Greetings, my fellow port swillers and a good Quinquagesima Sunday to you! A balmy six degrees above zero with a howling northwest wind were waiting for ol’ Robbo this morning when he went out to clear off the snow dumped by last evening’s squalls on the Port Swiller driveway. Although the sky was clear and the sun out, these conditions did not encourage me to dawdle at my work.
Ol’ Robbo had another of his bizarro dream specials last evening. The story shifted around a lot, but at its climax I found that I was Lt. Worf and I had just discovered irrefutable proof that the proprietress of an English seaside hotel had attempted to poison my friends and me by putting arsenic in our tea.
However, as I swept through the door of her office in a towering wrath and prepared to deliver my devastating J’accuse!, I suddenly realized the absurdity of the situation and burst into laughter. Indeed, I laughed so hard that I woke myself up, and even kept laughing for a few moments after I was awake.
This happens to me every now and again and is without a doubt one of the most delightful sensations I know. I like to think of it as an echo of the joy one must experience in Heaven.