- Daily Life, I Never Thought I'd Be In This Situation, Jinx, Music, Photographs, Prayers, Quotations, Reflections, Saints
Squinting Towards Armageddon
“I can, with one eye squinted, take it all as a blessing.” ~ Flannery O’Connor Before I set down the day’s thoughts, I want to express my humble gratitude for the many warm and supportive comments I received on my most recent post (the most comments I’ve ever received, in fact!). When I say “humble gratitude,” I mean exactly that. I am grateful for the kindness, but I am also humbled by the display from you, my readers who mean more to me than you can know. I also wanted to say that I’m somewhat chagrined after re-reading the post, which I had composed at the end of a weary…
-
The Pages of the Days
Jinx and I were on the road this morning while it was still dark. Dark in terms of “the sun hadn’t arisen yet,” but not in terms of a lack of light. God held the full moon above us — I believe the almanac named this one a Cold Moon, but in Texas, since it’s occurring in August, it’s a Comanche Moon — and the shadows the dog and I threw on the road were black and stark and eerie. Adding to the atmosphere were a witchy mist floating in the hollers and the calls of screech owls and hoot owls haunting the humid air above the dark fields. During…
-
Century Plus
My mother was born one hundred and one years ago today, in the shadow of a small mountain. Tough, taciturn, and tortured woman that she was, she never did anything the world would call notable, but she did something that impressed me. She endured. My sister and I were discussing Mother this morning. We agreed that we’re glad she’s no longer in this world, that she’s not here to see what has become of the country she loved. It would have grieved her beyond measure to see the horror show called American life today. I comfort myself with the hope that I’ll see her again someday, on the other side…
-
Dogwood Winter
The sunny, balmy weather of the past week has yielded to a cold rain with the threat of some snow mixed in today, and freezing temperatures for the next two nights. This means I will be draping old bedsheets and towels across Mrs. Orr’s flowers in the front garden, and bringing in the basketed ones hanging on the front and back porches. Our dogwoods have finally come into their full strength, which makes this cold snap the Dogwood Winter. The blackberry canes surrounding our farm have started to bud a bit, and the next cold snap should be right about the time they bloom out. That will be Blackberry Winter,…
-
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
-
On the Feast of St. Scholastica, Virgin of the Church
Out in the back yard with the dogs this morning, I saw that most of the snow has melted, leaving just a scattering of white patches around the land. I knelt and poked one of the patches with my finger. It seemed to be made of tiny glass beads, and it yielded and melted beneath my touch. The day is supposed to be mild and cloudy, and the earth around our farm will probably be completely bare of snow by the time I return home tonight. But more is forecast for a few days from now. We have certainly gotten our share of winter in the mountains this year. Arriving…
-
The Epiphany of the Lord
While on our daybreak walk this morning, Jinx and I watched two men setting up chairs under the tent at the newly-opened grave in the little country graveyard. The spotted menace seems to take a special interest in the craft of the sexton; I was grateful he didn’t leap onto the tarp covering the grave. This time. The wind was chilly and brisk but not unbearable…about 43F. The clouds moved like a flock of sheep across the sky, low and swift and wooly, and the tang of silage came to me when I turned into the wind. As I walked, watching Jinx gallop in one of the pastures, I engaged…
-
And Suddenly It Was December
The new heat pump is working splendidly, which is a very good thing, given the teeth-chattering temperatures we’ve had this week. I’m grateful it wasn’t this cold and windy while the fellows were here installing everything. I think I neglected to mention that the gentleman who owns the HVAC company brought his father along for the second half of the festivities. He inherited the business from his dad. While they worked, I chatted with the father, an amiable man with a quick smile and penetrating blue eyes. Turns out that he actually installed the original furnace in our basement. He described doing the work all those years ago, and spoke…
-
Six Caws
I love the magic of the mornings at this time of year. Driving to work in the damp dark, lights like paint strokes across the black asphalt, twisting devils of leaves writhing in the headlights, passing the sleepy pockets of light that I know are houses hidden in the hollows, where coffee is dripping into a clear, clean pot and the news is buzzing on some device in the background while stiff spines try to loosen and heavy eyelids attempt their lifts. How many secrets, how many stories I pass as I glide past in the dark, in the morning, in the stillness of November. And then arriving at my…
-
For The Beauty
The force that through the green fuse drives the flower Drives my green age; that blasts the roots of trees Is my destroyer. And I am dumb to tell the crooked rose My youth is bent by the same wintry fever. The force that drives the water through the rocks Drives my red blood; that dries the mouthing streams Turns mine to wax. And I am dumb to mouth unto my veins How at the mountain spring the same mouth sucks. The hand that whirls the water in the pool Stirs the quicksand; that ropes the blowing wind Hauls my shroud sail. And I am dumb to tell the hanging…