Where do you hang out when most "places" are closed for the summer or are a good 20 minutes drive away? Well, let me catch you up on the "hang outs" in Highlands County.
ROSERIOS PIZZA: This is almost directly across the street from the church. Roserios Pizza could be called "Cheers" because it's definitely where everybody knows your name. Darrell, the woman in charge, can connect people like no one I've ever seen. One days I was eating the pizza (which is good, by the way -- I recommend the cheeseburger pizza -- EAT MORE BEEF! ya know?!) Anyway, while I was eating I was listening to Darrell. She's from Boston and has the accent and everything (didn't I say this place was Cheers?) Darrell asks a couple where they are from as she pretty much knows everyone who comes in. Turns out there from some suburb of Las Vegas and have just moved within the week. She welcomes them and then connects them to another couple 2 tables down who just happens to be moving to the same suburb of Las Vegas in the next 2 weeks. The people connect immediately and soon the table of 2 becomes a table of 4. I'd say this was coincidence except it happens CONSTANTLY in there. It's so much fun to watch. She has a gift, ya know? I was waiting on my pizza there last week while being stressed out about the lack of wedding know-all and working on the homily. She comes by and within minutes I'm feeling better about what I have to do because she has so much good stuff to say about the bride and groom because, of course, she knows everybody. The only draw back for this place is that it is only open Wednesday through Saturday and they close for a month every year. Oh, and did I mention they also rent DVD's from the closet?
THE WATERING HOLE: This place is the hang out "in town" (that's a 20 minute drive) that is known for their bar. I can't say I've been there for that reason but I know many people who consider their bar the best place to meet singles. To be perfectly honest, I don't know what people in Highlands County look for in their couples if they are there to pass out (which seems to be the chief end of things -- not a nice buzz but literally to make themselves sick . . . to each his own, right?) Though, from what I've seen, people are mostly looking for someone who drives a gas guzzling truck -- if it's been jacked up, even better. This is, after all, redneck heaven. But I'm not nay-saying the Watering Hole. They boast some of the most incredible steaks in the state of FL (EAT MORE BEEF!) and, for entertainment value, they have a live alligator in captivity (with an interesting past life) and a host of peacocks. It is pretty impressive for the Middle of Nowhere, FL.
AFFINITY HEALTH PROFESSIONALS: My favorite non-eating hang out is Affinity Health Professionals. It's a chiropractic office. Initially I went because my husband went, but before long I learned that the staff is ALL my age or younger. In other words, it's one of the only places in the county that is not aged. Even the doctor is a couple of months younger than I am. I've experienced great health through chiropractic and acupuncture and even the massage there so I am a "regular" in their office. But really, what drew me, was the social life. (I know, too funny! KT discovers her social life at the chiropractic office!) I feel like I'm part of their family. They expect me when I get my stress headaches around funerals or church business meetings. And I offer my services in the sense of being available to offer people help with spiritual wellness. It is well worth your time if you're ever in the Arbuckle Creek area.
So that's the news for today from Arbuckle Creek -- where all the women drive golf carts, the men are blatant carnivores, and the children watch for alligators in their backyards.
Tuesday, July 31, 2007
Monday, July 30, 2007
The Meeting Ground
Every small town has it's meeting ground . . . you know, the place where people get together to hook up or to catch up on all things new under the sun. Arbuckle Creek has a few of those places. Today I went to one of them -- Publix. That's right, the grand supermarket located only about 20 minutes from my house is THE place to meet people. Well, let's just say it's where 30-somethings congregate; it's also where 80-somethings congregate. I can't tell you how many pastoral visits I've made in Publix. I'm like, "Hi, so and so! It's so good to see you! You're buying eggs today? Me too! Wow!" Actually, conversations go a bit deeper than that, but the eggs make a great conversation starter.
