Plantagenet Cherokee

This MacBook has innumerable font choices, making it interesting to leave Helvetica and try a different font from time to time. CaringBridge rejected it but if Blogger picks it up this morning’s font of choice is Plantagenet Cherokee. Never heard of it but it’s a serif type. Who knows whence these odd font names come? Jeremy knows. Jeremy also can distinguish between a good font and an evil font.

Yesterday was my four month checkup at Bay Cardiology. Amiodarone had been prescribed because of the ventricular fibrillation episode in Cleveland. Because of that episode no caffeine. Because of the med no red wine. At the checkup the amiodarone was dropped and both red wine and decaf coffee (which has trace amounts of caffeine) went back on the approved list. One chairside companion this early hour is a cup of coffee for the first time since January, four months, which is twice long enough to try selling oneself on a glass of orange juice as a satisfactory substitute for that first cup of coffee in the morning. Yes, decaf, but the jolt is not needed and any taste difference between caf and decaf escapes me. Whole beans and my fancy coffeemaker are back, which in Easter Season is good for a Hallelujah of Many Colors.

My other companion this morning is a 24-hour heart monitor to gather data, because the heart’s ejection fraction on yesterday’s echocardiogram was still 35%, not changed since October, not changed since Cleveland. Normal apparently is 50% to 70%. The monitor is gathering data to verify the echo and help the cardiologist decide between more meds and a defib pacemaker. No activity restrictions were imposed though, telling me it’s OK to change my sermons from ten minutes back to forty-five minutes. 

At a diocesan clergy conference years ago our presenter was a British bishop of the Church of England who told us blunt and frank that if we were not preaching forty-five minutes we had no business wearing the collar. Linda always times me though, and even twenty minutes is twice her patience factor. If mama ain’t happy nobody ain’t happy, so my sermon goal is ten to twelve minutes. Checked my Easter Day sermon on the HNEC website yesterday and it was 9 minutes 16 seconds. Our ten-thirty sermons are now being recorded and it’s clear that enunciation needs work: some words and syllables slip away. 

TGIF. My prayer is that your Friday is good even though Judy is changing the weather from deliciously springlike back into hot and muggy.

Pax

Tom