Sunday

 It's Sunday and I've absolutely nothing planned. No Mass (went to the vigil last night), no shopping, no dinner to cook (K goes into Wellington on Sunday).

Just potter about all day. My sweet Loraine ( Nat King Cole ) is visiting next weekend so I need to get the place ship shape. Actually it's pretty good as it is; maybe just properly iron and store my clothes and cut the grass.

Her friend has a birthday lunch next Sunday. I've been invited to that lunch. 

Hang on, I'll just get another coffee... let that sink in...

ten minutes pass

Just been thinking about incomprehensible sermons see here; though I'm more  thinking about the involuntary ones where the pastor has not mastered English (generally as a second language) or/and has a speech defect. It reminds me of the king with no clothes situation. The pastor gives a long, long, long sermon and thinks he is doing wonderfully but everyone is hearing ",,and wen the sholly sirit cumes flabberlawla flengolater ya most be reddy to raply raspind...". It amazes how polite people are. The poor pastor finally says "amen" and walks from the pulpert with a big smile and there will be echoed a few "amens" and then complete silence. Not a single "what the f*** was that about?" muttered under the breath to a neighbour. Just stand and straight into the creed.

Better go... the sun is up and I have my sheets to hang out.

Have fun and don't sin by not going to church on Sunday (or the evening before).