Saint Agatha

Today, 4 February, is the Feast Day of Saint Agatha. She is the patron saint of bell founders. Don't you want to know why? It's a gruesome story. Because she rejected the advances of Consul Quintian - this all happened in the third century - he had her tortured, which included cutting off her breasts. She is often depicted in art carrying them on a tray, and because of their supposed resemblance to bells, she became the protectress of bell founders. It is believed that their resemblance also to round loaves led to the custom of blessing bread in church on her feast day. Today is also the Feast Day of the twenty-six Christian martyrs of Japan who were crucified in Nagasaki in 1597 on the orders of the Shogun of Nagasaki, Hideyoshi.

And you thought the fourth of February was just a day like any other.

Grand Unified Theory

I think it's high time the media developed their own Grand Unified Theory, equivalent to the GUT which will incorporate gravity, relativity and quantum mechanics.
Let's bring all the horror stories and conspiracy theories together in one glorious GUT. I offer the following headline as a start:

To my organ

I wish to apologise publicly to the organ which has given me, and continues to give me, the greatest pleasure in my life.
It seems to rise uncomplainingly to the demands I put on it, and only occasionally gives me cause for concern when I have, wittingly or otherwise, abused it.
At the moment, it is quiescent. I think I have temporarily satisfied it, but I know it will back in a few hours, pulsing insistently and forcing me to feed its appetite yet again. One way or another.
I dread the day when it will revolt, when it will finally reject the demands I make upon it. After all, it's been firing on all cylinders for seventy years, and the time must come when all it will tolerate will be bread and milk. No more red meat and red wine. Ah well, I suppose I've sown my wild oats, in a manner of speaking, and have no cause to complain if and when it finally shuts down.
Funny, it's been my faithful organ all these years, and yet I have never actually set eyes on the damned thing.

Tough Guys

Did you ever see the movie, Tough Guys? With Burt Lancaster and Kirk Douglas? Well, if not, get a copy and watch it, especially if you are over a "certain age".
The thesis of the film is that there is no place for old people in western society any more, but the way it is demonstrated is both poignant and funny.
I won't spoil the plot for you, but I can tell you that it reminds me of what my son advised if I start to feel that I have become too old to cut the mustard:
"Dad, buy a 1000cc Kawasaki motorbike....

Then, line up 22 London double-decker buses...

Finally, put a ramp at one end, and phone the Guiness Book of Records....."

I like win-win propositions.

Fencing master

The fence panel is restored! LH Post unwobbled, RH post de-broken, panel screwed in place, sight of neighbour's dustbin and compost heap banished forever, or until the next typhoon. It was a struggle but I persisted.
My osteopath says he should have me back to normal by midsummer.

Choice

If you want a daily tonic, visit Randy Glasbergen's website.

Rabbits!

This morning, as I awoke to the realisation that it was the first of the month, I shouted "Rabbits!" Of course there was nobody to hear me, and my sleep had been dreamless, bereft of sweethearts or trainsets, but I shouted it anyway.
Because you have to.
Shout "Rabbits!", that is.
On the first day of each month.
At least, that's what my mother told me.
And, if it is to be effective, it must be the FIRST THING YOU SAY.
Otherwise, you will be deprived of the luck that shouting rabbits on the first day of the month will bring you.

How many daft superstitions do you still observe?