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I eventually recovered from my funk. Yesterday was dry and breezy, as I fired up the wringer washer and did some much-needed laundry. My hastily erected clothesline will have to be reinforced at the end post, but it held up OK in the breeze, and the clothes dried quickly. I even got a bunch of planting and weeding done, and carried the rest of the canning jars downstairs without further breakage. Found many of them full of green beans, applesauce, beets, etc. Some spoiled, but most appear to be well sealed and still good to eat! Slept well last night between clean sheets. It is good to be civilized.

Awoke this morning at first light, as usual. I know there's a Catholic church over on the other side of the state park. Don't have a phone to call about Mass times, and still don't have a timepiece, either. But I'm confident there must be a Sunday Mass, and that it wouldn't be at 6:00 am. So, I dig some semi-dress clothes out of the box, get on my bicycle, and hit the road. A brisk chill in the air - I could've worn a heavier jacket, and gloves. I kick it up a notch, pedal harder, generate some heat.

Same pattern as in the garden - I'm soon on automatic pilot, and am passing the 7 or 8 miles lost in my thoughts. This bike ride will settle something for me, too. Much less need for weekend commutes to town if I can bicycle to Sunday Mass.

It's a small church, of contemporary architecture. There are a few cars in the parking lot, and the doors are unlocked. I hear some distant voices as I enter, but see no one in the sanctuary. I settle into a pew halfway toward the back, and relax in the Lord's presence. Presently, three ladies come in, and rehearse some songs. I take this as a sign that, yes, there will be a Mass. At a break in their session, I approach the guitarist to ask.

"Oh, you've got almost an hour," she replies, "Mass is at 8:30."

I thank her, and am about to return to my pew when she adds "You might want to join the men in the kitchen. They're putting on a pancake breakfast after Mass, and they would probably appreciate another hand."

Sure enough, I am soon in an apron, wiping tables, and setting out plates and silverware and exchanging names and small talk and good-humored banter. I have to admit, this is an excellent way to break the ice with new acquaintances. And I get a free breakfast to boot!