Oh by the way, folks,
Today we celebrate a feast day in honor of Saint Hugh of Lincoln. He's the patron saint of swans.
Yesterday I got the Canonically Appointed Robo-Call from the drug store telling me my med prescripto was ready, so I drove up and picked it up. They stuck about 32 coupons into the bag with it, all for stuff I'll never use.
So the paper recycle bin received a contribution.
Nothing much else happened.
And so today our choir sings to help us try to experience the canonically appointed hallucinations about our doctrinarily mandated three-headed sky-zombie. I've never been able to experience these hallucinations no matter how hard I try.
But our fine and worthy clergy people insist I must keep trying.
Signs of life