Other things we do: Terzo's baptism

Us non-hair cutting types also post, A LOT. It defuses any one emotion and hides the real ones unless you're good at hide and seek.

So Saturday was bad (see Carolyn's questionaire, two or four posts down). I hate hormones but they do seem to make things clear that were otherwise murky as pea soup.

So Sunday, I had one of those God taking me by the scruff of my neck and whispering "left, now right, right, now another left." It's documented in scripture here: Isaiah 30:21.

I woke up and thought, I have GOT to go to morning church. Which in my mind means Bellefield. God had other ideas. I thought, I am starving, which on Sunday means Tazza. God had other ideas when someone handed me a muffin the day before at the end of the conference.

I went for my walk. It was like the worst walk ever. It was like two years ago that summer when my mother would say, go for a walk, then call me. (I was so very depressed. Let me tell you, endorphins don't kick in like that when you're very depressed.) Even the smiling dogs didn't make me smile. I played a not so bad game of catch the ball with the wall, though. My eye-hand coordination is great!

I came in, surfed a little, commented a little, posted a little. Got hungry, found the muffin, got my quarters, went to get a newspaper. Minnie, my little old Italian neighbor was waiting for her ride to church. I hadn't seen her since the mayor's funeral (we watched it together) so it was great to catch up. She's one of the reasons I want to live on my street forever. She is like a third grandma to me, which is good since the first two are gone now. So I chatted with her about my family and who's living on the second floor now until her ride came. Then I walked with her to the sidewalk and then I walked down to get my paper.

Can I tell you HOW much I adore living in the 'Burgh? When the mayor's wife's quote on the front page of the Post-Gazette is "What does your husband do?" "He works for the city." I want to hug this 26 year old woman who is of all things, a hairstylist, my dream job. I want to go to Summer Hill and be her best friend. I may send her a card--I'm sure everyone wants to be her best friend after reading that article. Then I read about "one of America's great websites" which is a play on the tagline of the Post-Gazette, which appeared the summer the statue of Caliguiri went up, the summer I was job hunting in Pittsburgh, yes folks, it was 1993. How old were you? Don't answer that. The tagline for the Post-Gazette is "one of America's great newspapers." Well, "all the news that's fit to print" was taken, and many transplants will point out that the PG prints a lot that isn't fit or news, but I am a loyalist. If you want to say something bad about my Steelers, Pens, Pirates, newspapers, presidents, say it somewhere else. It is in my DNA to be loyal until the end. Other things I'm loyal to: the New York Times, my family, and my friends. I'm my daddy's daughter, and in that world, the president is the president, whether you agree with him or not. And if I was stupid, I would share some PERSONAL examples of why there are some presidents I should have not respected. I didn't say like. I said respect, because it takes a lot to get there and a lot to stay there. Alright, I'm done with that particular rant.

Okay, look, the sky is pink, so I'll maybe pick up this train of thought later. I have a date for a walk in the sunrise. Buh-bye!

Oh, and here's the recap: because part of the plan for yesterday (left, now right here) was going to Terzo's baptism. Here's what I wrote as a comment on BB's blog:

"Well, for me, the main thing about infant baptism is twofold:

the village and the church say, even though you are a crying squirming person that can't talk, we take you in. You don't have to behave to belong.

Two, the village says, we will watch out for you (and your family) to ensure we do the most to allow you to explore where God wants you to go.

The service was beautiful. The day, weatherwise, was perfect. The waffles, they were delicious.

I want to break out into Louis Armstrong and sing "What a wonderful World."