THE HOUSE AND THE CHURCHWARDEN

We bought a house. After 27 years of marriage Amy and I finally arrived at that state of financial stability which would permit a couple of middle-aged morons like us to sink our sorry butts into an overpriced people-box. Yes, we can now joyfully suffer the great American dream--three long decades of loan company usury--provided, of course, I never buy another bamboo fly rod as long as I live.

The question most frequently asked about our new residence is this: �Aren�t you excited?� The answer is, �No!� Thankful, yes. Excited, most definitely not. I said as much to a particular preacher a few weeks ago and he practically accused me of lying. Omniscience withstanding, the right Reverend is wrong. There is virtually nothing exciting about deliberately signing on the dotted line for a dinky little two bedroom ranch requiring more repair than Benny Hinn�s dilapidated theology. Within two years the roof will need replacement, then the furnace, and the foreseeable weekend projects are verily infinite. Oh yeah, I�m as giddy as a springer spaniel on its first flush; can�t you tell?

But we had no choice. Naturally, the same cynical clergyman could easily contradict the claim by pointing out the obvious: nobody put a gun to our heads. True enough. Annual enslavement to an ever escalating rent payment was always an option. However, it seemed far wiser to mature into old age paying our own mortgage instead of the landlord�s. After investigating nearly forty other homes in our price range (which wasn�t much) The one we chose turned out to be the best deal for the dough. Plus, a slightly rising interest rate at the time meant we had to move on something rather quickly lest our buying power weakened too drastically. Oh well, at least there�s comfort in consistency; a bad decision is usually ours for the making. I can hardly wait for those cheery words of comfort when the place burns to the ground because of bad wiring.

Bad wiring is precisely why the September CW promised not to be published. Not one room of our humble dwelling has a computer safe outlet, and consequently a malicious charge of static electricity could have easily killed the iMac quite dead. Therefore, until we remembered the GFI receptacle down in the basement we took no chances, but now THE CHURCHWARDEN is back in business.

Because of the time lost and the necessity of preparing articles for October, I thought it might be wise--and perhaps interesting--to make the September issue consist partially (just a few) of real letters from real people. The correspondence I have received over the twenty months of THE CHURCHWARDEN�s existence has been plentiful and generous with praise. Hopefully, you will enjoy this small sampling of my readers� opinions. In the spirit of fairness, I would have gladly included a scathing criticism or two, but so far there hasn�t been any!

THANKS, FRIENDS, FOR ALL OF YOUR KINDNESS. TO GOD BE THE GLORY

Perry