More marvelous manifestations

Not to be outdone by sporadic appearances of Virgin Mary, (the latest being on an old tired bit of banana), every other fruit and veggie worth its salt is joining the rush to be classified as holy.

Take for example this humble spud. To the uninitiated it appears to be an ordinary common or garden potato, an everyday humdrum example of Solanum tuberosum , but, if you thought this, you would be missing the point entirely. In reality, it’s a miracle.

For this is a Christian potato!

What next .. saintly spinach? beatific beetroot? canonical cucumbers? blessed blueberries? Dearie me, it’s lucky I ordered a new bottle of sherry from the local hostelry, I need a little fortitude while I inspect the rest of my vegetable basket. Heaven only knows what else I might find.

I did have the Virgin Mary in my kitchen once, but I’ve been a little tight-lipped about it after my Council Home Help girl dobbed me in to the Visiting Nurse.

She’s back!!

I’ve been wondering where the BVM has been of late. It’s been a while since she was spotted lounging on a chocolate chip, loitering on a cheese sandwich or gracing a dish of rancid fat with her celestial presence. To tell you the truth I had almost forgotten about heavenly manifestations.

But my Council Home Help Girl, bless her, knows I love to follow the perambulations of the Holy Ones and brought me exciting news this afternoon.

The BVM on a banana chip!

Yes, Holy Mary appeared to Jonathon C. on a bit of dried banana. Jonathon, who very wisely does not divulge his full name, has made no mention as to whether or not he will be auctioning this item.

I had to sit down with a small glass of sherry and a box of kleenex to regain control of myself.

Slightly larger picture
Virgin Mary on a Spud
Virgin Mary in Grill Grunge

I knew my cat was dippy

More than half of all cats over age 15 are bloody senile!

Most, if not all, mammals, can suffer age-related conditions normally associated with people, and in the case of cats, the main difference is that a 15-year-old individual can be compared to an 85-year-old person. (About half of all octogenarians show signs of dementia.)

The Journal of Small Animal Practice states that behaviors associated with senility in cats range from acting disoriented to changes in their social relationships, to shifting sleep habits, inappropriate vocalizing, forgetting commands, breaking housetraining, pacing, wandering, sluggishness, unusual interest or disinterest in food, and decreased grooming and confusion.

Danielle Gunn-Moore, head of the Feline Clinic at the University of Edinburgh’s Hospital for Small Animals, also says “They get confused with things, such as forgetting that they have just been fed.”

So now we know, domestic cats develop Alzheimer’s, just like their owners.

I knew my old moggy was a bit dippy, he’s taken to stealing my fish oil capsules. It’s enough to make me screw the top on my sherry bottle tighter.

Time changes

I get so confused with my modern appliances. Especially when I have to adjust the time. I can change my bedside clock, that’s just winding a few knobs at the back, but I don’t even know how to open my kitchen clock.

And I have just noticed that everything has a little clock in it! The video, the DVD, the burglar alarm, the stove, the hose in the garden and the (new) microwave oven, and I may have to ring up an electrician to come over and adjust my time settings. Time was never so confusing when I was young. Why do they all need to tell me what time it is?

But what actually is time? Does time exist when nothing is changing? Is the future infinite? Was there time before the Big Bang? What role does time play in our reasoning? What are the neural mechanisms that account for our experience of time? Does time exist for beings that have no minds? Does anyone care?

It’s all too much for me, I need a small glass of sherry while I wait for the electrician to come and move my clocks forward. Or is it backward?

Do I seem cruel hearted to you? I had to ask my ne…

Do I seem cruel hearted to you? I had to ask my neighbour to remove a comment from my blog about the Virgin Mary on a Pool Stick. Some frenzied soul slapped down a scathing post accusing me of making fun of and being cruel to the ignorant innocent people who find these amazing apparitions of Mary everywhere. It was even suggested that I invented the whole thing! Let me tell you, I was a trifle shocked and had to sit down with a little glass of sweet sherry.

I assure you I am of a kindly nature, and to show that I didn’t make it up, I include the description from eBay. Word for word. Verbatim. As it is. Well, the first few lines anyway, it rabbits on a bit.

To those who could be interested in this wonderful appearance I will tell them that this is not one more appearance of Virgin Mary and Jesus Christ. This is a fact, which had not occurred before in history, that an object had a similar manifestation. And you will be ocular witnesses of what you will be discovering. I assure you with all humility that is a divine creation, fulfilled with simbology and history

There you go, what could be clearer? You are an ocular witness.

Virgin Mary on a Pool Stick. And by the way, what is a Pool Stick?
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Not cotton-picking fingernails

How do you stop chewing your fingernails, overeating, smoking, and picking your nose? My renter, Ghost Works, has a whole heap of people with questions of this nature. In the case of Lee Redmond, nail-biting should be actively encouraged.

If I had nails like that I wouldn’t be announcing it to the world. It seems she became bored with cutting her nails back in 1979 and decided to grow them just for a jolly lark. “It’s strange how they become you,” she said. “It’s almost like it’s your identity.”. Well it would be, wouldn’t it.

I’ll just have a small glass of sherry and gather the courage to ask my renter a question about long fingernails and toilet paper.

Story Link

Virgin Mary in my kitchen

I noticed this morning that I have two old kitchen towels hanging on the door of my oven which often resemble the Virgin Mary. (The towels, not the oven) If I crouch down and look sideways with one eye shut and slowly scrunch my neck, I can even see a Bleeding Heart of Jesus. Or maybe that’s the beetroot stain.

In any case, my Council Home Help girl is coming today and I must ask her to take a photo with her dirigible camera. Then I will post them for everyone to share.

I have to sit down with a small drop of sherry and think about the possible commercial aspects of manifestation. 

Mysterious Places

I had a lovely comment from that well-known commentator Anonymous who told me that there is a place left in the world where you get good fish and chips. I had to sit down and have a little glass of sweet sherry to celebrate.

And this place is the mysterious Anstruther on the East Neuk of Fife. Anstruther, the Royal Burgh of Kilrenny, Anstruther Easter and Anstruther Wester. That’s in Scotland (to save you the trouble of looking it up.)

Apparently, the little town attracts many visitors during the summer months. So there’s something else that I learnt today, they have Summer in Scotland. See the nice photo of Summer in Scotland to prove it?

This internet invention is opening my eyes to the mysterious parts of the world, like Tuvalu, Long Dong, and the East Neuk of Fife.

Sherry and vegemite

I interrupt this blog to thank the kind young lady at Labyrinth of Learnings, who bought me a nice soothing glass of sherry this morning.

She tells me that scoffing down a meal of fish and chips, the fat-saturated variety, is still a popular pastime where she lives. Of course, the poor dear lives in the bush, and you know what Bush people are like. They haven’t the slightest idea what to eat besides boiled lamb and damper.

Heavens, I don’t think they even have vegemite, it’s found only in those scattered outposts on the bullock run. To show my appreciation, I’m sending the kind thing some vegemite recipes in case she suffers from boils, ulcers or bladder troubles. (I believe bladder problems are rife in the Outback - it’s so far to go to reach a toilet)

Another kindly reader

I interrupt this blog to thank the kindly gentleman from Scotland (I know all about Scotland, I’ve seen the film) who poured me a small glass of sweet sherry.

Well, more like a large glass.

Thanks, dear. Here’s looking up your kilt!

All glasses of sherry are gratefully accepted, I was brought up to receive a gift in a polite and ladylike manner.