I’m not sure who come up with this term “Black Friday” but I am definitely not for it. To me, Black Friday is rather devious and I know the only purpose is to get their teeth into my money, which is a sacred area to me.

When it comes to shopping, I certainly am not a fan. I really do not like shopping. I get nervous when I’m in the shopping mall, start sweating and have to leave and sit in my car for at least half an hour to regain composure.

I have many interests and passions in life, but trust me, shopping is not one of them. I can live my whole life without ever shopping.

On the other side of our residence, it is a different story.

For me, the most terrible time of each month is the day our bank statement comes. We commonly call it BSS (Bank Statement Syndrome). I don't know why it is, but I have trouble getting the parsonage checkbook to balance with the monthly bank statement.

That ominous document intimidates me every time it arrives. After all, the bank's business is keeping track of accounts. They have hundreds, maybe thousands of accounts and I have just one. On the surface, it seems a rather simple thing for me to keep our checking account up to date, but I assure you, it is not. Every time I try, I lose interest.

An incident happened this past week in which I am still scratching my head. Have you ever known you had something, but for the life of you could not find it? I will accede to the fact that occasionally, I do have a streak of absent-mindedness running through me. At times, I wish it would just walk.

I was fairly certain I had an extra $20 in one of my pant's pockets. It was what I affectionately refer to as my "mad Money." My wife would be mad if she knew I had it. I do not remember where it came from but my real problem was, I could not find those pants.

Have you ever had the feeling that any good deed you try is counteracted by a good swift kick in the pants? I may be exaggerating here, but not by much.

I recently grabbed a quick lunch at a local hamburger restaurant. I don't like eating at fast food restaurants but, occasionally, I don't have much choice. Then, once in the restaurant the menu doesn't give me much choice, either.

I ordered my lunch and settled at a corner table. About halfway through my lunch an older couple took the table next to me. Being a "people watcher,' which is a fancy way of saying, "I'm nosy," I watched this couple out of the corner of my eye.

An incident happened this past week that created for me a certain pause to think about things.

I don’t often think about too many things. After all, with only one little gray cell, it is hard to think about things in the plural. “One-thought-at-a-time,” is my life motto. Experience has taught me that too many thoughts at any given time, usually leads to trouble with the Gracious Mistress of the Parsonage.

I was going to pick up a few items at Publix when it happened. I parked in the parking lot as normal, got out of the car and started towards the store. Halfway to the store is when it happened.

Even now as I think about it, I’m a little excited. Believe me; it takes quite a bit to get me excited these days.

Walking towards the entrance to the store, I saw on the ground a penny, which caused me to stop in my tracks.

I do not bend over for anything unless it is important these days. My problem is that if I bend over I will have difficulty in unbending. It has to be something rather important for me to bend down, let alone pick it up.

Between now and the end of the year our house is going to be a mad dash for the stores in preparation for Christmas.

This time of the year, I lay low and try to be as invisible as possible. If I hide in the shadows of the parsonage and do not speak, I am in pretty good shape. I have been practicing this for over 40 years, so I have reached a certain level of proficiency.

Having a wife and two daughters has been a challenge, especially at this time of the year. My son and I have survived and so I am sure I will make it through another year. However, I am not taking anything for granted.

I am somewhat of a competitive person, in some degree. I like a good challenge and I certainly like to win. Going up against the Gracious Mistress of the Parsonage has not been a successful competition. Even when she loses, so to speak, she wins. When she wins, I also win, so why should I complain?

The contest at this time of the year is to see how much money these ladies of the parsonage can save. I have not kept track over the years for obvious reasons, so I do not know who is ahead and who is behind.