Today I had the wonderful opportunity to catch up with every family that had been in my 8 year old's 2nd grade class in only ONE stop! Unbelievable! We cart around to the back and what do you know, there is my daughter's teacher's son. As we back track, trying to find his mother, we run into one of her best friends' dads -- out to lunch with a couple of co-workers. Did they go to some really fancy restaurant? No way, Jose, (I hope that's not a racist phrase! Excuse me if it is!!!) they went to Publix! Which makes sense because he's something like an underwriter for agrarian real estate or something like that. So we caught up, then rounded the corner where we found her 2nd grade teacher and began talking. She too will be homeschooling in the fall so we're already looking for ways to connect during the schoolyear. We finally get to the check out lane where I see the former pastor of my church sitting in what I call the "waiting room" of Publix. If you've ever wondered what that row of chairs is at the front, it's where all of the retired men go sit while they wait for their wives. It's a WONDERFUL place to make church visits! The church men aren't so bored and enjoy having someone to talk to while their wives are choosing between Tide and ALL detergents. We begin to head over to the pharmacy (my daughter has an ear infection) and low and behold there stands 2 more parents from my daughter's class last year. We briefly catch up on their summer and everyone gets a few more hugs and finally we get to the pharmacy and pick up the antibiotics necessary for the future of my daughter's hearing health. (by the way, the doctor told me not to use Q-tips in her ears. Did you know that? Evidently, if it scratches the skin, even slightly, and then water gets in there, fluid builds and it can become infected. NEVER knew that!)
OK, well, I told you that I ran into connections from her WHOLE class last year. She only had 4 kids in her class and there's one more I didn't mention, but that's OK because the other "meeting ground" in my neck of the woods is the hospital. I'm serious. I go there frequently 1) because they have free coffee and 2) because my church members like to keep me on my feet. Anyway, the other girl in her class's father is an oncologist so I caught up with him on my hospital visit yesterday. Aside: we have a 2nd hospital that is a 7th Day Adventist hospital and their whole cafeteria is vegatarian -- WAY cool reason to go to the hospital in Sebring . . . unless you're one of those carniverous males!
I'll save the other "meeting places" for the future, but, if you happen in my part of the world, know that they are 1) Roserios Pizza; 2) The Watering Hole; and 3) Affinity Health Professionals. I'll say more about that tomorrow.
And that's the news from Arbuckle Creek: where all the women drive golf carts, the men are blatant carnivores (EAT MORE BEEF!) and the children watch for alligators in their backyards.
Today I had the wonderful opportunity to catch up with every family that had been in my 8 year old's 2nd grade class in only ONE stop! Unbelievable! We cart around to the back and what do you know, there is my daughter's teacher's son. As we back track, trying to find his mother, we run into one of her best friends' dads -- out to lunch with a couple of co-workers. Did they go to some really fancy restaurant? No way, Jose, (I hope that's not a racist phrase! Excuse me if it is!!!) they went to Publix! Which makes sense because he's something like an underwriter for agrarian real estate or something like that. So we caught up, then rounded the corner where we found her 2nd grade teacher and began talking. She too will be homeschooling in the fall so we're already looking for ways to connect during the schoolyear. We finally get to the check out lane where I see the former pastor of my church sitting in what I call the "waiting room" of Publix. If you've ever wondered what that row of chairs is at the front, it's where all of the retired men go sit while they wait for their wives. It's a WONDERFUL place to make church visits! The church men aren't so bored and enjoy having someone to talk to while their wives are choosing between Tide and ALL detergents. We begin to head over to the pharmacy (my daughter has an ear infection) and low and behold there stands 2 more parents from my daughter's class last year. We briefly catch up on their summer and everyone gets a few more hugs and finally we get to the pharmacy and pick up the antibiotics necessary for the future of my daughter's hearing health. (by the way, the doctor told me not to use Q-tips in her ears. Did you know that? Evidently, if it scratches the skin, even slightly, and then water gets in there, fluid builds and it can become infected. NEVER knew that!)
OK, well, I told you that I ran into connections from her WHOLE class last year. She only had 4 kids in her class and there's one more I didn't mention, but that's OK because the other "meeting ground" in my neck of the woods is the hospital. I'm serious. I go there frequently 1) because they have free coffee and 2) because my church members like to keep me on my feet. Anyway, the other girl in her class's father is an oncologist so I caught up with him on my hospital visit yesterday. Aside: we have a 2nd hospital that is a 7th Day Adventist hospital and their whole cafeteria is vegatarian -- WAY cool reason to go to the hospital in Sebring . . . unless you're one of those carniverous males!
