Memories Monday -- Kate Promotes Healing

Kate invited Missy to the Rectory for lunch with lots of wine and a butter cake (Janet’s favorite) for dessert.  She also put out M & M’s, since Janet had told her that she had kept them around the house in lieu of baking cookies for the children and she and Missy used to eat them with their coffee.  Janet told me that Missy had “gotten a snootful” and cried when she saw the M & M’s, to which Kate added, “And she wasn’t the only one.”

I asked what Doug thought of all this and Janet said Missy told her that he had other interests.  “If you know what I mean.”

I said, “Do you mean sports?”

“No, Charlie.  The same interests he had when we were married.”  She looked at Kate.  “You see, I’m not in denial.”

Kate shook her head.  “I don’t know how she gets along in the world.”  She whispered in my ear, as if she thought I’d be embarrassed, “He fools around.”

“Well, what can she expect?”  I said.  “If they fool around with you, they’ll fool around on you.”
For some reason they both looked surprised.

“I’m not as innocent as people think, you know.”

Janet reached over and patted my hand.  “Of course you’re not, dear.  No one could be.”

Memories Monday -- A Puzzling Conversation

The Easter service was very nice.  Unlike last year, Josh’s shirt stayed tucked in and Ed remembered to zip his pants.  But something weird happened afterward.

I had everyone over for Easter dinner.  Kate says she feels like a rock star who just got back from a world tour after Holy Week, so we let her sit and wait on her, while Janet helps me in the kitchen.  I don’t know how restful it is to have kids fighting over who will sit by you and have the youngest one in your lap, but she seems to enjoy it.

I was in the den getting something, when I noticed my father talking to her.  Usually he and Ed talk about sports and look for games on TV.  “You know, Kate, for a minister you really are pretty sensible.”

Before Kate could say thank you, he said, “Don’t you think you could do better for yourself?  Oh, I don’t mean a man,” he said hastily.  “I mean better than Janet.”

Kate sighed like a mother who has just been told for the hundredth time that her kid doesn’t like peas.  “Why do you have such a problem with Janet?  I think she’s nice.”  Sometimes it’s hard to tell when Kate is being ironic.

“She allowed her son to marry Charlie when she was just out of college.  And she keeps saying she prays for me.”

“I told her that if she does she won’t find you so annoying.  I don’t think it’s working yet, though.”

“She probably isn’t trying hard enough.”

“I’ll speak to her about it.” I couldn’t believe that Kate was teasing my father.  I don’t know if he was getting it.

“You know, Missy is heartbroken and feels guilty because of that mess.  I told her that Janet feels she did her a favor.”

“I certainly hope so.”

“Can you talk to her?”

“Missy?”

“No, your wife.”

“I prefer ‘life partner,’ since wives have always been treated so badly.”

“Well, can you?”

“Well, it would be healing, and I can’t refuse to promote healing. . . Does this make me a wing person?”

“Good one, Katie.”

It’s been six months since my father talked to Missy at the wedding.  Has he been talking to her since then?  Fortunately she’s married, so I don’t have to worry about whether she’ll have a problem with staying with the kids while we go to the midnight service on Christmas Eve.

Memories Monday -- Father Josh Lends a Hand -- From Charlie's Diary

Saturday:  Betsey still isn’t going to Sunday School, but she has stopped talking about her grievances.  She may be waiting to be asked to go.  I’m going to bring it up next week.  Maybe we can have a Discussion. 

Sunday:  Today, after we got home from church, Josh said, “Aidan asked where you’d been today.”  Aidan is a boy in Betsey’s class.

First she looked panicky.  “What did you tell him?”

Josh shrugged.  “I just said, ‘My mom says she’s rebelling.’  Then we got some cookies.” 

I don’t know where he got the bit about rebelling.  I didn’t say that.  But lately Josh has been coming up with more than “Good one” or “No way, Jose.”  I waited for Betsey to start scolding me that this was all my fault, but she hadn’t really noticed.  She had a look in her eyes, like she was interested.

“What else did he say?”

“He said he was going to play softball this spring.”

“No, I mean about me.”

“Nothing.”

“Are you sure?”

“Well, he said, ‘Your mom must be really cool not to make her go.’”

Then I got interested.  “What did you say?” I asked.

