Today's hymn may be found on page 25 of the Common Book of Prayer.
Things comfiest started with the designation of my daughter's pilllow (not bald) as "Comfiest Pillow" because of its soothing qualities. From that point on, certain things were bestowed with the designation of "comfiest" if they were of the highest quality.
Recently, we all went on a trip to my homeland, Great Britain, where the definition of "comfiest" was expanded to encompass extremes of quality,
For example,we now have "comfiest spring", "comfiest crack", "comfiest floor", and "comfiest iron lung".
All of these comfiest items reside at my parents house and relate to items from my childhood, at which time said items were truly comfy and were when I weighed a tenth of my current size (although not as heavy as my brother, KingBaldy ..... he's a king, I'm THE Reverend. Reverend's are senior to kings).
Anyway, the Reverend digresses.
Every time we go back to Britain, we sleep on two beds pushed togther. Comfiest crack separates the two and Donna, Megan (wife and daughter of Reverend Locks, respectively) and I all took it in turns to experience said crack. It was only towards the end of the trip that I figured out sleeping on Comfiest Floor was truly more comfy, and preferable.
Comfiest Spring resides in each bed and attached itself to each of our respective backs. Comfiest Iron Lung is the contraption given to my parents by my aunt. This is a collapsable chair that is made from the heaviest iron you can imagine, and which folds out into a "bed". Foam coverings are the mattress. It's joined together by a complex arrangement of hair-trigger springs (not comfiest) any of which would crush your lungs if they cared.
Anyway, all of the preceding is brought to you by the phase "Waste Not Want Not", my mum's favourite mantra. In simple terms, if it's less than 80 years old, it's still good.
But would I change any of it ? No. That's what makes returning to my homeland special.
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