First Presbyterian Church of Alabaster (Cumberland)
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Tuesday, 03 August 2004

" The Armadillo Tale "

The session meeting wasn't over Sunday evening until after 10:00 PM. As Renee Brown and I made our way out into the garden area just outside the office entrance, we heard voices. Rounding the corner steps in between the education building and the sanctuary we saw Scott Oglesby, Bob Hicks, and Tom Gillis. They were staring down into the flower beds just beyond the walkway. There was movement in the flower bed and mulch started flying up in the air. Part of the walkway was covered in dirt and mulch. It was an odd site.

The object of their fascination was an armadillo. He or she ( we didn't check the critter out that closely ) was burrowing under one of the bushes. Now having spent considerable time in Texas, seeing an armadillo wasn't all that surprising to me. Bob Hicks, however, made mention that he had been in Alabaster twenty some years and this was the first one he had ever seen. We were all drawn to watching this animal burrow and run around as we tried to rid the flower beds of the digging varmint. But, we weren't properly prepared. We didn't have our armadillo removal kits with us.

My first thought was to call Lloyd Davenport. He gets rid of most every animal that goes across his backyard. Or, so I've been told. Then I remembered that Lloyd was out of town and that if he had been available that would mean that some of us would have to eat the armadillo because Lloyd, I've been told, will also cook whatever goes across his backyard.

Next, I started to call the mayor. I mean David Frings keeps all those animals around the store and at his house. Some of them even do tricks. A trick armadillo might be kinda cool! Some of them are exotic and if Bob Hicks has never seen an armadillo in Alabaster then he's probably not the only one. Doesn't that qualify the armadillo as exotic? And Jennifer wouldn't mind. Or would she?

Then I remembered I had my six iron in the back seat of my truck. So, appropriately armed with an armadillo removal kit, Bob and Tom and Scott and I approached our quarry. By this time Renee had left. She had realized this was going to turn into a strictly guy thing. We shook limbs, rattled leaves, and poked and prodded the armadillo until he or she ( remember we didn't check that closely ) took off into the darkness. Sure that the flower bed was safe, we resumed our casual chatter.

What did I learn? Well, two things. First, a good six iron can help you accomplish a lot. Secondly, I know how many Presbyterians it takes to get an armadillo out of the bushes: Five. Three elders ( sorry Renee, you're guilty by association ) and two pastors.

Grace and peace,

Pastor Mark

Last Updated ( Wednesday, 04 August 2004 )
 
 
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