The World is full of ashes, and you are covered in grey muck.  BUT don’t despair!  It is only the old southern hemisphere chimney, getting a clean out before winter begins.  Your Sunday, once you give yourself a wipe down, should be otherwise fairly uneventful – a string of open-ended remarks, non-committal nods, and a general swipe or two at the state of local politics as represented in the news.  In other words, a regular Sunday.  In the future, the next time that you have occasion to experience a less than ordinary Sunday, you’ll look back on this one and feel wistful.  But for now, I give you permission to take every moment of today for granted.  Sip that coffee and ignore how well it tastes on your tongue, shake out the paper and pretend you can’t hear its satisfying rustle.  (Did you see what I did there?  Hah!  Too late now, you’re bound to be glad and grateful all day long.  Either that, or jumping at sudden crinkling sounds.  Your choice.)