perks to not having small children to tend?

This is serious recovery. The kind of recovery I needed when I returned from Kazakhstan. So I guess when you're 46, you need 13 hours of sleep to spring back from a conference where you mainly sat and then sat for another hour and a half flight?

As I mentioned in a previous post, we had a "wild" church staff night at Johnny Carino's and Jillian's, where we bowled.

Since we were divided into two vans everywhere we traveled, I had a great idea: that the two vans should be two teams vying against one another.

Great idea! Except I had the lowest score out of 10 people. THE lowest. Even though one woman fell down on her first trip up the lane and many others threw gutters, I still managed to have the lowest score. I threw many gutters, too, but I also had many scores of 6 or 4. Or 3.

I always wondered if I had the makings of a professional bowler. It is a mystery no longer.

I think what threw me off is that I always see my calves and ankles as upside down bowling pins, so having the pins physically in front of me really messed up my concentration.

By the way, I had an odd moment trying to explain to my fellow travelers why you call me "Lid." The humor loses something in translation, I guess.

So now I'm getting back in the saddle again, blogging, going grocery shopping, ellipticizing, going to work, blah blah.



Therefore, let us end this post on a happy note, one in which we announce the winner of Linda Vujnov's new devotional, Spilt Milk.

The winner is: Baba of Baba's Babies are Special!