I'll save the other "meeting places" for the future, but, if you happen in my part of the world, know that they are 1) Roserios Pizza; 2) The Watering Hole; and 3) Affinity Health Professionals. I'll say more about that tomorrow.
And that's the news from Arbuckle Creek: where all the women drive golf carts, the men are blatant carnivores (EAT MORE BEEF!) and the children watch for alligators in their backyards.
Sunday, July 29, 2007
Wedding Recap
First, to assure everyone, the wedding went smoothly. Yon Priest arrived with an hour to spare and, though he was annoyed by my host of questions, he answered them, realizing he had not earned the right to be "miffed." (He even walked me through the part where I was to bow before Jesus so I had that down by the time the wedding started. The groomsmen bowed too -- pretty cool.)
The bride looked awesome, the groom was nice and calm, the bridesmaids all sniffled appropriately and the guys remembered to cross their right hand over their left. Jesus looked down at everyone from the cross even when the couple exchanged spit. It was a holy event.
But the priest was something else altogether. He was like a comedian officiating worship. When he was serious he usually was pretty poignant, but when he was cutting up (which was most of the time) he had the crowd in the palm of his hand. It reminded me a lot of Ben Affleck in Keeping the Faith except for Ben Affleck and his Catholic counterpart (can't remember who played the priest) were a bit more mild. The priest is probably in his 50s, but has only been ordained about 7 years -- so the same amount of time as I have give or take. He is really good one on one -- I can see that he'd be great for premarital counseling and for alternative worship services. He's a great combination of that ever popular (but fading) contemporary worship and the more reverent Gen X emerging worship. I'm tempted to make the trip up to the church again some Saturday evening to worship with him "live." My curiosity has been peaked. Oh, for an example of something he did . . . mid-homily he changes stoles and puts on a "God Bless the Florida Gators" stole. It was very appropriate for the couple who met in Gainesville, but so untraditional in the Catholic church. I think that church has a treasure in him, but I can see that it would take time to get used to someone so radically different. Makes me aware of the many hesitancies people feel whenever I "mess with" the traditional way of things. When I talked with the priest after the service, he stated that he couldn't be anyone except himself and while the other priest didn't start out too thrilled over his approach, the church was experiencing a renewal in the number of younger people coming into the church. Personally, I say God can use any of us, no matter who we are or how crazy we tend to be.
Hubby and I skipped out on the reception last night. (is that taboo??) It was an off-site reception and already late and I had to preach the next morning so we just went out and had ourselves a nice dinner (Red Lobster is as nice as it gets out here in Arbuckle Creek world) and then went home where I made him dance with me. We were exhausted, to say the least. All of the worrying about weddings gone wild had done me in.
And that's the news from Arbuckle Creek, where all the women drive golf carts, the men are blatant carnivores, and the children watch for alligators in their backyards.
The bride looked awesome, the groom was nice and calm, the bridesmaids all sniffled appropriately and the guys remembered to cross their right hand over their left. Jesus looked down at everyone from the cross even when the couple exchanged spit. It was a holy event.
But the priest was something else altogether. He was like a comedian officiating worship. When he was serious he usually was pretty poignant, but when he was cutting up (which was most of the time) he had the crowd in the palm of his hand. It reminded me a lot of Ben Affleck in Keeping the Faith except for Ben Affleck and his Catholic counterpart (can't remember who played the priest) were a bit more mild. The priest is probably in his 50s, but has only been ordained about 7 years -- so the same amount of time as I have give or take. He is really good one on one -- I can see that he'd be great for premarital counseling and for alternative worship services. He's a great combination of that ever popular (but fading) contemporary worship and the more reverent Gen X emerging worship. I'm tempted to make the trip up to the church again some Saturday evening to worship with him "live." My curiosity has been peaked. Oh, for an example of something he did . . . mid-homily he changes stoles and puts on a "God Bless the Florida Gators" stole. It was very appropriate for the couple who met in Gainesville, but so untraditional in the Catholic church. I think that church has a treasure in him, but I can see that it would take time to get used to someone so radically different. Makes me aware of the many hesitancies people feel whenever I "mess with" the traditional way of things. When I talked with the priest after the service, he stated that he couldn't be anyone except himself and while the other priest didn't start out too thrilled over his approach, the church was experiencing a renewal in the number of younger people coming into the church. Personally, I say God can use any of us, no matter who we are or how crazy we tend to be.