“I said, ‘Yeah, she’s OK.’”

I guess a parent’s wishy-washy is a kid’s really cool.  I’ll take it.

Cilla worried that Ed’s feelings might be hurt.  “You’re cool too, Daddy.”

“Thank you.  I was beginning to think you’d forgotten about me.”

Well, if it takes a boy to get her back to Sunday School, I’ll take that, too.  I’d really like some closure about the pigs, but you can’t have everything.

Emily and Alice: Still Hanging Out -- From Charlie's Diary And a bonus recipe!

Emily may have just been being brave when she said that she was relieved that her friendship with Alice wouldn’t be ruined by becoming a Relationship.  Or maybe she just hadn’t understood how much she had counted on it.  She and Alice are still hanging out and running around.  Alice told her that if a prospect came up when they had plans, she would be happy to step aside.  But nothing seemed to come up.

I was worried about how we could get the word out that Alice and Emily weren’t a couple.  We asked Janet to tell her friends at Epiphany, so it would get around. Emily asked Janet to give the impression that they had really been a couple; she was embarrassed that she had been so wrong. We told Emily not to go to church that day; that would have been awkward.  But by Sunday afternoon, the women from Epiphany were calling and asking her to dinner.  The problem was that they were all couples who were trying to be supportive.  They all but brought over casseroles. 

Kate did not have to ask Emily how she felt about it.  Emily was only too happy to tell her.  I told her how I felt about my matchmaking going wrong.  Really crummy.

Then Emily told me that she had been talking to her ex, Michele.

I called Karen and Nikki for an emergency meeting.  “Michele is bad news,” I said.  “But Emily said that she really needed to talk to someone who knew about breaking up.  We’re all married.”

“Can’t she talk to Wendy?”*

“Wendy was never that enthusiastic about Alice.  Now she’s mad.  She had one of Alice’s books and she burned it in Emily’s honor.  When she talks to Emily, she calls Alice 'that bitch.’”

We all agreed that Wendy was a real friend.

“Maybe Emily has lost her faith in love and is taking bitch lessons.”

“Really, Nikki” I said.  “Just because you’re married to a European, you don’t have to be sophisticated all the time.”

“I read that Agatha Christie used to say that the worst explanation for something was usually the right one. “

“Should we have an intervention?”

“I don’t think it’s that bad yet.  But let’s keep it in mind.”

“When my high school boyfriend broke up with me, I stayed in my room and cried for a whole weekend.  My mother refused to let me stay home from school.” Karen reminisced. “But she baked cookies.  I couldn’t eat, so my sister and brother got them, but my mom froze some for me.”

“What kind of cookies?”   I asked.

“Oatmeal Scotchies.  They have butterscotch chips and you put in a little orange exact.  It sounds weird, but it’s good.”

“What happened to the boy?”  Nikki wanted to know.

“I ran into him a couple of years ago.  He sells insurance and gave me his card.  He’s losing his hair.”

“Serves him right.”

“Do you have the recipe?”

“I think my mom still does.  I’ll get it for you.” 

Now I know what I can make for Girls’ Night.

We decided to wait on the intervention, but I’m going to ask Emily for Wendy’s number.  Maybe she can head off Michele.

*To sort out everyone, see “Emily Has a Past”. February 6, 2015.

Karen’s Mom’s Oatmeal Scotchies

o    1/2 Pound(s) (2 sticks) margarine or butter, softened

o    3/4 Cup(s) granulated sugar

o    3/4 Cup(s) firmly packed brown sugar

o    2 Eggs

o    1 Teaspoon(s) vanilla

o    1-1/4 Cup(s) all-purpose flour

o    1 Teaspoon(s) Baking Soda

o    1/2 Teaspoon(s) salt (optional)

o    3 Cup(s) Quaker^® Oats (quick or old fashioned, uncooked)

o    1 package(s) (11 oz.) butterscotch flavored chips

o    Orange extract to equal the peel of one orange

PREPARATION:

Heat oven to 375°F. In large bowl, beat margarine and sugars until creamy. Add eggs and vanilla; beat well. Add combined flour, baking soda and salt; mix well. Add oats and butterscotch morsels; mix well. Drop dough by level tablespoonfuls onto ungreased cookie sheets. Bake 7 to 8 minutes for a chewy cookie or 9 to 10 minutes for a crisp cookie. Cool 2 minutes on cookie sheets; remove to wire rack. Cool completely. Store tightly covered.

