Welcome to "The Gods Are Bored!" Please, have some pie. Oh yes, of course you can have a second slice! I'm flattered.
You know what I should never do? I should never think to myself, "Hey, it's a pretty afternoon. Maybe I'll be able to sit on the porch and read for a few hours."
Yeah. In another life. Got back from a picnic, message from Cat Lady at the shelter. Litter of FIVE needs immediate attention! Ten days old.
I drove right over and took custody. Call me a sap. Go ahead, you're right. They're full of cat formula now, sleeping at my feet in a little furry ball.
The picnic I attended, with reluctant daughter The Spare, was an annual state-wide Children of the American Revolution get-together. This year it was held at a charming plantation house straight out of Pride and Prejudice. You could almost feel Jane and Elizabeth in the staircase, gossiping about Mr. Bingley. Spare, fresh off seeing Becoming Jane, simply loved the house.
It's typical at these things that some D.A.R. Poobah requests that everyone write a cheery note to a serviceperson who is hospitalized in Germany. "Even if it's something short, like 'God Bless You.'"
We at "The Gods Are Bored" have had enough of that.
I walked up to the Poobah, and said this:
"I worship an alternate faith. I understand from reading the newspaper and the Internet that there are servicepeople who also worship alternate faiths. They do not have adequate chaplain services. Can I write a note addressed to those of these varied faiths?"
They say if you live long enough you will see everything. She handed me one dozen cards and told me to have at it.
If there are servicepeople lying battered in some German hospital, they can soon expect cards, hand-written, that cover Wicca, Druidism, Paganism (general), and Asartu. (Hope I spelled it right this time.)
"May you find peace in the Four Quarters."
"May you be guarded by your Gods and Goddesses."
"May your ancestors watch over you as you recuperate."
"From the Merlin of Berkeley Springs."
Twelve times writing that, I got cramps in my hand.
And as I was writing the D.A.R. mom closest to me said, "What should I write in this card? 'Sorry you wasted your life? Maybe things will be different after November?'"
Krikey. If Dubya's lost the D.A.R., he's lost the war!