Hubby and I skipped out on the reception last night. (is that taboo??) It was an off-site reception and already late and I had to preach the next morning so we just went out and had ourselves a nice dinner (Red Lobster is as nice as it gets out here in Arbuckle Creek world) and then went home where I made him dance with me. We were exhausted, to say the least. All of the worrying about weddings gone wild had done me in.
And that's the news from Arbuckle Creek, where all the women drive golf carts, the men are blatant carnivores, and the children watch for alligators in their backyards.
Saturday, July 28, 2007
I Just Don't Get It
I went for a walk this morning (please, applaud, it's true, I exercised!) in my neighborhood which is the golf course part of "town." It's a nice quiet place to walk -- usually a few bicycles or golf carts, but not much activity during the summer and no road noise. I started early since the FL heat has been miserable and walked toward one of the newer golf courses which has a health club with a pool that I've been considering joining. As I turn down the road leading to the health club, I notice a barrier. On the barrier is a typed sign stating: THE POOL AND HEALTH CLUB WILL BE CLOSED FROM JUNE 15 THROUGH SEPTEMBER 1. Now, I can understand closing down the golf course -- the FL heat is really unbearable and very few golfers are devoted enough to play past 8 AM. But the pool . . . .????? I just don't get it. Here's their chance to make TONS of money on the school kids off for the summer and looking for something/anything to do and they CLOSE the pool? But that's the way things work around here. Everything closes sometime between April and June and everything reopens between September and November. Sure, we have a ton of winter visitors who come for the fall/winter season to escape the freezing temperatures up north, but what about the rest of us who live here year round? Why do we get penalized? The produce stands shut down in the middle of fruit season? The pools close? Even the pizza restaurant takes a month or two off during the "slow" season? It is SO counter-intuitive to me, yet developers wonder why more families aren't buying up the new houses popping up around here. Hmmm . . . I wonder . . .
Well, that's the news from Arbuckle Creek where the women drive golf carts (with their dog on the seat next to them), the men are blatant carnivores (EAT MORE BEEF!) and the children watch for alligators in their backyards.
Well, that's the news from Arbuckle Creek where the women drive golf carts (with their dog on the seat next to them), the men are blatant carnivores (EAT MORE BEEF!) and the children watch for alligators in their backyards.
Weddings Gone Wild
Sorry I didn't post yesterday, but I had a wedding rehearsal to attend. The couple is having a Catholic wedding, but the bride is a member of my church so, thanks to a liberal-minded priest, I get to assist officiating. I've been very excited about this for some time -- you see, here in Arbuckle Creek, I just don't have many weddings to officiate. Everyone is either celebrating their 66th wedding anniversary or learning how to live alone as a widow. My church members LOVE my funerals, but they too wish for me more weddings and baptisms. So, finally, I get to help officiate a wedding -- and it's not in my church (granted, we don't really have a facility that is very accomodating for weddings) but at the Catholic church. The only thing I am not able to do in this wedding is the vows, since wedding vows are a sacrament in the Catholic church. Well, last week the priest and I did a walk through of the wedding in the chapel -- learning who would be where and when. We did this because he was not going to be at the rehearsal. Gulp! Now tell me, how is a Presbyterian pastor supposed to guide the wedding party through a Catholic wedding? Let me tell you, it was a mess. Thus today's title: Weddings Gone Wild.
