The little thief

Today was the Mercuralia, Mercury’s oldest Roman festival. After breakfast and morning prayers, including the customary offerings on the Ides, I prepared for a small Roman ceremony to the Swift God. I put on white clothes, a piece of cloth to cover my head and gathered a bowl of water to wash my hands, wine, incense, grain and a strawberry, all next to the fireplace. There was also a slice of sweet bread, ’cause for some reason, as I moved around in the kitchen getting things ready, I though Mercury would enjoy it. Turns out He never got it. Why? Because when I left the living room for a brief moment before starting the ceremony, one of my dogs took the opportunity to cunningly steal the slice from the table. I didn’t even try to take it from the little thief: it looked like a perfect Mercuralia moment!

By the way, it happened at the sound of B-52s, which is my favourite soundtrack for a ceremony to the God of Winged Feet. Especially the World’s Green Laughter.


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