Memories Monday -- Salvation and Career Choices -- From Charlie's Diary

Betsey still isn’t going to church or Sunday School.  No one has asked about her, but I’ve been hiding out in kitchen at Coffee Hour, where everyone is too busy gossiping to notice.

But we had a breakthrough.  We were having dinner and Josh said, “I think it was mean of Jesus to kill those pigs.”

Cilla shrieked, “Don’t say that Josh!   You’ll go to Hell and I’ll miss you!”

Betsey sneered, “What makes you think you’re going to Heaven?”

Cilla looked panicky.  “I’m going to Heaven, aren’t I Mommy?”

“Of course you are. We’re all going.”  Then I changed the subject.

“You know, in Heaven you can eat whatever you want.  And you never have to go to bed.”

This impressed them and probably sounded so good that they didn’t want to spoil things by asking how I knew.

Then Cilla had an idea.  “I’m going to pray to the Blessed Virgin Mother that God forgives Betsey and Josh.”

“That’s very nice of you,” I said, ”but why don’t you ask Jesus?”

“I couldn’t do that.  If He knew Betsey was mad at him, His feelings would be hurt.”

“You know, Josh said, “I’m mad at Jesus, but I still love Him.  Like when Mommy got so mad at Daddy she threw a pillow at him.”

Not one of my prouder moments, but I was trying to get his attention during the Super Bowl.  I forget about what.

“And I forgave her,” Ed put in.

“Very gracious of you.”

“I know.”

“The point I’m trying to make here,” Josh continued, (He got that from my father, except he left out  the  “damn it.”)  “is that Jesus knows we get mad at Him, but it’s OK.  He forgives us.  Just think of all the stuff we do that makes Him mad.”

Betsey looked like she wanted to believe him.  But of course she couldn’t admit it.  “Who are you, Father Josh?”

I started adding in my head: four years of college, three of seminary.  But it’s a long way off.

Josh laughed.  “No way, Jose!  I want to be a paleontologist.”

That’s college, master’s degree and doctorate.  And the job prospects are even worse than for clergy.

Well, it is a long way off.

Memories Monday -- Ed Weighs In -- From Charlie's Diary

Ed Googled “Jesus and pigs” and now he can’t figure out why Jesus did it.  And what about the owners of the herd?  That was their livelihood.  That wasn’t right.

I felt a certain satisfaction when he brought it up last night.  I’m usually the one who starts the discussions.  I didn’t comment on the validity of the question, partly because I’m too polite and also because it had occurred to me, too.

“Can you imagine what would happen today if someone did that to somebody’s business?”  he sputtered.

“They would have sued him before you could say knife.”

“Damn right.”

“Sorry, God.”

“Charlie, you don’t need to apologize to God for me.”

I didn’t say anything.

“All right.  I’m sorry, God.”

“I’m just surprised they didn’t take it to the Pharisees.  They would have loved it.”

“But the Pharisees wouldn’t have cared, because pigs were unclean anyway and the owners would have been Gentiles, who didn’t count.”

“But it would have been a chance to get Jesus.”

“Yeah, they missed an opportunity there.”

“Don’t mention that to Betsey.  She’ll be even more upset.”

Then Ed had an idea.  “Listen, Charlie.  Why don’t you go to Kate or Father Mike and tell them that you’re upset, because you are.  Then at least we’d have something to tell Betsey.”

“Why don’t you?”

“You’re more comfortable with clergy.”

“You’ve been a Christian longer than I have.”

I knew I’d have to be the one to do it.  But I was afraid I’d break down and say it was really Betsey.

Then I had a thought, “Don’t you remember anything about it?  After all those years in Sunday School?”

“I never paid attention.  I thought church was a bore.  By the time I got to college, I was practically an atheist.”

I was surprised to hear that. “But I met you at the college Episcopalian group.”

“Oh . . . well, I saw you around and I thought you were cute.  So I asked some people and somebody told me you went there.”

It was almost worth having the problem with Betsey to hear that.  But we still don’t know what to do.