Martha, Martha, sollicita es, et turbaris erga plurima. . .

Well, the funeral was double-booked. The mortuary booked two pipers so Blessed John Soreth was short-changed in his blog-mention for naught. Very annoying in one sense, i.e., I could have used the money. On the other hand, it was so hot and humid in the highland rig that I was moderately happy to pass the playing on to someone else.

And Someone, in response to much prayer, has turned down the heat. The humidity is still high for this part of the world but the temperature today is largely bearable. The weather guesser says the weather system causing our 100°+ thermometer readings is heading east. I thought those east of us were already sweltering; apparently they're due for more.

And this morning, oh this morning the admonitions of the apostle regarding custody of the tongue were ignored with woeful consequences. When asked if I had any appointments today, instead of nodding and hauling the pipes out to the park to at least get some practice in, I very unwisely, indeed negligently, allowed as how I seemed to be free today. And thus did Saturday pass, carrying bags and parcels and following SWMBO through one of Orange County's finest malls.

And today was the feast of St Martha, who was "careful and . . . troubled about many things" and learned that only one thing is necessary.