Little Bits

Today I was paying excruciating attention to my pasta. The word 'excruciating' of course hints at the agony of being crucified; crux is 'cross' in Latin. In this case, I was crosseyed by the delightful hotness of the real chillies I found in my screws (well, fusilli if you prefer). I don't normally get crosseyed like that, but it happens when chilli which is hot and yet tolerable in itself gets into the back of your throat and up your nose instead of down towards the gut.

It took a lot of effort not to ejaculate ('launch forward', from Latin iaculator — '(javelin/spear) thrower') through my contrary nostrils. Fortunately, I have large nostrils and can therefore vent pressure easily.

The thing about all this is that, in life, it's the small things which really matter. A chilli seed, a grain of gunpowder, grit in a gear-train, stuff like that. Big things matter only because small things do. The small things of the world confound the great.

So I looked closely at my pasta, at the thinly shaved parmesan, the small and very hot chillies, the flakes of dried Italian seasoning. And all at once, I felt that yes, one should have faith in small things; without faithfulness in the small things, where is the faithfulness in large?