Triduum

Happy Holy Saturday, everyone! It's super-gloomy out, which I expect will change at around 8:00 when people start ringing their bell and singing Allelu... oops, can't say it yet!
We are on the backside of a marathon of work, which for Scott means the 24-hour (read: overnight on the parish hall floor) Food Fast for Catholic Relief Services, and for me means achy feet and bones from just running around constantly from Thursday to tonight. I don't host any big events but am involved somehow in everything that goes on at the parish during Triduum. Both jobs are exhausting and inspiring and exhilarating, and we both end up so pooped and happy by the end of it that we can't wait to wake up on Sunday morning so we can relax.
I find myself tearing up often over this weekend, wondering over and over why I am a blessed as I am... but that's another blog entry. (Really, I think I've written that one already, maybe I'll find it and link it later.) Teenagers laughing, watching my friends and fellow Christians returning from Communion, the Veneration of the Cross, middle schoolers awkwardly diving in at the Food Fast... for some reason, watching kids play Pull-Up gets me every time.
Meanwhile, I'm darting home to fix things so that tomorrow we can be primed and ready to do nothing but sit around in our Easter pajamas and feast. Here are two updated pics from my future garden, just to keep you grounded... yuk yuk yuk!

Confessions of a Confesser

I confess... I don't go to Confession much! Let's not worry about the details of how often I go, just... trust me, it's not often enough. But every year the Archdiocese has been having each church open on Wednesdays for the sacrament, so one can stop at any church, anywhere. ANONYMITY!!
I know, the seal of the confessional, and all that- and I believe it! But I don't see the point of going to my own boss or co-worker to spill out my nasties. Or anyone I know, for that matter. There is still something great about that screen in the confessional, whether it truly hides your identity or not, it's comforting to just dump my sins without having to make the appropriate facial expressions.
And, you know, it's Holy Week! Even though I've already started sinning afresh, I am glad I went, and I think it does make me feel readier for Holy Week devotions than I was before. The priest I went to was lovely, and the church was empty (when I left our parish, there were TENS of people there for confession. I know that doesn't sound like a lot, but it really, really was!). At the place I stopped, I was a little afraid that I had missed it, but the priest was alone inside, all the lights on, walking laps around the chapel. He showed me into the confessional that only had a screen and only had a kneeler, I felt wicked super Catholic!
He gave me plenty of time to roll out my sins, and then ministered to me, very sweetly. It was nice, for a few minutes, to be unknown as a churchy girl- he asked me if I'm familiar with the Bible and I had to grin a little. Yes, I said. He recommended a scripture reading to mull over ("not tonight, necessarily, but soon.") and a few Hail Mary's. I smiled again, because I honestly say Hail Mary's just about all day long. No problem. But I left there feeling free, and happy to pray, and ready to take on the crazy, exhausting, exhilarating experience of Triduum that I look forward to every year.
Happy Triduum, everyone. I'll pray for you, and if you get a chance, send one up for me!
(image source)

Happy Patriot's Day!

Or, Patriots' Day! I have been pondering the punctuation of that all day... and that's just about all I've done. It's weird to have a day off to start Holy Week, because this week is generally the Bataan Death March of lay ministry. (That's a really unfortunate analogy, and I wish to formally state my respect for all veterans.) Yesterday, Palm Sunday, the church was full and busy, and our parish's annual concert was a beautiful kickoff week. Tomorrow, after this weirdly-placed day of leisure, we resume the rolling of the ball.













There is a lot of preparation to do, and then when Thursday evening hits, we work pretty much straight through to Saturday night. Blessedly, I get to come home to bed all those nights, but Scott doesn't, as he leads a 24 hour food fast. But I'll be busy- although I'm not exactly (or even kind of like) a liturgist, I keep busy all Holy Week being as helpful as I can. We are a very busy parish, so there is just a TON to do, and I love it all.
By Sunday, we feel like we've run a marathon, and we take the day to revel in the peace and quiet and comfort and deliciousness of home. We reserve this day as the holiest of days for our marriage as well as our faith, and stay home to celebrate both. I can't wait for the Holy Week activities to start, and I can't wait for them to end.
Away we go!!!

