The human mind seeks patterns, but at present I am unable to resolve the last couple of days into a coherent post. The content would have to include:
the gasping experience of finding a large stock of hydrogen sulphide at the bottom of an innocent-looking bucket
attempts to grasp fine distinctions between the soteriologies of several early fathers
slowly removing what seems to be half a pound of scabs from the enraged guinea-pig afflicted with them
sleeping a lot.
Besides being unable to integrate these events, I am also unable to think how to photograph them. Except for the large pile of scabs of course.
(I’ll let you off.)