Things Made Right

Now I like a loose end as much as anybody, probably more than most, but I'd like to take a paragraph or two to put some closure to one or two subjects which have graced this space in the past.

Too many to's and two's in that sentence. Too bad.

We got our car back from the shop on Friday, and it looks brand-spank-diddly-ankin-new. Forgive the Flanderism, but I was just so gosh darn impressed. I mean, it's just flawless. Not a scratch or dent to be seen anywhere; the interior is spotless...Vic's Brooklyn Park Autobody does a fine, fine job if you're ever in need of that sort of thing. Of course I can't say how much they charge because we didn't have to pay a cent. Don't you love happy endings?

Well, me neither, at least in movies, but I'll take them in my life.

An odd but tolerable side effect of having your car bashed in is a slight increase in the volume of junk mail you receive from lawyers. In our case, the number of such missives per week rose from zero to four. They apparently obtain information about accidents from police reports and "public records," but don't bother to sift out the incidents in which the "victims" were not actually in the car. So we've had several offers from generous, benevolent organizations who would like to help us attain reimbursement for our physical suffering and mental anguish. How nice.

Another thing which is at least in the process of being made right is the child care situation at our church. I've previously utilized my little digital soapbox here to vent my frustrations with said situation, so it's only fair that I take a moment to acknowledge that one of the potentially many silver linings of our involuntary move into Aldrich Presbyterian Church's building has been a wonderfully large and well-stocked play room for toddlers which is (to quote myself) not audibly at one with the gathering space. Also, Toby is a toddler now. Arrangements for children under 18 months is still an issue that needs addressing, in my opinion, but it's not one Michelle and I have to worry about for another six months. Hopefully the dialogue will continue. For now we're just happy to be able to be back at our church as a family.

It's nice to see things be made right, or at least better. I'm tempted to embark on a philosophical discourse about the nature of our ability as humans to look at an object or situation and pronounce it "right" or "not right," and how the fact that we corporately recognize an ideal state for nearly any given physical or theoretical concept and aspire to that state is indicative of a subconscious knowledge of perfection and therefore a source thereof, a spiritual embodiment or manifestation of perfection which we may or may not choose to call God.

But these days I'm quite the relativist myself, so I'll let it go.