Wednesday Is For the Garden, All Covered In Ice
"Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. It's been ten days since my last post."
"But it's not all my fault, Father...in fact, I think you ought to call God down here so we can have a little chat -- just the three of us -- before you dole out the penance. That would only be fair..."
"What do you mean it's not about 'fair'? It's always about fair. Just ask anyone with a grievance, or anyone under the age of eight, or any misunderstood victim of this or that...it
"First thing, right off: pain isn't fair. Nor are pain medications. Sure they kill the pain, but have you ever tried the side effects?"
"Ummm...no, I don't think I want to give up the pain medication just yet. So maybe we'll skip that one. But how about all that ice on the ground? I can't even step outside without the risk of undoing all the surgery on my knee...is that fair, I ask you?"
"Well, yes...the house is warm and cozy. The living room's a bit chilly, though...we never did insulate it that well. Ah, no. I don't have to sit in there. And you're right, that's what God made sweaters for. I was just saying..."
"Yes, it's true. The ice on the ground does a good job of killing off some of the more obnoxious insects we had last summer. You have a point there...oh, never mind about calling God into this. He'd be even worse than you. So we may as well deal with this ourselves..."
"Now about my sins...I hope you understand what a horrible childhood I had. We need to get that straight first..."