When I was a child, I hated reading in the bulletin that a Sunday was designated as “ordinary time.” It meant there was no special holiday, nothing to celebrate or to look forward to. It is only in the past year that I have learned to appreciate ordinary time. There is a comfortable pleasure in days with no surprises, when everything proceeds as it should, no fuss, no rush, no bother. Those days are rare now and I cherish them. What luxury to have a whole peaceful day to write, a cup of coffee on my desk, and a cat on my lap! Uninterrupted time to read is even better! I guess things have turned around. What was once ordinary is now unique and treasured, a small oasis of quiet, in a constant flurry of activity.