Mag 31: Nunsensical

I do this every time, oh Lord when will I learn?

It draws me to its beauty I come to the window to view its glorious splendor and BAM!

I forget that the old oak tree has been removed and that one ray of sun reflects off of Sister Mary’s pie plate and right into my eyes. [I told her there was no need to scare off the birds from her garden this time of year.]

Now all I see is spots! When will I learn dear Lord when? If I move I may trip if I don’t someone may wonder what I am doing here.

“Oh Sister Claire… there you are. I was wondering where you had gone!”

RATS!