Reflections
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“To You Today”
Almost every morning before I leave for work, Mrs. Orr will say something along the lines of “I hope someone is really kind to you today.” It’s one of those things that I know she sincerely means, and I take it in that vein, but I rarely think about it once my day begins. This is probably because on most days, no one is “really kind” to me. This morning on the way to work, I prayed the Rosary and then did some thinking about my life, about the spectacular mess that I’ve made of it in so many way, of the numberless crevasses of regret that I see when…
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Satan Is No Creator
Jinx was a very difficult dog this evening, and I’ve been giving him a bit of the cold shoulder. He’s gotten into a very bad habit of refusing to come when called. Or worse, running at top speed away from us when he’s called. He was barking ferociously at something in the woods along the side of the house. The noise he made was of such a pitch and intensity that it made me think it might be something beyond the usual squirrel or coon. He finally came down to the door, but dashed away every time we tried to coax him inside. My wife was finally able to cajole…
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The Third Sunday in Lent
My Old Farmer’s Almanac tells me that today marks the beginning of the hummingbirds’ migration north. The little wonders will arrive here and we will have their feeders ready for them, and our hearts will be glad to see them, and we will enjoy their company morning and evening as they swoop past and talk to us with their whirrs and squeaks. Speaking of birds, I have neglected to mention that we have a lovely little screech owl living in our barn. She was perched on the limb of the maple out back the other night when I was outside with Jinx, and she flew closer to the house and…
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Last Weekend in Standard Time
Jinx didn’t let us sleep in too late today, which was a pity because I was still exhausted from yesterday’s little stroll. But spotted dogs with small brains and enormous personalities cannot be denied, and we laughed together as he bounded around the room, growling and moaning. Yes, moaning. Jinx has a peculiar noise he makes when he’s trying to provoke us into playing with him, a noise that sounds quite a bit like the timbers in the HMS Indefatigable with HH on the bridge during a storm. A deep, creaky, groany glissando up and down three octaves. Moaning will have to do as the noun here. The moaning. Oh,…
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Long Walk Home
The day started with the usual routine: Jinx awakened me by sticking his nose into my ear and snorfeling and snarfeling around like a Texas javelina, we made coffee, fed the dogs, got showered and dressed. Off to work, and everything was calm until a few miles from my office. That’s when the car started vibrating, pitching and yawing. Oh, man, I thought. Flat tire. But I happened to glance down at the dashboard and saw the Check Engine light flashing on and off like a strobe light at Studio54 in 1978. I’m no mechanic, but I know enough to realize that when that particular light is blinking, it’s bad…
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The Trip and the State of All
I spoke at length today with an aged woman. She told me about the death of her husband a month ago. I expressed sorrow for her loss and the void it must have left in her life. She thanked me, then shook her head. “But you know,” she said, “we had a good life together, a good long life. And he went home to Jesus just as easy as pie.” I liked that, and I asked her to elaborate. This is what she told me — “He’d been ailing for some good little while, and one night, he seemed to get his strength back. I cooked him a good supper…
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Footfalls
Out in the yard this morning with Dixee (Jinx was off rambling, in search of the source of some mysterious howling my wife heard before dawn), I felt the frost crunching beneath my shoes and was reminded that this afternoon I will return to the podiatrist. I hope that he will be able to accurately assess the effect, if any, of the temporary orthotic insert I’ve been wearing since my initial visit. Looking at the state of the Catholic Church today, I am tempted to be disgusted and to withdraw into myself. But then I am reminded that for most of the 2000 years since Christ ascended into Heaven, the…
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Lauds
From this morning’s Office: In a desert, pathless, and waterless land: so have I come before Thee in the holy place, that I might see Thy power and Thy glory. From Psalm 62 — Deus, Deus Meus This spoke to me as I said it aloud in the quiet room with the dogs snoring and the clock ticking and the crucifix gleaming in the soft light. I am grateful for it, for the words and the Spirit behind the words, for the salmon-tinted dawn roaring up outside in the east, and for the unmapped day ahead. Grateful for all of it. ~ S.K. Orr
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Suffering’s Work
I have for the last several days been in a sustained mood of contemplation and prayer, feeling and responding to an almost urgent sense of needing to pray, to seek companionship with God the Father, with Christ the Lord, with the Blessed Virgin Mary, and with my patron saint, the Maid — St. Joan of Arc. Today before entering my place of work, I offered a very focused supplication that I might not be drawn into nor affected by the dozens of little soap operas whirling about me on any given day. Regular readers of this blog know that I have been battered by the foolishness that is the norm…
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The Second Sunday in Advent
The weekend was a mild one, foggy and rainy for the most part, but with a three hour sunbath this afternoon. We sat out on the front porch and read for a good long spell, enjoying the fresh air and watching the battalions of birds as they ate and visited. Methuselah, the ancient white-faced squirrel who has lived on this land longer than we have, scampered in his deliberate, arthritic way across the driveway. How many winters has he seen? Jinx and I climbed to the top of a high ridge yesterday and enjoyed a rest up where we could peer down to our place and for quite a ways…