This is proof positive in my mind of the non-existence of any sort of deity: godless lesbian enters "holy" building; nothing happens. Ok, so my logic isn't flawless. But! It happened again.
When my grandfather (0ther side of the family) died recently, I not only attended the service - in a church, mind you - I *read* there. At the alter. From the bible (the least offensive of the readings from which I was told I could choose, which pissed off my best cousin, because she got left with crappy, sexist ones). And, again, the (non) miracle occurred - no fire nor brimstone rained down on me, the church still stood after my reading - with my atheist father in the building, too, so you know it *could* have been bad. Since there were two of us among the faithful - double smiting.
Anyway. That was all a roundabout way to say that when I went to church with my grandmother that once, there were many readings from - gasp - the bible. And you know? When god speaks to you, as he spoke to all those guys in the Old Testament - Moses and them - he will say, for example, "Moses?" or for another example, "Starrhill Girl?" And the correct response, as I learned that day with my grandmother, is "here I am." Because clearly, god's Old Testament omniscience didn't extend to actually *seeing* where his people were.
So here I am. Not blogging much because I am going to be writing conference reports for my parent-teacher conferences next week.
Here are the bird questions:
- Why would a collection (collective?) of birds hang out around a nest from last spring?
- Should I leave said nest where is it so that said birds can do whatever it is they might be needing to do there?
- Or, should I take prune down the butterfly bush which holds said nest as planned? That motherfucker is big, yo. The bush, not the nest.
CD 19, 4dpo. Hang tight, y'all, the crazy last week of the 2ww wait is about to start.