A Scriptural Snippet leads Fyodor to cogitate on one of the few topics worth the time and effort, namely, women.

Yesterday's first reading was Proverbs 31: 10-13, 19-20, 30-31:


10
Who shall find a valiant woman? far, and from the uttermost coasts is the price of her.
11
The heart of her husband trusteth in her, and he shall have no need of spoils.
12
She will render him good, and not evil all the days of her life.
13
She hath sought wool and flax, and hath wrought by the counsel of her hands.
19
She hath put out her hand to strong things, and her fingers have taken hold of the spindle.
20
She hath opened her hand to the needy, and stretched out her hands to the poor.
30
Favour is deceitful, and beauty is vain: the woman that feareth the Lord, she shall be praised.
31
Give her of the fruit of her hands: and let her works praise her in the gates.


It just so happens the latest (and the last, I hope) She Who Must Be Obeyed was not with me at Mass yesterday. That was a curse and a blessing.

Why a curse? Because I was not able to squeeze her insanely soft hand in mine during this reading. Hallmark has nothing on Proverbs when it comes to expressing the words in my heart for her. (Memo To The Men: Don't worry, I haven't gone all Alan Alda (Sorry, Mr. Alda, but somewhere along the line you became a cliche.) all of a sudden. The whole Renaissance Man thingee is a mighty burden and sometimes you must make sacrifices.) She would not recognize herself in the Word above, but I do.

I'm not kidding about her hands, either. (This is the part where I cause her to blush and threaten me with violence.) She has the softest skin imaginable. It is really kind of scary and impossible (for me at least) to describe. The best I can come up with by way of analogy is warm viscous (I did not know where that word originated. I love language!) velvet. Only softer.

What makes it even better? She is wildly ticklish, as am I.

Why all the icky personal stuff? Read the passage from Proverbs again. Though she is not my wife, I hope and pray one day she will be. (Memo To Main Squeeze: That was NOT a proposal. IF and WHEN it happens, I'll let you know.)

Verse 30 got me thinking. "Favour is deceitful, and beauty is vain: the woman that feareth the Lord, she shall be praised."

Now, my babydoll is white hot, and should stay that way for quite some time. (I've met her mom.) But even the greatest of beauty is fleeting (except for Grace Kelly, of course.) and I have learned first hand (over and over and over again) that favour is deceitful. In a word, I have learned the most important of lessons the hard way.

I'm no lothario, but I have met my share of ladies over the years, and I want to take this opportunity to recommend (in the strongest possible terms) faithful and orthodox Catholic women.

Let us face facts, guys. We need help and plenty of it. You know it and I know it.

A real woman can work miracles with knuckleheads like us.

And why was Her absence a blessing? The newest "instrument" accompanying the "hymns" at Mass was a rain stick. (I think that's what they call it. It sounds like a couple hundred cockroaches clambering over all the microphones at the same time.) She would have had to listen to me vent my spleen (and several other organs) over this latest bit of Catholic "progress" and I don't like Her to see me that way.