It starts harmlessly as I arrive at the chapel where the Father had walked me through everything, only to discover (thanks to a wonderful secretary) that the wedding was not going to be in the chapel but rather in the much larger church. He had it written down in the church but, for some reason, had it in his mind that it was in the chapel. It's OK, I adjust, and meet the wedding coordinator. Given the assertive personality of my own wedding coordinator, I knew I was home free until she started to speak, in a very quiet voice, pointing to where she would like everyone to be. I offered her a microphone but she turned me down and the wedding party continued to giggle and tee-hee. Finally, I decided to get a bit assertive and started walking people through to where they would be, etc., but I don't know anything about when to bow, genuflect, etc. Everyone kept stating, "Father R. will tell us what to do" and I smiled as if that would be fine except for the fact that Father R. was not there now and we could not rehearse with him. I am deathly afraid of weddings gone wild and although I know that in the end the bride and the groom will be married, I just want everything to run smoothly for them and I'm a bit peaved at the nerve of the priest to just "skip out" on this rehearsal. Granted, it was his mother's 80th birthday, but then shouldn't he reschedule the rehearsal so everyone knows what to do? I don't know, I just can't help but think that I would be so very fired if I pulled soemthing like that. Guess it's a learning experience for me.
Anyway, that's the news from Arbuckle Creek, where all the women drive golf carts, the men are blantant carnivores (EAT MORE BEEF!) and the children watch for alligators in their backyards.
It starts harmlessly as I arrive at the chapel where the Father had walked me through everything, only to discover (thanks to a wonderful secretary) that the wedding was not going to be in the chapel but rather in the much larger church. He had it written down in the church but, for some reason, had it in his mind that it was in the chapel. It's OK, I adjust, and meet the wedding coordinator. Given the assertive personality of my own wedding coordinator, I knew I was home free until she started to speak, in a very quiet voice, pointing to where she would like everyone to be. I offered her a microphone but she turned me down and the wedding party continued to giggle and tee-hee. Finally, I decided to get a bit assertive and started walking people through to where they would be, etc., but I don't know anything about when to bow, genuflect, etc. Everyone kept stating, "Father R. will tell us what to do" and I smiled as if that would be fine except for the fact that Father R. was not there now and we could not rehearse with him. I am deathly afraid of weddings gone wild and although I know that in the end the bride and the groom will be married, I just want everything to run smoothly for them and I'm a bit peaved at the nerve of the priest to just "skip out" on this rehearsal. Granted, it was his mother's 80th birthday, but then shouldn't he reschedule the rehearsal so everyone knows what to do? I don't know, I just can't help but think that I would be so very fired if I pulled soemthing like that. Guess it's a learning experience for me.
Anyway, that's the news from Arbuckle Creek, where all the women drive golf carts, the men are blantant carnivores (EAT MORE BEEF!) and the children watch for alligators in their backyards.
Thursday, July 26, 2007
Sharing Stories
My 8-year-old started the Harry Potter series this summer and it is everything I can do NOT to tell her the endings! She's just finished book 2 and had made some correct predictions (that's my girl!) and was taken off guard by a few other surprises. Already she's carrying around Book 3, ready to start it as soon as her head clears.
I think what excites me the most about my daughter's reading is that we're now sharing stories. As a pastor, much of my life is spent telling and retelling biblical stories in ways in which people can not only hear them but also participate in them. It's the shared stories that define us and that define our relationships. When stories are no longer shared, we feel that missing piece of our own story whereby we open our mouth to spout words and more words, hoping to redeem relationships and reconcile the eery silence.
I've heard that as people get older, they don't need to tell their stories as much. Perhaps all of the characters have played their parts or the teller has accepted the inherent mystery that is always open-ended throughout each life story. Personally, I love to listen to the older people's stories. It too is part of my job, and when people let me in to their own story, I feel that it is an honor and a privilege.
Out here in Arbuckle Creek, the stories are always being told. Today a woman came in my office and shared the story of how she got children to march around the room, helping them understand the concept of being God's feet in the world. Then another woman came in to tell me the stories of her granddaughter. A man shared with me the stories he was learning about his family through genealogy. A woman shared the story of her son who gave her his kidney.
