I should have started this series a long time ago, which would have been especially good for days like these when I know I need to force through days of sparse motivation. The day after Easter for some pastors feels like a Grade A hangover.
GUMBO is a mixture of gravel, farm debris (which can include various species of poop, hay, corn kernels, feed, etc.) mud, and whatever the constant wind brings in from the corners of the Continental United States that gets on your shoes, clothing and hair. However, Gumbo's most cacophonous appearance comes after driving through a gumbo patch on a dirt road. After parking your vehicle, the raw gumbo bakes on the vehicular underbelly. Upon departure, the roasted gumbo releases from its baking area and is redeposited over the next several hundred yards toward the driver's new destination. Gumbo is a close cousin of sand from the beach (for all of you Pacific Northwest readers); traces of gumbo can be found for sometimes months at a time after initial exposure.
Sometime gumbo looks like beef stir fry if it is served over a nice plate of spring snow.
I almost always found traces of gumbo on my clergy robe after a Sunday in South Dakota Ranch Country.
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