Six (almost) months away and I find being back in my condo it's as if I never left. It's certainly not what I expected. Perhaps it shouldn't be a surprise because I have lived here for ten years. I'm prepping for what my father euphemistically called "One of the little joys of life." 😀 Both my parents bequeathed to me a sense of humor. Mostly that sense of humor has been helpful to me though on occasion it has gotten me into trouble. While the prep isn't very pleasant my overwhelming feeling is one of gratitude because the procedure has almost certainly save my life.To that end I offer this poem.
Thanksgiving
Originally from the Carmina Gadelica III, 31
Taken from Esther de Waal, editor, The Celtic Vision (Liguori, MO: Liguori/Triumph, 1988, 2001), p. 18–19
Thanks to Thee, O God, that I have risen today,
To the rising of this life itself;
May it be to Thine own glory, O God of every gift,
And to the glory of my soul likewise.
O great God, aid Thou my soul
With the aiding of Thine own mercy;
Even as I clothe my body with wool,
Cover Thou my soul with the shadow of Thy wing.
Help me to avoid every sin,
And the source of every sin to forsake;
And as the mist scatters on the crest of the hills,
May each ill haze clear from my soul, O God.
Takk for alt,
Al
...and a random photo 😅
Posted to Facebook. Thai lawnmowers. Why did the cattle return to the marijuana field? It was the pot calling the cattle back.
1 comment:
Truly a humorous post on the picture! Clearly, nothing got in the way of your sense of humor.
Blessings, this and every day,
Marilyn
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