Pay no attention
Today would be the Feast of the Most Holy Name of Jesus, according to my old missal; though it will be celebrated tomorrow according to my parish bulletin. I try to avoid staying up to date in missals, the most recent up here in the High Doganate having been printed fifty-six years ago, somewhere abroad. But there are too many Bugninisms already in this 1962 recension. I find a 1939 more reliable, though I keep a few much older, for security and clinging purposes.
I should also like to mention that it is my 800th birthday, measured in Full Moons. (I was born under a Full Moon, almost to the minute, and am thus a genuine lunatick, not a fake one like so many others.)
Was watching it in the western sky as it descended, earlier this morning. Superb clear sky, except some light brushstrokes presenting as grey eyebrow clouds, by way of surreal decoration. As I discovered upon stepping out, it is still rather chilly … for a January.
I am taking a few days off, from my excessive writing. But gentle reader will recall that I am a graphomaniac, too, hence this little slip. Pay no attention.