Filling the Thank-Full: Second Sunday in October
Three disparate things from the past two days for which I give thanks.
Vomit a little
Satan in Devil’s Ink: Blog from the Basement Office by Jeffry C. Pugh on humans: “Many of them pursue what what they laughingly call “the good life.” The truly ‘good life’ is not found where they think it is, though, and the fact that they could even have one makes me vomit a little in my mouth.” p. 100
This book is a a joy. I may write more about it another time. But just so you know, it is a “blog” written by Satan for the edification of his minions, a contemporary homage to C.S. Lewis’s Screwtape Letters but quite a bit more left of center and funnier, though it might just be that it has been so long since I’ve read Screwtape that I don’t remember the humor. I’m considering recommending the book to some of my non-religious, politically active friends because the social and political commentary has a beautifully nasty bite. The kind they would appreciate.
We had to rush one of our cats to the vet on Saturday afternoon. Turns out that his urine has a high PH, which creates crystals that feel like sand as they try to pass through his urethra. Painful and unpleasant and if untreated, can lead to life threatening blockages. Luckily it is easily treatable, though he’ll have to be on a special diet for the rest of his life. On the way back home- two hundred dollars poorer, with special cat food and a couple of days worth of kitty dope, a drugged up cat mewing piteously about being in the car and a bit giddy with relief, things got silly. My husband yelled at other drivers, “Get out of our way, don’t you know, we’ve got a kitty with penis crystals.” I laughed and laughed and laughed. It got more absurd from there. Penis Crystals now is a running gag.
I am grateful that my cat is okay, and thankful for a small silver gag lining. Because now, either one of us can work the phrase “penis crystals” into a conversation and cause no end of amusement.
I sit in a darkened sanctuary before the Compline service. Candles are being lit. Besides the people setting up, I am the only one inside. I hear voices in the courtyard,stragglers from the regular 6:00 service catching up on a week’s worth of news and gossip. Compline won’t start for another twenty minutes. I sit in this darkened space tapping quietly on my iPad, writing this moment into words. The music to come, a Capella singing and chanting, will be lovely and at times breathtaking. But being almost alone in this quiet- quiet enough that the creaks of the door, the swish of pants are significant- large, dark space, this is magnificent.