The Florida Legislature finally "sine die'd", last week, adjourning after a special session on redistricting following the regular session. R. was finally unchained from her desk after several grueling months.
We both had last Friday off, after an eleven-day stretch for me with only Monday off. It was our 32nd wedding anniversary, but all we both wanted was an afternoon nap. Our "32nd anniversary snooze", we joked. Anyway, it was a Lenten Friday, so feasting was not in order.
We had our naps, and made it to evening Mass, followed by a Lenten Light Supper, (grilled cheese sandwich, tomato soup, salad), Stations of the Cross and a Benediction. We planned to dine out on Saturday.
But the next day R. wasn't feeling well, with a sore throat and no appetite. Pollen? We weren't sure. I had pollen symptoms too, an aching head and chest.
I had prepared for Confession, to be ready for Holy Week, so I went to do that at three. I was surprised to find myself among only young people of college age or in their twenties. Father Tim was hearing confessions, a new priest and a young man himself, an ex-Marine. It was good to unburden myself, and to be absolved of my sins.
R. prepared a simple supper of spaghetti and clams, and we listened to Prairie Home Companion, watching afterward The Way to Life on EWTN, about a young man who discerns a vocation on the road to Santiago de Compostela.
My penance was to meditate on the Passion, so I read the Passion narrative in the Gospel of St. Mark. What struck me were the things that seemed beyond the knowledge of the disciples, the anointing of Jesus by the woman with the alabaster jar, the mysterious arrangements for the colt for him to ride into Jerusalem, and for the Upper Room where he held the Last Supper., and the role of Joseph of Arimathea in arranging for his burial.
In the Heat of the Night
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