I've been rushing around like a crazy person this week, and yesterday I was told, in no uncertain terms, to slow down.
It came in the form of flashing lights in my rear view mirror. The kind that make my gut clench and think, oh, crappola.
The motorcycle police officer was very kind.
"I was speeding, wasn't I?" I asked sheepishly.
"Yes, you were. 31 in a 25 MPH zone. The folks around here have asked us to encouage people to slow down."
He asked if I drove drove in this neighborhood very often. Hardly ever, I said. I was on my way from early morning mass, taking a back road because the main street was so busy.
He scribbled on a piece of paper and handed it to me, smiling. "Here's a warning. . . and say one Hail Mary."