Because our former
small-town parish was not a wealthy one, our pastor was dependent on
parishioners for upkeep and maintenance of the church.

Once he asked my husband, Sam, to
rewire the confessionals. The only way to reach the wiring was to enter the
attic above the altar and crawl over the ceiling by balancing on the rafters.

Concerned for my husband’s safety,
I waited in a pew.

Unbeknownst to me, some
parishioners were congregating in the vestibule. They paid little attention to
me, probably assuming I was praying.

Worried about my husband, I looked
up toward the ceiling and yelled, “Sam, Sam, are you up there? Did you
make it okay?”

There was quite an
outburst from the vestibule when Sam’s hearty voice echoed down, “Yes, I
made it up here just fine!”

Koos se moeilike legkaart

Koos bel sy beste maat : “Piet, jy moet asb kom help. Ek het ‘n riller van
‘n legkaart en ek het regtig hulp nodig. Ek het geen idee hoe of waar om te
begin nie.”

“Wat moet dit wees as dit klaar is, Koos?”

“Volgens die boks moet dit ‘n hoenderhaan wees”

Piet val by Koos in en word na die eetkamertafel
geneem waar al die stukkies in die boks die hele tafel vol lê.

Piet betrag so vir ‘n oomblik die hele gedoente en sê:
“OK Koos, dit sal nie moontlik wees om hierdie legkaart ooit te voltooi nie,
nog minder sal dit ‘n hoenderhaan kan
voorstel nie.!”

“Ek wil hê jy moet vir ‘n oomblik
ontspan, kom ons drink ‘n lekker koppie koffie en…” Piet neem ‘n diep sug en
sê: “Dan gooi ons al die Cornflakes terug in die boks”

“Airport Mistletoe”

It was the beginning
of December. The trip had gone reasonably well, and he was ready to go back.
The airport on the other hand had turned a tacky red and green, and
loudspeakers blared annoying elevator renditions of cherished Christmas carols.

Being someone who took Christmas
very seriously, and being slightly tired, he was not in a particularly good

Going to check in his luggage
(which, for some reason, had become one suitcase with entirely new clothes), he
saw hanging mistletoe. Not real mistletoe, but very cheap plastic with red
paint on some of the rounder parts and green paint on some of the flatter and
“pointier” parts, that could be taken for mistletoe only in a very
Picasso sort of way.

With a considerable degree of
irritation and nowhere else to vent it, he said to the attendant, “Even if
I were not married, I would not want to kiss you under such a ghastly mockery
of mistletoe.”

“Sir, look more closely at
where the mistletoe is.”


“Ok, I see that it’s above
the luggage scale, which is the place you’d have to step forward for a

“That’s not why it’s


“Ok, I give up. Why is it

“It’s there so you can kiss
your luggage goodbye.”

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