MAlaise

It's the time of year when people start asking "how much longer do you have to go before finishing grad school?" My answer is: one Summer class, one Fall class, and my graduate project. This summer I'm taking a popular Ecclesiology class with a popular professor, and it had better be good, because I have to get to school by 8:30 AM... AM!!... every day for two weeks. It'll be my only Summer class in my grad school experience, and everyone says that they're wonderful- "like retreats!!!" so hopefully it'll be worth the drive through Boston traffic. I think to beat it, I'll have to leave my house by around 4:30AM. That's only a slight exaggeration.
In the fall I will take an ethics course, unless somehow I can get out of it, which sounds wrong. But I'd MUCH rather take a course being offered that focuses on the Initiation Sacraments, and I already squandered my electives on other classes.
My project is about Confirmation, the sacrament of, and trying to pull together some theology of said sacrament with the practices that parishes use to prepare adolescents for it. I've already done a buncha work on this, as my internship this year, so I hope to attack that and get it done by the end of the Fall semester, and then I'll be done.
Grad school has been an on-the-whole positive experience but I am ambivalent about whether it's been really worthwhile, or if I'm a lot better off having (almost) gone through it. I'll be glad to have a Master's Degree, and I definitely have learned and grown, but I also am so looking forward to having my life back. Before I started school, if people asked me about going to grad school I would say "I would like to have gone to grad school, a lot more than I would like to go" and I guess that's still true.
Maybe it's just senioritis, or the rain. Either way, I can see a light at the end of this educational tunnel, and that's a good thing!
(image credit)

I've got the fever!!

I suppose I blog about this every year at this time, but WOW I feel better, now that the Spring seems to (don't jinx it!) have arrived. I spent half the day Saturday raking up last Fall's gross wet and surprisingly deep leaf cover, and bagging it all up. It is super-fun to pull back the grossness and see shoots of green. SUPER-FUN! I totally mean that.
Meanwhile, I've assuaged some of the guilt of using K-cups by pulling the lids off after use (and we use each one twice) and dumping out the coffee, pulling out the filter, and then using them for seed starters.
In order of appearance, that's peas, morning glories, I think the morning glories again, and carrots. As each plant gets too tall for the plastic wrap that covers the tray of cups, I move them to a window sill and replace them with more seeded cups. We drink a lot of coffee around here!
Happy Spring everyone! (un-jinx!)

Bulletin!!

I think my blog has been a little gloomy lately so here's a glimpse at some happy hope, straight out of our parish bulletin. Our pastor's recovering from surgery so I got a promotion to the big page 2 column! Woo!! Here it is, for your perusal.

I don’t know about you, but I am ready for warm weather and flowers and sunshine. It seems like this year, Spring is taking its sweet time getting here. Lent, too, seems to be taking forever somehow! The word Lent is derived from the word for Spring, so I guess it makes sense that they both seem to be crawling along at the same agonizing pace. I just want to fast-forward to beauty and joy, to Easter.
But that is not how we roll in the Catholic Church. We know that in order to have Easter, we
must endure Good Friday. To experience the beauty, we must first face the ugliness. To quell my impatience, this week I went back to read from a favorite book, Parker Palmer’s Let Your Life Speak. He invites us to look at the season of Spring as a hint of how our lives unfold and how the process of growth works:
“...there is a hard truth to be told: before spring becomes beautiful, it is plug ugly, nothing but mud and muck. I have walked in the early spring through fields that will suck your boots off, a world so wet and woeful it makes you yearn for the return of ice. But in that muddy mess, the conditions for rebirth are being created.”
Palmer reminds us that growth is not all about the blooming – change is hard work, and some of the conditions for change are happening even before we are cognizant of them.
If you are finding yourself at this halfway-point of Lent to be struggling with the changes you promised to make on Ash Wednesday, be encouraged. The blooming may be still in the unseen future, but the Holy Spirit is working in the present, beneath our feet, in the muddy refuse of our false starts.
There is still time for you to Repent and believe in the Gospel. You and I, even if we’ve done a less-than-brilliant job at being the best Christians we can be so far this Lent, still have time and opportunities to turn things around.

