for a period of relative busyness at work. Evidently there is some sort of a huge gala this weekend for the children’s hospital, and of course everyone who is anyone is attending….and they have known about this for a month at least but didn’t purchase the dress until now, and of course it doesn’t fit. Note: I am not anyone, so I am not going, but a whole slew of my work is….I’m the one who makes the somebodies look that way!
This post will be a bunch of random stuff I have to get off my fingers, which I may or may not fill out some later.
First, why don’t priests were clericals any more? (RC priests, that is…..EC priests are REQUIRED to look priestly even when ‘off-duty’ – this means cassock or dog collar, thank you very much). This evening we went out to one of the RC parishes to partake of thier Mardi Gras dinner (free, I didn’t have to cook or clean up so of course I was all for it) and there were TWO, count ’em, priests there and neither one was in clericals. They looked like they were just somebody’s generic uncle or something. (May be they were afraid someone would want to confess or something, it being Shrove Tuesday and all).
Second, get a look at what was sitting on the fence outside my back door this morning:
I took this in a tearing hurry, through the glass (wet from recent rain) in the back door, so it isn’t a great picture, I know. But it’s a ROBIN, people!!! And it’s February! Woohoo! Spring will be here (soon, I hope).
I’m still cruising around to the other Fun Monday participants, and I am going to try to visit all 80 (wow, that’s a LOT) before next Monday, but I have to think of my answer to the next assignment which is going to be very hard for me.
Oh, and for those of you who guessed about the picture (and for those who looked but didn’t guess – chickens): May 1989, in the Goreme Valley, Turkey (please mentally put those two little dots over the “o” in Goreme, I don’t know how to type in foreign alphabets). The doorway at which I stand is the entrance to one of the ‘cave churches’ in this region, and St. Paul and companions preached here. Here, as in, just inside that door. Is that cool, or what? (And what if St. Thecla had stood just where I’m standing, listening to Paul tell the Good News along with Silas and Barnabas….gives me chills, it does).
Wow, my little editor thingy says I have typed 444 words (and have said nothing at all worth noting). I think tomorrow is another Catholic Carnival, and I may find time to post proof that younger boychec (AKA biker priest) is really the mystery child of Lt. Horatio Caine (not really, but it is a funny story).
Eastward, Catholic Soldiers! 
And when you were in Turkey at the cave church of St. Paul…way back when…perhaps you said a little prayer that someday your future friend with a little Silas would have a little sister named Thecla…??? :o)