Busy And Belief

A pretty busy day. After the usual Sunday morning routine, I set off for Wal-Mart about 10. They didn't have the Red Hots I've been looking for on behalf of my younger boy. I could have ordered them, but the postage would be more than the cost. Okay, it wasn't that much, but I'll be damned if I'd pay it. Stopped at the market and got cabbage, apples, blackberries (they had no blues), and carrots. Before lunch, I cut up the cabbage and apples and put them in the slow cooker. 

When I got home and looked on the Internet, which I should have done in the first place. I found that both See's at the mall and Rocket Fizz, in town, carry Red Hots. After lunch, I bused to the latter establishment and there they were! I bought two boxes of the horrid things, but will put them in baggies to send, so I can save on space and weight.

Finally wrote a letter to my great-niece, who's getting married. Actually, I kind of think she's already married, but this will be in the church. I enclosed a copy of my mother's wedding picture and of my parents' marriage certificate, along with a letter wishing them the best.

It was so fiercely windy that items on Leah's balcony upstairs blew into my patio. I got them back to her and she asked if I wanted a nice plant, which I did.

Watched the rest of The Exorcist.  It was interesting on several levels: For one, the acting was superb. Also, I was struck by the fact that this premiered in 1973, 47 years ago, when priests and nuns still wore uniforms. I had vaguely thought that went out after Vatican Two (1962), but obviously not. Of course, my friend next door doesn't wear a habit and, as far as I know, priests don't, either. Come to think of it, I never see priests, unless they're disguised in mufti. I hadn't remembered the strong language used in the movie--not only profanity, but actual blasphemy. Beyond all that, it was an absorbing story. Amazingly, demonic possession was taught and believed by those professing the religion in which I grew up. Did I believe it? Sure.   

Betty called and we talked for a bit. I told her I had talked to Frank and she noted that "he's really out of it." Yes, indeed, and she's right in the same ball park, I'm afraid. Hey, maybe Alzheimer's is not a disease, but the work of the devil.