Fr. Longenecker, about whom I have always written with charity, has stepped over the line.
Apparently living in a place where he admits maniples are …. and I can hardly bring myself to write… rare, he has nearly frothed that the ferraiuolo is truly his own, that it is not borrowed.
I will no longer give his… or whosesoever it was … ferraiuolo more attention, unless he should show up in one for supper at the Sabine Farm (an occasion, I might add, becoming less and less likely).
It would be best not to, you know, "disturb" him longer on that point.
His maniplely-deprived frustration has reduced him to name-calling. Who knows what might be next!
Thus, I turn my back on that ferraiuolo, casually kick the
sand… er um… snow from my feet and move on down the road to different topics.
Oh… by the way… that is something entirely different, though your average priest familiar with the ways of Rome will recognize it right away.