- Bluebelle, Daily Life, Holy Days, I Never Thought I'd Be In This Situation, Jinx, Prayers, Reflections
The Third Sunday of Advent
I travel these days between the bumpers that make a loud noise and then send me hurtling back across the board to slam into a wall or another bumper, lights flashing and the tote board rolling the digits higher, and I try so hard to keep moving so as not to drop between the flippers, and I know how to bump just enough, how to catch myself in the crook of the flipper and then slap that button and relaunch up to the top of the board. But sometimes I misjudge and I drop through that too-wide space and disappear, and then I have to use up one more of…
- Bluebelle, Church Life, Daily Life, Holy Days, I Never Thought I'd Be In This Situation, Jinx, Movies, Photographs, Prayers, Reflections
Last Sunday After Pentecost
A week from today marks the beginning of Advent. The church calendar once provided the cadence for the march of everyday life, granting to Christians the sense of timing of season, of the low ebb of the Lenten times to the high tide of Easter. Just as farmers and cattlemen feel in their very bones the motion of the earth around the sun, and of this solar system’s wide circle around the universe, watching the changing natures scenes and the predictable habits of animals, so too the average Western man once felt the revolving year in his bones as he observed the Church’s feasts and solemn days. But now nature…
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Layers of Sadness
I just walked past the calendar and realized that a very important milestone came and went today, unnoticed by me, who was thinking of the wretched Marine Corps and of our new dog and of some issues that have arisen lately. Two years ago this morning, our beloved Bonnie died. We always said she was the best dog in the world, and we still believe this. Her passing hit us hard; that day was one of the saddest and most difficult in our married life together. I visit her grave in the woods behind the house regularly, and I still talk to her, and I still believe I will see…
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Dissipated Milestone
Today marks the 246th birthday of the United States Marine Corps. It’s an anniversary that once meant so much to me, as the Corps itself once did. And now she is tattered, stained, dishonored, decrepit, and dissipated beyond repair. Exactly like the former nation she once defended. I do not celebrate today’s Marine Corps, but I do remember fondly the comrades I once had. I’ve never had friends like the ones I had in the Corps, and my life was never as focused, and I never felt as alive. So I celebrate the Corps, as I do so many other things, in the halls of my memories. Back when I…
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Hardly Worth The Wait
Two weeks without posting, and I asked myself about my own online reticence. Fact is, I simply haven’t been interested in posting here. I don’t think I’m alone in my apathy. The few blogs I read have slowed way down. Family and friends with whom I correspond aren’t taking the time to write. The world is wearisome and worrisome and just not worth the expenditure of emotional calories to keep up with. Some folks enjoy dissecting and analyzing and predicting the trends in the world. I’m not among them. Less than a dozen people regularly read this blog — that’s not even a jury, not even a football team, not…
- Books, Church Life, Daily Life, Holy Days, I Never Thought I'd Be In This Situation, Jinx, Lectio Divina, Photographs, Prayers, Quotations, Reflections
A Catholic Christian
Jinx and I walked this morning under the coverlet of humidity that has parked itself over these mountains and announced that it will not be leaving anytime soon. The crickets and locusts rasped on in a steady note from the damp fronds of green in all directions, and we both walked more slowly than usual. I saw in my missal that today is the feast day of Saint Augustine, the revered Doctor of the Church. I prayed for family members as I walked, and I thought on the sorry things that mar the days in this age. While evil overtakes the Western world, the Roman Catholic Church has paralleled the…
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A Briefness
Two acquaintances of mine have died within the past week. One of them died of the China virus, according to the doctors. The other one was killed when he misjudged and turned into the path of an oncoming car. Not wearing a seatbelt, he was ejected from his vehicle and thrown against the unforgiving surface of a suburban street, and he died enroute to hospital. The alleged covidtality and I spoke on the phone a week before his death. His final words to me were, “Goddammit, SK, I don’t understand it. They tell me I’ve got the Covid, but I had both of those damn shots. How in hell can…
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Small Mysteries, Large Voices, Small Mention
Behold — I shew you a mystery. We have several hummingbird feeders in our yards, some of them mounted on metal shepherd’s hooks. We’ve learned that the only hummingbird feeders worth having are the ones with a water dam in the top, a sort of cup that holds water and keeps ants from getting onto the feeder. I have to keep careful watch on the feeders, replenishing the water in the dams because it not only evaporates, but also because some of the smaller songbird will drink the water in the tops of the feeders. The other day I must have missed checking on one of the feeders, because when…
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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…
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I, Too
I didn’t intend on staying away from this blog for so long. And I can’t really give words to why I have been silent. Oh, there are things I could say, reasons I could offer. But even while turning these things over in my hands, letting the honest sun glance across them, I see that they are inadequate. Deeply personal things are never expressed adequately, not ever, not to anyone. Laura Wood is a powerful, perceptive writer. I read her blog because she writes of beauty, of sanctity, of things lost, of hearts betrayed. I read her most of all because she understands suffering. Laura Wood carries suffering with her…