Going to Purgatory
It's raining; it's windy. It's spring. The bees are all inside the hive; they've got some jobs to do -- being bees, they probably have MANY jobs to do -- but I can see a lot of them hanging out in the entry, discussing the weather. Any minute they can fly, they're out of there.
I'm pleased to find that I'm going to purgatory (the place from whence you don't go to hell). My only problem here is that by behaving myself better and better, a little (very little) each year, I've now got my health to the point that, according to insurance programs online, I'm likely to survive another 40 years at least, unless I get hit by a bus. This is a long time in which to practice keeping one's temper, alas. Especially if you've got mine.
On the other hand, if I'm to believe The Castle of Perseverance, all I need to do is croak out "mercy!" right before I run out of breath, and I'll be ok.
It's good to have a plan.
(Thanks to Fr. Bryce Sibley for the Purgatory link.)
I'm pleased to find that I'm going to purgatory (the place from whence you don't go to hell). My only problem here is that by behaving myself better and better, a little (very little) each year, I've now got my health to the point that, according to insurance programs online, I'm likely to survive another 40 years at least, unless I get hit by a bus. This is a long time in which to practice keeping one's temper, alas. Especially if you've got mine.
On the other hand, if I'm to believe The Castle of Perseverance, all I need to do is croak out "mercy!" right before I run out of breath, and I'll be ok.
It's good to have a plan.
(Thanks to Fr. Bryce Sibley for the Purgatory link.)
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