March 21, 2008. Bethesda Maryland. Good Friday.

In the olden days, when I lived in Vancouver, our church held a Good Friday Service. It was a regional service in that all the Salvation Army groups would gather for the one group meeting, held by the Divisional Commander and all the local big wigs. My father was not impressed with big wigs. The order of service was to have several folks supposed to speak for three minutes about the stations of the cross. The problem was that all the speakers took longer and seemed to think they were the main speaker. My Father was fit to be tied. After listening to the first six speakers take fifteen minutes each it was my fathers turn to speak for his three minutes. But what he did was to stand up, go over to the podium, raise his hand in blessing to the congregation, and then pronounce the benediction, effectively ending the service. The leader of the meeting was furious, the future speakers too, but the congregation loved him. My Mother on the other hand was not pleased at all. Dad did not care about the big wigs, he just smiled and said the service went on too long. To my mother he said that he had spiritual indigestion, and he just had to call it quits. How could you not love him.

Now, the question of the day is,how many stations of of the cross is there? I can not remember.

Now we are going to the farm for Easter. Spring comes alive at the farm. We are looking forward to seeing or looking for the geese and ducks.All the calves have been born. The buds are bursting. It will be an exciting weekend at the farm. But there is no computer.