In my free time, which I actually have a little bit of right now, I am reading a book given to me for my birthday . . . by my sister-in-law, Anna, who knows how much I love getting lost in Adriana Trigiani’s books.
A word of profundity from her latest, Home to Big Stone Gap:
“Truth be told, she was humiliated. She couldn’t believe a preacher would actually have the guts to say anything to her about her private life.
‘For the record, Otto’s the one who’s afraid of heaven and hell.’
‘Is he going to be baptized?’
‘Oh, yeah, I’m buying front-row seats to that shindig. Wait till you see old Otto dunked in the Powell River like an old tire. That right there is reason number one I leave my donated cans on the porch when the Methodists come collectin’. I don’t need to be saved, I have no interest in it. Here’s a tip for you: never get into a conversation with a preacher on a weekday. It starts out as idle chitchat, then next thing you know, they got you volunteering to do God knows what and agreeing to things you’re dead set against.'”
How did she know??!?