Whether Harry Potter or Aunt Virginia, whether Abraham or Jesus, stories become OUR stories as we engage them and write them on our hearts. Thanks for reading another day in my story as the crickets sing their hot summer sun song in the tall grass in the stagnant FL humidity because this is the news from Arbuckle Creek, where all the women drive golf carts, the men are blatant carnivores (EAT MORE BEEF) and the children cautiously play in the backyard, assuming there are no alligators.
I think what excites me the most about my daughter's reading is that we're now sharing stories. As a pastor, much of my life is spent telling and retelling biblical stories in ways in which people can not only hear them but also participate in them. It's the shared stories that define us and that define our relationships. When stories are no longer shared, we feel that missing piece of our own story whereby we open our mouth to spout words and more words, hoping to redeem relationships and reconcile the eery silence.
I've heard that as people get older, they don't need to tell their stories as much. Perhaps all of the characters have played their parts or the teller has accepted the inherent mystery that is always open-ended throughout each life story. Personally, I love to listen to the older people's stories. It too is part of my job, and when people let me in to their own story, I feel that it is an honor and a privilege.
Out here in Arbuckle Creek, the stories are always being told. Today a woman came in my office and shared the story of how she got children to march around the room, helping them understand the concept of being God's feet in the world. Then another woman came in to tell me the stories of her granddaughter. A man shared with me the stories he was learning about his family through genealogy. A woman shared the story of her son who gave her his kidney.
Whether Harry Potter or Aunt Virginia, whether Abraham or Jesus, stories become OUR stories as we engage them and write them on our hearts. Thanks for reading another day in my story as the crickets sing their hot summer sun song in the tall grass in the stagnant FL humidity because this is the news from Arbuckle Creek, where all the women drive golf carts, the men are blatant carnivores (EAT MORE BEEF) and the children cautiously play in the backyard, assuming there are no alligators.
Wednesday, July 25, 2007
Not Your Normal Drive Thru
I had a visit to make today so I dropped the girls off at a church member's house to the East of the church (ranch/lake territory). The church members have a beautiful house on the lake -- a country house with a wrap around porch, beautifully hand-landscaped because they have lots of time. They're retired. But anyway, that's not what I'm writing about. I dropped off the girls and headed back to the golf community on the other side of the church to visit with a woman who wants to join the church. On the way back to pick up the girls, I saw a drive thru barn -- that's the best way I know to explain it. Since we have no food in the house and I hate shopping at the Dollar General for food and supporting Con-agra, I decided that the girls and I would pick up some food for dinner at the drive thru barn. I picked up the girls and we headed to the drive thru barn. I don't know how else to explain it except that there is a big barn that you drive into and inside is the equivalent of a gas station super mart . . . with yummy paninis. So they handed me a gallon of milk, a LARGE sweetened ice tea, a steak and cheese panini (eat more beef!) and a corn dog, fritos, and barbecue sandwich for the young'uns. They just handed it to me through the window -- WAY cool! And while I waited for the food to cook, we listened to country radio in the barn while taking in our surroundings of tobacco products, alcohol of many varieties, used DVDs, motor oil, candy bars, and dairy products. It was an adventure like no other (with really good paninis). And that is the news from Arbuckle Creek: where all the women drive golf carts, the men are carnivores (eat more beef!) and the children watch for alligators in the backyard.
Arbuckle Creek?
Arbuckle Creek is less than a mile from the church where I pastor. I live in both a rural area and a retirement/golfing community. It's a strange combination -- the two seemingly different populations. To the West of my church is a community built along 3 golf courses. Neighbor knows and cares for neighbor. Golf carts whiz by at breakneck speeds (5 MPH) and as you drive by the driving range, it's necessary to keep the moon roof on your car closed. To the East of my church is a combo ranching/lakeside community with a few mobile home parks thrust in for winter visitors. Cattle line the roads of beautiful green pastureland, huge Live Oaks, and Arbuckle Creek. The Istopoga Lake is known for good fishing and beautiful views. It's not unusual to catch site of alligators sunning on the marshlands. And so I name my blog "The News from Arbuckle Creek" where all the women drive golf carts, the men are blatant carnivores (EAT MORE BEEF), and the children avoid alligators in their backyards.
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