A Spiritual Sunday Morning

I woke up late this morning, another perfect day like the ones with which we have been blessed here in Central Illinois the past week. The temperature is 80 degrees, low humidity, not a cloud in the sky, not a morning that should be wasted sitting in church, fidgeting, looking at my watch, wondering when this is all going to be over. Instead, I'm sitting on the patio, listening to my favorite radio station, Whole Wheat Radio, out of Talkeetna, Alaska, a listener-run station operating out of a small cabin in the woods.

Tiny is hardly the word to describe Whole Wheat Radio. There are 33 listeners this morning, and the station has a capacity of only 90 listeners. I like it because it plays the music I like, folk, light rock, country, blues, by independent artists. The operator of the station is a computer genius who has set up an automated station that plays listener requests, 24 hours a day, 7 days a week.

Other than my usual sloth, I woke up late this morning because we had a spaghetti party last night, brought on by an over-abundance of chianti. I have a client/friend, a retired restaurateur, a Sicilian-American, who lives nearby and brings me tomatoes, eggplants, peppers, and Sicilian cucumbers. Who needs a garden when you can feast for free from the excess of your friends? Last week he brought over the usual vegetables, but also some home made pesto, spaghetti sauce and a gallon of chianti. We invited Number One Son and The Bride, Baby Milton, EIEIO, another friend who doesn't have a psuedonymn yet and three students from The Bride's English class, two of them from Korea and one from Brazil. Besides spaghetti, The Wife made crostini topped with pesto, tomatoes, and provolone cheese; a salad and an unbelievable peach cobbler, made with fresh Farmer's Market peaches.

I ate too much and we almost killed that gallon of chianti. If I am hung over this morning, it is only from a surfeit of good times, not alcohol.

And now for my spiritual insight of the morning. I know I have done nothing to deserve this gorgeous Sunday morning, any more than I will deserve the below-zero blizzard we will probably have this winter. I think I am enjoying it because of climactic conditions. But if anyone wants to attribute my good fortune to God smiling, be my guest.