Vacation

I am a terrible homebody.  While I love to be out with parishioners, sharing their lives and and being present in their homes, when it comes to recreation, I would just as soon be at home as anywhere else.  As a student, it was terrible because, living sixty miles from town at my parents' ranch, it took a great deal to motivate me to leave, even for a day, to go see people in town.  So, last evening, as I was finalizing plans to travel on a whirlwind trip to the Twin Cities and then Aberdeen, it occurred to me that I would probably find more relaxation at my parents' place.  So, after sleeping in, cleaning my room (a relative term in this instance), going to confession and buying some groceries, I now write from the comfort of the living room where I grew up.  The rain is pouring, the roads are getting muddier by the moment, and I have no plans except to finish this post, watch television, celebrate Mass, and pray the Divine Office.  My folks will be here soon (apparently they were in Rapid City today) and I will cook a meal for them and my nephews who are with them.  In fact, as I write, I hear the rumble of the diesel pickup they are driving.  No, this ranch it is not an island paradise, and there is a good chance that I will be drafted into some sort of servile labor before I leave, but it is home, and it is comfortable, and it is quiet, and it is good.