God surely does bless his church through the world, just as DF Jane often reminds me.
The Cat leaps onto the counter in eager expectation of his daily Pepcid he knows to be the precursor to his first juicy fresh can of Fancy Feast of the day. The Cat is fat and happy, having eaten on the dining room table in the shadow of our newly framed 19th-century engravings of George Wishart, Nicholas Ridley, and Philippus Melanchton. All this to Mozart’s Piano Quartets. So what ails me in my domestic burrito?
I am troubled by the missing sense of history in the young. The lovely young woman who framed our engravings called them “cool photos.” To her, Daguerre and Luther might as well be contemporaries. She did an excellent job framing, and that is the trouble–it is possible to do an excellent job and have no idea what you are doing. So once again, I invoke a worldling, Pintar, and say, “ah, well.”