Oh, MY!

A while back, I invited myself to go to a Bible study with a friend who had politely offered to stay home from it, since I was there on a visit.  (In retrospect, perhaps she really didn't want me crashing the study, but I insisted. Dear me! Nothing like a nice Bible study being disrupted by someone strange who speaks whatever is floating through her brain at the time...)

AND....
It was a CATHOLIC Bible study!
I'm not.
I thought it should be safe, since they were studying Matthew, which my Bible also has.  (I didn't know for the longest time that Catholics have extra books in their Bibles.)

I didn't know what to expect.
Would there be novenas (whatever they are)?  Would we kneel and do the Rosary? (I've heard about that, too.)  Would there be confession?

Well, there WAS a confession, but it wasn't mine.  And I still smile, thinking about it!
 
I was introduced to the most interesting, intelligent group of women over the age of 60 (my guess), as a rancher's wife visiting from Cohagen, MT; we did the study, which was fascinating and not bewildering at all for a Protestant guest, then watched a little video that went with it. The ladies were very gracious when I shared my thoughts on Matthew and included me in the discussion.  It was great!

Afterward, as the Bible study was breaking up, a bright eyed, sharp looking little lady came over (maybe in her 70's) and introduced herself, saying that she'd ridden horses for a ranch near Malta and was familiar with some of the families in Jordan.  When I asked how she'd come to be in western Montana, she said that her husband had died and her friend's wife had died and they decided to move there.
Together.
"We're living in sin," she confided.
I hadn't seen THAT one coming and was trying to think of some way to move the conversation along when she offered, "But we don't do anything.  We're too old for that, you know."
Mercy!
Truly, I didn't know, I didn't WANT to know, and it was all I could do not to giggle because she was telling me "girlfriend stuff" right there in the church basement. 
She proceeded to explain that they were both German and it was a lively relationship because of it.
Hand over my mouth, still unable to speak...
Fortunately (or regrettably, however you choose to look at it), the conversation moved on to a story of a deadly train wreck in which two wonderful, young people were tragically killed, leaving their children orphans, one of whom is the father of one of my best friends.
Yet more amazing information!

I can honestly tell you that I have never been to a more interesting Bible study.
I learned a LOT.
If you are ever in the position to invite yourself to a Catholic Bible study, I strongly recommend you do so. (Be sure to eat plenty of refreshments and be prepared for confessions.)

Upstairs/Downstairs

Confession #451:
I haven't watched a single episode of Downton Abbey, Season 4.
(I'm sorry Alice! But you see, the NFL playoff games occur at the same time and I don't have the emotional energy to watch all of it.)

I HAVE been secretly working my way through Downton Abbey's "grandmother" series, Upstairs/Downstairs.  I call it the "grandmother" because Downton Abbey is a descendant of this show. In fact, the first season was astonishingly similar in plots and characters.

I didn't mean to get all involved in the Bellamy affairs!  I was in Bigfork for a week earlier in January, in a weakened state from travel and then a medical procedure, and agreed to try the first couple episodes of Season One.  By the time I left, I was hopelessly hooked.  It doesn't really make sense, either, because it's not a particularly riveting, action-packed show.  The characters are interesting, but not "J.R. Ewing"-interesting, if you know what I mean.  It's just...sort of like cheap chocolates; you can't really figure out why you keep going back to the box, because they aren't fabulous, but you just can't leave them alone!

Upstairs/Downstairs is set in a wealthy household in London at the turn of the century (1900's) and just like Downton, the viewer is seeing the drama of the prosperous family as well as the servants, often intertwined. At first glance, it seems as though all they do is drink tea and/or cocktails, and chat about society. But I'm on Season Three  Five, right now, and just went through a shocking episode that involved a former servant who ended up with a butcher knife and...
Well.
I can't tell you more.

The funny thing about BBC shows is that if you watch one episode, you're fine.
If you watch TWO episodes in a row, you'll answer the phone "Hullo? Oh, not a bit, old chap! I was preparing to have a cup of tea...would you care to join me, say, around 3? Veddy good!"
If you watch THREE episodes in one day...which you can only really do if you're bed bound and out of John Grisham novels...you'll be convinced you need to get a ladies maid (or valet, if you're a gentleman), and that celebrating Armistice Day this year wouldn't be a bad idea.
After tea, of course.