Mucking Out

I now know how Hercules felt about the Augean stables – I had to get up on a teetering ladder, itself atop a balcony about two storeys in the air, in order to clear out the spouting, full of stinky foul leaves and twigs from the adjacent jacaranda tree.  The down pipe itself was blocked up, and so the spouting had a most putrid odour, no doubt produced by a slimy microbial slurry infesting the watery mess.  There were even two full-grown weeds growing hydroponically!

After scooping out three buckets' worth of slops, I managed at last to get a hose up from the garden below, and blast out the remaining direful detritus, unblocking the downpipe.  All that remained to do was to go down to the drain underneath, unblock that too (providing the garden bed with rich fertiliser indeed, not dissimilar from ordure by smell at least), and then have a good shower and scrub, leaving my clothes in the laundry for a thorough washing.  Only after scrubbing my hands with several different solutions did the appalling whiff of horse-dung finally seem to depart.

This was the sort of unlovely job that Dad always did, but he's far too far gone to do anything anymore.

Earlier to-day, the extended family had all gone out to visit my aged father for his 84th birthday at the nursing home.  Poor Dad! he was hardly able to speak, smile, eat, drink, or even just keep awake.  Parkinsons disease is vile.  Please pray for him in his misery.

For tea to-night I consoled myself with a pot of paté spread on bread.  I think I'll now go grab a beer too...

Much earlier, this morning, I had been at Mass at the Church of the Apostles, and then went to Confession afterwards as is my Saturday custom.  It was nice to hear Mass in honour of Our Lady on Saturday; the celebrant was notably pious, and even used the Roman Canon.  I feel so much better for having also been to Mass yester-day (when I brought along my old Missal, and read the prayers of the Mass of the Stigmata of St Francis).  

Receiving Holy Communion daily is an inestimable blessing, even the greatest benefit I reckon.  I recall one convert explaining that he had read in the Acts of the Apostles that the first Christians met daily for "the breaking of bread", and that he therefore sought out whatsoever church still did so – hence his becoming a Catholic.

Just some random thoughts.