Greetings, my fellow port swillers!

My apologies for the relative lack of posties over the past few days.  The fact of the matter is that ol’ Robbo was home alone with the eldest gel whilst Mrs. R took the younger two up to Conneckticut to visit grandparents one last time before the end of the summah.  Seventy-two plus hours going mano a mano with a fourteen year old gel, and one of an intensely mulish disposition at that, is……not conducive to creativity.  At least, not wholesome creativity.  I confess I’m still feeling somewhat drained this morning.  Thank Heaven the cavalry is on its way back.

Speaking of the end of summah, as I glanced idly out the window of Port Swiller Manor Saturday afternoon, I suddenly realized that the sunlight looked different on the trees.  This is one of those signals of the change of seasons that ol’ Robbo looks for and relishes every year.

Saturday afternoon was, in fact, about the last time I had the opportunity to actually see sunlight, as it clouded over in the evening and has stayed that way ever since.  Indeed, it bucketed rain most of yesterday.  Again, not the showers and storms of high summah, but instead a more pre-autumnal kind of drenching.   Too bad I didn’t get the grass cut, but there it is.

Can you sense that ol’ Robbo is looking forward to the fall?

As I came out of Mass yesterday afternoon, it was absolutely pouring.  I noticed one of the schola, a little old lady, standing gloomily under the porch sans umbrella and calculating how wet she was going to get dashing across the parking lot to the robing room.  Since I carry a full-sized bumbershoot myself, I offered to, as it were, give her a lift.  As we walked, she asked me what I thought of the announcement, made during the Mass, that going forward the plan is to cut out both the Asperges Me and the English reading of the Gospel in order to save time.  (Father S claims that between the over-sized 10:30 Mass and various afternoon baptisms and the like, the noon TLM is proving to be a real squash.)   I said I thought it too bad and seemingly to cheapen things.  At this my companion’s eyes began to glitter and she started rattling off a whole list of Things They Do Wrong at our church.   I found myself inwardly delighted listening to such goodly rad-trad screediness.

Baseball affithionados will be aware that Robbo’s beloved Nationals start a critical series against the second-place Braves tonight which, if we win it, could prove a major kybosh of their effort to catch us.  It’s going to be a white-knuckled couple of nights.  GO, NATS!!!