Life is so amazing! There are a multitude of things which are beautful and awesome and wonderful—Sunrise this morning was fire in the sky, the wind last night was Wendigo between my ribs, and this blueberry on my lips is actually a grape.
Things I'd like to say soon:
Well, second service.
My kitten is a killer. I have a cat, unfixed, which means that from time to time I get a batch of kittens. Cute little furballs which grow up and about the time they're not cute anymore they disappear and never come back. My mind knows that cougars and coyotes find them tasty, while my heart knows that they go on in beatific life. Silly heart.
Anyway, this batch may not disappear. The other day as I was loading some firewood onto a trailer when I saw one of my kittens—Mild, a tabby-orange kitten with swirly patterns down the sides—dragging something. Being familiar with the kitten, I didn't think much of it. Until she got closer.
It was a rabbit. A full-grown rabbit. My kitten has slain a full-grown rabbit. Over the next 16 hours, the three kittens and Tortice their mama ate the rabbit.
I'm not sure that these kittens will ever disappear. I may start finding the coyotes and the cougars, dead, lying on my front doorstep.
I'm going to start carrying my machete, just in case they ever turn on me.
Also, some of the young men who go to church with me are doing an accountability thing on Thursdays. It's very encouraging—and it uses a rather simple formula to spark relationships. The youth pastor (who was just hired at the church) brought it with him from his previous job at a Christian camp. It's called P-PAIN. And it has nothing to do with cranberry juice.
Anyway, it's very encouraging. I would encourage everybody to get into something like this. Ask me if you're interested in the questions, or I'm sure I'll post more on P-PAIN later.
Sidenote: Pastor is announcing right now that in Revelations, at the end of the world, an angel will be the mediator between Christians and God, an angelic high-priest. Oh, cancel that. The angel is just a symbol of Christ, not the actual mediator. Oh, whew. Heresy missed by that much.
Um, yeah, so last night I passed out at the bar.
It's not something I'm proud of, (I've always wanted to say that) but kinda funny. I go to the local bar, Turbo's, because it's the only place in town that makes burgers worth anything. As it was Valentine's, most of the people at the bar were single, lonely, bitter, and trying to avert it all with chemicals—I was rather unhappy with the table next to me, they were smoking heavily. And I was suffering from the secondhand smoke.
I started getting very warm under my collar, down my arms, clammy sweat, nausea, feeling very confined by my jacket, agony. I decided to get to the bathroom, just in case. As I passed the lady's room, I stopped remembering things and came to a few seconds later (I hope it was only a few seconds!) and finished slipping into the bathroom.
I didn't end up throwing up, but it wasn't pleasant.
Later I was talking to Becca (my Valentine), and she looked it up online. She blames it on the secondhand smoke. I agree, but think the overall bitterness in the room probably didn't help. And the fact that they were showing a Peanuts Valentine Special on the TVs seemed to be taken as an insult.
So yeah, I guess I've passed out at the bar now.
Mkay. Pastor's wrapping up his second sermon now, I'd better get to paying attention.
Happy Valentine's Day!
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