my congregation turned mean on Sunday. Many appeared for church dressed in Husky sweaters or Husky jackets or Husky polo shirts or Husky ball caps. Mother Cynthia, my assisting priest, tied a black mourning band on my left bicep, over the sleeve of my alb, and told people not to be too hard on the old padre while he was in mourning. The organist did an improvisation on "Bow down to Washington" as a postlude.
HA! Oh, how FUNNY! I can picture it now!

there is something very organic and real about curling that I really enjoy.
the opportunity and perfect, inalienable, excuse which it presents to guzzle whiskey like it was going out of fashion.
 Uh...huh.