Several veterans are finishing their last year at the school where I work. It is slowly dawning on me that I will have absolutely no one left with whom to commiserate next fall. I am going to miss a lot of really wonderful people, and be very lonely besides.
The Presbyterian Church is gearing up for the bi-annual General Assembly (our national representative body) debate on ordination standards which means, essentially, on gay and lesbian ordination. And a Texas Presbytery is vigorously debating one of its church's willingness to permit an atheist to become a member. There is so much acrimony in the air on both issues that I'm thinking I should just return to the practice of law, where the adversarial process is at least well rewarded from a financial perspective.
A couple of days ago I removed a dead cat from the street where it had been hit and placed it gently on the tree lawn, hoping that its humans would find it more or less intact. I did the exact same thing at Christmas when I left a friend's party and discovered what turned out to be her back yard neighbor's cat in the street. All because when our lovely cat was hit three years ago, the body ultimately returned to us was so badly smashed that my heart still breaks when I think of him, and I would never want someone else to see their cat that way. I would never want another cat to be that way.
The Lovely Camp Counselor left a message this morning when I had forgotten my phone -- apparently she and her co-counselor were up all night and she was about to collapse from exhaustion. But that's all I know so I am left to wonder: Homesick camper? Catfight among pre-pubescent girls? Someone sick?
The Tiffany window is great, though.