Reflections
-
Night, On the Feast of Saint Patrick of Ireland
First thing I did when I rolled out of bed this morning was to confront Mrs. Orr and see if she was wearing green. Foiled again. I usually do some sort of Saint Patrick’s Day post, but after reading Laura Wood’s collection of recent Hibernian posts, I decided it would be better just to link to what she’s written. First, a thoughtful and reverent entry about a prayer some say was written by the old saint himself. Next up, a grim and needful post about the state of Ireland today. And then finally, two items to leave a lighter feel in the heart, here and here. This day has been…
-
Deserts And Caves
One of the books I got last week at the library book sale was Spirituality and the Desert Experience, by Charles Cummings, OCSO (1978, Dimension Books, Denville, NJ). This exploration of spiritual deserts by a Trappist monk (he died in 2020) is very readable and possesses one of those qualities that I so enjoy in a book: the need to set the book down frequently and ruminate on what I’ve just read. In chapter two (pp. 42-44), Father Cummings describes a sleep study profiled in National Geographic magazine from March of 1975 (Vol.147, number 3) which was conducted by a French scientist named Michel Siffre. Father Cummings tells us: [Siffre]…
- Bluebelle, Church Life, Daily Life, Holy Days, Jinx, Lectio Divina, Movies, Music, Photographs, Prayers, Reflections
Saturday of the First Week of Lent
Tonight we make the annoying switch over to Daylight Savings Time. I believe the time changing back and forth is both irrational and also a deliberate thing. Those who rule this world could easily enact a law to keep the time one way or the other, if the hours really do benefit mankind by their placement. but those people choose to do the silly back & forth. I think they do this so they can remind us that they believe themselves more powerful than God. They can speed time up or reverse it, depending on the season, and for no better reason than a bureaucratic whim. Yesterday marked the two-year…
-
The First Sunday in Lent
Another glorious day. I think it got up to about 72F today. Started out cloudy and gradually cleared through the day, with the breeze intensifying every hour. The weather people — none of whom are fit to touch the hem of my maternal grandmother’s apron when it comes to weather forecasting — are saying it’ll be snowing by this Friday night. Mrs. Orr and I had a lovely, leisurely, reading morning, settled in chair and sofa with dogs all around, our new used treasures piled before us, and we dipped into them like a all you can eat dim sum restaurant. I spent part of the day outside planting bulbs…
-
39 for 35; or, 25 or 6 to four
Our maple reawakens The dogs awakened us extra-early today, which annoyed my beloved wife to no end. We let them outside, but made them wait for breakfast while we went back to sleep for a while. Mrs. Orr never really did get her sea legs the rest of the day, though, and felt groggy. Worse than toddlers, trust me. When I stepped out into the back yard, I saw the maple was decked with tiny pink blossoms. As quick as the moon changes, it will be covered in suncatching leaves. It’s hard to believe that it was a slender sapling, smaller in diameter than my wrist, when we planted it…
- Bluebelle, Church Life, Daily Life, Holy Days, Jinx, Lectio Divina, Photographs, Prayers, Reflections
First Friday In Lent
These last few months, I have felt like the tip of a bullwhip, yanked back and forth, snapping and popping with violence that almost tore my spiritual head off, then easing back to a casual, flyfishing rhythm for a few weeks, then back to the crack and snap. Being able to leave my former job and start a new one has helped immensely. It is a truly good thing to be able to work from the home that I love so much. Mrs. Orr enjoys having me here, and the dogs all seem to like it, too. The new job is not without its own set of stressors, but most…
-
Minor Annoyances
I always disliked 60 Minutes’ Andy Rooney when I was younger. He seemed to me to be that crabby old uncle who never had a good word to say about anyone, sort of like the actor Henry Fonda but with more apocalyptic eyebrows. I also disliked him because he sneered at Ernest Hemingway for the writer’s penchant for fistfights with men who had insulted him. All my life, I’ve mistrusted males who immediately and reflexively dismiss violence as an option in their daily lives. Ah, yes. Andy Rooney. “D’ya ever notice….? His end-of-show segments were a five-minute recitation of something or some things that ignited his ire over the past…
- Bluebelle, Books, Daily Life, Holy Days, I Never Thought I'd Be In This Situation, Jinx, Photographs, Reflections
Lent’s Edge
Surprising to step out on a day like today and pull warm air into the lungs and feel the spongy earth beneath the boots and listen to the disagreements and opinions of two hundred of birds at least and to walk to the weeping willow and pull a strand to the face and see up close the little lettuce leaf buds dotted along the limb, the limb slender and useful as a pencil lead, the limb pliable but cold still, drooping towards the warming earth, conserving its energy, gathering its strength, biding its time, talking to itself as I do when I walk in the fields. Surprising it is. Yes.…
-
Plank Beneath My Feet
One of the categories for this blog is “I Never Thought I’d Be In This Situation.” This is how I feel tonight, because I, the cold weather-loving man, have reached the point where I said to Mrs. Orr, “I am tired of wearing all these layers of clothes. I am tired of hurting because of the weather. I’m tired of winter. I’m looking forward to the springtime. I’m looking forward to being warm again. And these are all true statements. How did I come to this point? I don’t know. I know that once the sun swings around and the earth warms and I hear the noise and busyness of…
-
Endings And Beginnings
At 458 pm on Tuesday, I walked into the office manager’s lair and said, “Think fast!” She looked up and I tossed my keys at her, underhanded. She moved pretty adroitly for an obese diabolical narcissist, and she caught the keys. “Thank you, sir,” she said. “Good luck.” I didn’t say a word to her. Walked out and was met by one of my coworkers, who embraced me and told me she was going to miss me. Then I walked out to the lobby where two more coworkers were busy and said, “Girls? Adios.” They both turned to me, and one of them said, “Good luck.” The other walked towards…