of demons and heat and blueberry oppression, oh my

i want to pull my notes out and go over what fr. chuck talked about during last night's lecture; suffice it say i was sufficient *freaked* and when it started to get a little wierd (as per my husband) after we had listened to the woman who gave testimony about the "friend of a friend's second cousin who was delivered from the demon of tobacco addiction," we left.

again, i have 7 pages of notes. i am the scribe. i will produce bits and pieces of what was discussed, but again, i only like to give anything attached to the word *demonic* not to much of my thought process, although i know it is very real indeed. maybe later, hmm?

so real, in fact, after almost 6 years of trying to have a priest come and bless our restaurant, fr. chuck, the priest who gave last night's lecture, has agreed to meet me at the cafe at 9:30 a.m. monday. he said yes, after i have asked four others to come and things "came up" and they never showed.

well, now.

it was flippin' hot in the kitchen today. think sauna. think cotton pants, clinging to the legs. think sweaty sweat that i hate to do. think misery. who is the patron saint of sweating? i know the patron saint of cooks is st. lawrence and as the story goes, he was so willing to embrace Christ in heaven, that he did not mind the pain from the fire of his martyrdom, and indeed, he found the strength to tell his executioners "turn me over. i am done on this side." gotta love a man who is literally under fire with a sense of humor.

i had no humor today. none. i felt hot, tired, cranky, oppressed. and slammed. we got slammed for lunch. i won't go into detail how hot it was by the grill. i promise.

one last note on blueberries: had request for blueberry pancakes and couldn't find my berries, anywhere. we told the woman who ordered them who was literally despondent and chose the banana hotcakes, in lieu of.

i located the box cleverly labeled "cultivated blueberries" and in a show of grandiose mea-culpa-ing, dashed myself over to the table with blueberries in cute dessert dish and said, "i am so sorry -- i just found these!"

"no, that's quite alright."

"i know you really wanted them..."

in a tone that could only be declared as *snotty,* she replied "dear, they are clearly better when they are cooked IN the PANCAKES, and NOT on the SIDE!"

through my teeth and sweet, sweaty smile, i replied "uh, you'll take the berries, m'kay?" put them on the table and walked away.

Lord, have mercy on me and bless her and if you wouldn't mind, a little break in the heat. in the sweet name of Jesus, who had a Mighty Hand in the creation of blueberries and all that is holy,

amen :)