Once there was a convent that had in it's estate, an old windmill. As the abbey was not prospering as once it did, the abbess decided that the nuns should restore the old mill and try to support their community by grinding flour. The nuns toiled and gradually the mill was put in working order. One fine, windy autumn day the sails turned, the millstone ground and the first flour appeared. The abbess scooped the first grindings into a little leather pouch and announced "I am going to take this first flour of our mill to Rome for the blessing of The Holy Father, then surely our project will be blessed and our mill will prosper. Sister Magdalen, Sister Assumpta, you will go with me." And so the three nuns flew to Rome, sought an audience with the Pope and he blessed the little pouch of flour, but on the flight back the plane went down and only the three nuns survived. It was an isolated and barren place where they clambered from the wreckage and for three days and nights they had no food nor water and no sign of rescue. At last Mother superior said "If we don't do something we shall starve. We must make bread with the flour in this pouch." "But how can we?" asked the other two. "We will have to mix it with pee," said the abbess "for there is nothing else." She found a flat stone and poured the pouch of flour carefully onto it before the shocked nuns. "But His Holiness has blessed that flour" gasped ancient Sister Magdalen. "It would be sacrelidge" whispered Sister Assumpta. "Well if not we will die" barked the abbess. "Now then Sister Magdalen, pee on it" she commanded. Young sister Magdalen squatted over the cone of flour while the other two waited, and waited. Eventually she stood up and cried "I'm so sorry Reverend Mother, I just can't do it." The abbess rolled her eyes a shoved the poor young nun aside. "Sister Assumpta, you do it" she commanded. The frail old nun creaked aloud as she lowered herself over the little pile of flour, but after a time had passed, she rose, knees cracking and head bowed. "I'm sorry Reverend Mother, I can't do it either. It's as if the saints were watching me." "Oh get out of my way, I'll do it myself" blustered the portly abbess. She hitched up great folds of her voluminous habit and with her two sisters supporting her elbows, the plump, red faced reverend mother lowered herself slowly over the little pile of flour, farted mightily and blew it all away. The other two p**sed themselves laughing.