Today is Low Sunday and the air is filled with the smell of slow cooking pork, which my neighbors have put on their fire pit, and with the sound of chickens, which have escaped the grill. The peacock is strangely silent.
Rain is falling and I reflect on Thomas, who touched the wounds of Christ. "My Lord and my God," he said. My dog, Blue Anselm, doesn't seem too struck by this and dozes on the kitchen floor. He is a natural theologian.
God bless,
LSP
