Or at least I intend just now to do this. The weather mages are tut-tutting about the 111 degrees we'll have on Sunday. Eh. It is the feast of Abbot Saint William (Introibo, CE, Wiki) and the second day within the Octave of the Nativity of Saint John the Baptist.
The Introit is from the common of Abbots (which is I think the 'common of confessors not bishops' the way the Liber usualis is most recently arranged), and so is used for several saints' feasts throughout the year. The Gradual infra, Domine, praevenisti eum is also sung for Saint Joseph.
Post Tertiam. I already brought in the trash bin-- the collectors get here at about 0730, most of the time-- so that I don't have to go out again (to collect the mail) until after Phoebus is far gone in his setting for the day. One doesn't like to leave mail in the unlocked box overnight since there are homeless people et alii who will (sometimes) check the boxes. No one sends me envelopes full of cash or negotiable bonds but there's no reason to place temptation in someone's way. The 'improvement' of a lockable mail box is on the landlady's list but am not holding my breath-- all things considered, a roof that doesn't leak, hot and cold running water in at least the bathroom, electricity and Internet access, and a toilet that works are good enough for my 300 a month. And I have already made tuna salad for today's meal.
My blood pressure is tending toward-- what do you call it?-- hyper- something or other (I like Dr A.; he didn't fuss about that vaccine, as I thought he might, he simply mentioned it together with those for shingles and pneumonia, which I 'might also consider': but he tends to speak quite rapidly); am in the range 'high normal', which means no medication but I need to lose weight and eat more healthily. Sigh. One resolution I've taken is to dilute my daily drinks of orange juice and fruit smoothies and lemonade with copious quantities of water. Eh. For a couple of months I ate rice every day-- routine, routine-- which I tired of, eventually, and for the last month I've been eating sandwiches of meat with a few ornaments of vegetables. I reckon it is time to cut out so much bread. I can eat an entire sleeve of e.g. Ritz crackers with my meat and veg without giving it a second thought-- which is bound to be just as bad as four slices of bread. Again, sigh. What I also have resolved, however, is to give up my breakfast toast, as painful as that proved this morning. Am pretty sure that if I had to I could live on hot buttered toast and coffee or tea. 'Eat more healthily.' Dr A. was going on about the glories and wonders of flax seed and flax oil, which I didn't realize until I got back to the laptop is linseed oil, ha. (Spent a happy hour yesterday reading up on linum usitatissimum, and the manufacture of linen, and was assailed by the desire to replace my underclothing and bed-linen with, well, linen things; linen sheets are readily enough available but linen underclothing, eh, not so much. The moment passed.)
Post Nonam. A beautiful afternoon, although 88 degrees is too hot. Just turned the fan to its highest setting, tsk. Read a Commissario Brunetti novel and am now going on to the Iliad, or perhaps Juvenal. Or perhaps another Brunetti.
It is the feast of Saint Thecla (6th century), of Saint Eurosia (8th century), and of Saint Adalbertus 8th century).
V. Et álibi aliórum plurimórum sanctórum Mártyrum et Confessórum, atque sanctárum Vírginum. R. Deo grátias.
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