The annual holiday experience turned out well, as many things do. Fun and funny. A once in a lifetime practical joke that gained momentum and would not stop.
It turns out that the Christmas Gentleman Caller is from my own neighborhood. As we suspected. He is an octogenarian with a keen mind and a subtle sense of humor - one who couldn't quite carry it off last year when I suddenly invited him in for wine and candy.
This year, there was no gift of Godiva Chocolates. Rather, GC came with an invitation to Sunday breakfast and church afterwards. This is his last Sunday in Tallahassee for he is moving to Georgia to live closer to his grandchildren.
I couldn't refuse. Coffee, eggs, grits, and sausage at the Village Inn and worship at Bradfordville First Baptist. I'm home now and wondering. How many of us are ever the recipients of such a mind-boggling and relentless Christmas mystery?
I'm a lucky lady to have been the one. You know that churches are teeming with silver haired, well dressed, self-reliant, and fun-loving widows. I wonder what GC will do for Christmas fun in Atlanta? I've heard that those ladies swarm over visiting elderly gentleman with pans of banana pudding and calls for help with leaky faucets. An anonymous prankster hardly stands a chance in that environment.
Here I am, finally, home from church. Serene after a southern breakfast and a rather hilarious conversation. Chuckling out loud to myself that I have been one lucky Christmas victim. So many Godiva truffles; very little wine; one really cool conversation. Then, Bradfordville Baptist, which has changed considerably since my last visit. Under new management, so to speak. I loved my morning.
