Can You Only Imagine?

A couple of items regarding the pictures in the last post:

1) This is a new one for me: the day of the dinner party, I swept the floor with butter.

You heard me.

No, not on purpose.

It took me a while to figure out how it happened, but eventually I remembered jamming trash into the trash can with the broom. Aha.

2) Buddy LOVED my mistake. He pretty much took care of it for me. You know, with his tongue.

3) The "Let's-Make-Sure-Everyone-Bawls-From-Beginning-To-End" song I Can Only Imagine was played at the beginning AND the end of the funeral service. On the way home, we found about 38 different ways to use the title in our conversation. It ended something like this:

Mike: "You know what I want played at my funeral?"

Me: "I can only imagine."

Mike: "Don't Cry for Me, Argentina."

(I knew I could only imagine.)

4) I was asked to sing Amazing Grace at the funeral. Not being a soloist, or a social butterfly, I wasn't overly thrilled, but watcha gonna do? I was a little nervous, especially since it was a cappella, but, boy, the acoustics in the high-ceilinged chapel were amazing and there was a good-quality microphone on the stage - I could have sung the Oscar Mayer wiener jingle and it would have sounded gorgeous. So...made it through the song without a single glitch...and then I turned to walk away and smashed my gigantic ring (wimpy rings look silly on ball park frank fingers) on the side of the podium. BOOM. High-quality microphone sent it all over the room. Just call me Grace. 

Never a dull moment around here. What wackiness lies around the corner?

I can only imagine!


Paul and Vicki Young said...

I am hunting all over your blog for you pics of your back yard with neat things hanging on the fence. My niece Hannah needs to see it. I can't find it, but I'm so enjoying the search. This was so funny. Wendy would have slid under a pew laughing if she'd have been there. She's not well behaved at funerals anyway.

Timber said...

Now you have me (and Bethany) laughing - I can only imagine how fun it'd be to be with Wendy at a funeral (of someone we hardly know of course!).

In case you still have trouble finding it, you probably meant this post:

My cell phone is in one of the pics (temporarily lost as usual), so there's a little I Spy fun in of these days I'll post my latest painting, upon which I glued a Cheerio, for some more I Spy hijinx. It's my "Life-Should-Be-Peppered-With-Occasional-Silliness" philosophy coming out!