I told my doctor that I think everyone dislikes me. He said he knew that couldn't be true because I haven't met everyone yet.

So glad to see it making a comeback. Routine. Now that the lady of the house has returned. My routine came with her, as part of the package. And, while many point out the dangers of routine, (rut), it helps give me a sense of balance as I go about my daily activities. It's Tuesday, February 19, 2019, and I bid you a hearty hello from my typing platform here in The Home Office. The most simple definition of routine says it is a sequence of regularly followed actions. Bingo! I typically get up at a certain time. Mr. Bentley gets up with me. We go outside. I drink a cup of coffee while he is getting fully awake and prepared to embrace whatever mischief he can find. We then climb the stairs where I can get caught up on all the important things going on. (As if that mattered.) I call up and finish my current blog which is usually a work in progress. If I am unable to do these things in regular fashion it makes for a labored start to my day. It doesn't ruin my day, but, it just goes to show you that we all have our own idiosyncrasies. Or, I think that to be true. You can think about your own while I contemplate the peculiarity of my own peculiar ways. Or, something in that category.

The wife was gone for nearly four days. Mr. Bentley couldn't figure out exactly what had happened to her, but, as I mentioned before, he acted as if I was somehow responsible, even though I had absolutely nothing to do with her leaving. I should have shot a video of how he acted when she got home. I know he was excited and I'm not completely sure a dog can be overjoyed but he was all over her, up one side, and down the other, like he was on fire or something. He couldn't get over the fact that she was back. I tell the wife frequently that I am his buddy of last resort. If she is here, he wants to be with her. If Jimmy is downstairs, he wants to be with him. If Alesha is downstairs, he wants to be with her. Typically, none of these first choices are available at 4:30 a.m., therefore, he gets the consolation prize behind door number 3. The lady of the house gets up around 8 a.m., so, he and I hang out together until that time. If I am downstairs he at times goes over to our bedroom door and lays down, waiting for someone to get up. Just when I was finally recovering from the Rodney Dangerfield syndrome I have it all to do over, thanks to Mr. Bentley.

You do know I am mostly joking. Again. Mostly. The good news comes as a result of the many years of experience I have. Hold on to your sympathy cards, I may need them even more later. The wife came in from Louisiana and actually met me at the Church property last Sunday evening. We had a Church-wide outreach scheduled to visit new folks who have come into the area. She and I made contact with three different individuals. One was a lady who had the flu. I talked to her through her security device at her front door. She seemed appreciative that we came by. I left her a gift bag at her door. The next fellow was roasting some garlic in his kitchen and when he opened the front door the smell nearly took my breath away. He wasn't interested in visiting our Church since he was a regular attendee at another one, but, he too was very nice and we gave him a welcome to our neighborhood gift bag as well. The last visit was to an early 30's lady who had just bought her first house. She knew about our Church, her mom was a long-term but inactive member, and we had a nice visit with her. She indicated she might come and give our new pastor a 'whirl'. I hope she does. The photo represents two worlds. In the first photo, we see the shot sent to me by my wife on her trip. They were at the steak house and she sent this message: 'Wish you were here.' The second photo is a shot of my supper on that same night. Enough said. And, we all know I am not one to complain. Have a great rest of the day and may God provide is my prayer. Amen. ....More later.