Dusty Elbows

People, I have something to share with you all. Apparently, my elbows have been getting dusty. I have to admit, I am clearly a very poor housekeeper and body-maintainer, since I had absolutely no idea that elbows were capable of trapping so much dust. They didn't look all that dusty to me either, not before I left the house this morning. But they must have picked up a large pile of particularly sticky dust at some point between leaving the house and landing at church. Perhaps it was whilst steering Mog and Little Fish into the holly bush covered in nettles safely through the narrow bit of the footpath and into under the railings. Whenever it happened, the fact was that by the time we got to church my ams were apparently covered in dust, albeit not dust I could see for myself. It's the only possible explanation. Why else would half the members of the congregation come up and polish my arms? Not saying anything, but a deep searching sympathetic wry grin, and a quick elbow polish, then move on. It's an Anglican thing. We're too reserved to hug spontaneously (and quite right too!), a quick polish, remove all that dust, and job done, we can all go back to the important things in life like making sure the coffee is just the right shade of grey and that all the biscuits have just one small corner broken off (thus ensuring that all the children will stir the plate vigorously in the quest for the perfect, unbroken biscuit. This biscuit is a myth).

What is it about grief which makes my body public property? If people weren't polishing my elbows they were gently prodding the small of my back. Combine the poking and the polishing with the panicked small child wheeling herself around my knees and it was not a restful cup of coffee...

Good service though. I wouldn't like people to think I only go for the body maintenance, it's nice to have a bit of soul improvement too. The church here is gearing itself up for a big Alpha event. That's a US link but I can't get any of the closer to home ones to work.

First day of school for the little ones tomorrow. I must sleep.