Amid the quiet of the last few days, a friend wrote in to ask if this scribe "took a boat" back. Though that wasn't the case, as things turned out, one would've really come in handy on returning -- I walked down to the desk early Saturday to start hashing out the wind-down of an eventful week, only to find the basement flooded.
No storm, at least this time -- the washer just overflowed... but the cleanup took the weekend's writing time with it -- and in its wake, what's normally the office is hidden under things still needing to dry out. (All of it, perhaps, God's way of being made to shut up a little longer than initially hoped.)
To be sure, one of the posts on deck will have some thoughts on the Blogosphere in the wake of last week's Vatican meeting on the new interwebs. Still, much as we could go on talking about the cyber-world all day, real life intervenes sometimes... and good thing it does -- because things would be pretty boring without it, no?
Lastly, to the kindly priest who apparently told your narrator's godfather that he was feeling as if he'd lost his "north star," no worries, but thanks for the thought. That said, even if the precise day remains to emerge, it's worth recalling that a certain hour of big stuff is soon to befall us... and given how the moment's being rather frantically anticipated, well, we've all gotta be sure to not be pooped out when it comes to pass, don't we now?
As ever, more to come... for now, though, as a sneak peek of what's in the pipeline, here's a taste of one of Beatification Week's more poignant moments -- 1am Sunday at the "White Night" vigil in a packed, darkened S. Agnese in Agone on Piazza Navona, where most of the pilgrims stayed awake and sang, but some who had come in with no place to stay slept sitting up against the walls:
Today and always, gang, thanks for your time, goodness and patience... and, per usual, again, here goes nothin'.