Can you do that?!

There was wine. Candles. Flowers. Long walks under the sunshine. Time spent sitting near a grotto. A long Sunday drive in the country.

Happy 6 month anniversary to me....sans Seth the Southern Charmer.

If you consider getting tipsy on blackberry wine and playing excessive amounts of Super Mario World on "our" wii a successful 6 month anniversary, then yes, I did celebrate accordingly, minus the man that was 50% cause for the celebration. 

But before I restrained myself from throwing the classic controller across the room when one of King Koopa's evil cronies got me for the five bazillionth time, I decided to take advantage of the past 6 months of blessings and took a drive to Holy Hill. Where there were candles and flowers and sunshine and Sunday driving.

And a bit of shock n' awe. 

Sitting at the Lourdes Grotto, thinkin' and prayin' about my man friend and what direction our relationship was headed, I came face to face with something I have never ever seen before in my entire life.

For anyone that's been in that area of Holy Hill, you know that at the grotto there are two faucets that dispense holy water. Visitors can buy a small plastic container for $1.42 in the gift shop and fill it at the grotto. Bam! Portable holy water.

Back to me and my "Holy Mary, I miss my boyfriend" prayers.

So I'm sitting there. Praying. When a group of tourists comes up and fills their Aquafina water bottles up at the Holy Water spouts.

And then they began to drink.  

I'm not talking a sip here and a sip there. I'm talking it's hot out, time to not just wet my whistle, but drown it out completely. 

One of my best friends in high school used to find it amusing to find my mom's supply of holy water and threaten to drink it. He never did. Either out of respect for my family and our faith or for fear that his sinful intestines would burn if touched by the stuff.

I am of course kidding. Sort of. 

Watching the pilgrims Sunday, my thoughts went immediately from all my special intentions to high school memories of screaming, "Drew! Don't drink the holy water!"

After some extensive googling however, I'm discovering that perhaps all my screaming at him was in vain. Huh. I think for now though, I'll keep my holy water in my holy water bottle, and my drinking water in my drinking water bottle. 

Unless of course it could guarantee a speedier return to my Southern Charmer. ;)