A cold, rainy Wednesday morning . . .

. . . and, I'd much rather have breakfast in bed.

Or, in this case, make breakfast my bed and stay there until spring weather comes and stays for more than just three or four days.

Off to a veritable whirl of a day. With the change of season often comes change in health status of the fragile elderly and those who are fighting illnesses with terminal implications.

I seem to have entered the Season of the Very Sick and Dying, sometimes also known as the Hospice Season. It would seem that I am to earn my credential in higher education before I get a chance to frame the sheepskin and hang it on my wall.

So, if I'm not blogging a whole lot, you'll know how to find me. I'll be that blur in the hallway and on the streets of Chatham.

I know. However will the War against Anglican Terrorism proceed without me? However will the "all-Anglican-drama-all-the-time" unfold without scintillating comment and keen observation and dry humor?

Not to worry. Go visit Susan Russell's "Inch" or Mark Harris or Fr. Jake or OCICBW, or Episcopal Cafe or anyone of a hundred sites who report this stuff with more frequency than I do anyway.

In the meantime, pray for me and I'll pray for you.

Off I go, then, to 7 AM Weekly Healing Eucharist. I'll keep you in my prayers.