The Unbearable Shabbiness of Being  29 August, 2022 Dear and gentle reader: I suppose one could call these the dog days of summer - hot and humid, in a word, unbearable.  Couple that to the fact that I am definitely a cat person, and you may get a glimpse of my loathing of this time of year.  Wed that discontent to the fact that I find myself surrounded by shabbiness, and you will begin to understand the ennui that confronts me at almost every turn. Try as I have, I have been stymied at trying to make this little rectory in which I am doomed to dwell into a home.  It seems that my not-so-gracious ordinary has once again sent me to pastor barely solvent parishes, which might well close their doors in but a few years.  This, after I told him that with my age and health, I am tired of being shifted about.  Ah, the tender pastoral solicitude of the hierarchy.  Really, there is nothing like it. Combine that with a hectoring lay trustee who, with a smi...