Mortality Moments

I made it all through the weekend and through a really tough day today, and here I sit blubbering after a father-centered How I Met Your Mother episode, even though it's a story that doesn't resemble mine in the least. I just ate almost an entire package of Trader Joe's Almond Clusters, and some lovely wine, and I'm totally exhausted.
It's just... my parents got so old, so fast! How did I miss that? I mean, I knew they were getting older, I've seen the difference over the years, but it still somehow seems so surprising.
I used to think about people getting old, and wonder- the very last time they skied, or did a cartwheel, or ran, or skipped, or played catch... did they know it was their last time? Would that make a difference? A major reason that I got the surgery two years ago now was so that I could run again before I die. That's so grim, I know! But I'm not ready to do things for the last time. Already I'm facing the mortality of my eyes- all my life I thought it would be so cool to have glasses, and now I do, and I can never again not need glasses. Same thing- I totally knew it was happening, but now that it's happened, and can't un-happen, it seems so shocking and sudden.
Today at work we met as a staff to plan for our pastor's absence, as he is having bypass surgery. We all prayed along as our Parochial Vicar anointed him. Outside, snow fell and interrupted our new spring, and I felt deflated, and adrift. I know I'm not the first or last to face mortality- mine or my own. I'm not leaning to the optimistic, nor the pessimistic side... both seem tempting, but both seem, well, too easy.
We read this Sunday's Gospel, where the woman at the well said “I know that the Messiah is coming, the one called the Christ; when he comes, he will tell us everything.” I thought, yes, that is what I want- I want to know how it all turns out. Also, I want to stop the clock.

Call now to pledge.

I didn't see much of the news today, even as I have been glued to it lately to follow the situations in Libya and Japan, and everywhere. It seems like a particularly doomy time in the world. But today I was spending time with my Mother and Scott, while my brothers were with my Dad, who was waiting all day and then enduring a cardiac catheterization. Mom had been sick and was dehydrated, and we were charged with getting her to eat and drink throughout the day, and keep her company while she (and we) worried about my Dad. The day was filled with looking for chores to do, walking Mom to the bathroom and back, and terrible, terrible pledge programming on PBS.
The news from the catheterization was less than stellar, but not completely doomy, so we are all letting it sink in and processing it in our own ways. I'm learning about myself and how I handle stress through all this, and today I learned how to make fish chowder (it's not hard!) and re-affirmed that I am not going to quit my day job and look for one in elder care; that is, it's not my gift. We did get her eating soup and drinking water, and not to fall down today, so I guess that's good, but all day I've felt like a bit of a bumbler, fish-out-of-water, not knowing what to do with my hands, that kind of thing. Being the caretaker means being a good soldier, too, and not meeting Mom on her way out of the bathroom with teary eyes and swollen lips (my lips swell when I cry. It's not pretty). I want to let Mom deal with this new reality in whatever way she needs to, even if it steps on my way of dealing with it. I reckon I'll process it all through on the way home, later.
Seriously, though, what is the deal with these PBS pledge shows? First there was a tribute to 50's music, with old people singing their old hits- some looked pretty good, but some of them? Wow, they look like they're straight out of the wax museum. That's not charitable. They still have their voices, I'll say that for them, at least the ones who were obviously mic'd and not obviously lip-syncing. But they sing for two minutes, then the viewer must endure 20-odd minutes of people harping at you to pledge, backed by people who are clearly using ten-year-old computers. This was a RE-RUN!!!!
And don't even get me started about Celtic Thunder. They are not fooling anyone under 70- there is no way that crowd was full of real fans, it was more like one of those info-mercial audiences, filled with ringers: "WILL! IT! CHOP!?" My mother swooned over the youngest one, which is a little disturbing but you know what? Attagirl.
Now we're all in bed, gathering strength for tomorrow and whatever that brings. I'm not great at seeing my Dad as anything less than virile, so I will have to pinch my earlobes and be cheery when he comes home. So many things changing in life right now- in the world and in our corner of it. Saturday we celebrate the patron saint of our marriage, Joseph, and will lean on him a bit harder in the coming months. St. Joseph, protector of families; pray for us!

antici.......................................................pation.

I know I've written here how bad I am at dealing with anticipation... and here I find myself today with nothing to do but anticipate. Today I'm home from work, waiting for a 2:00 mammogram appointment, after which I'll come home (to put on deodorant!) and then wait for my 6:30 class to begin, and then home again for the night to wait until morning, when I head up to visit my parents and family while my Dad has a cardiac test.
In stressful situations, I want to do something. I want to get packed, I want to gather the stuff I need to bring up to their house, where I'll be cooking dinner- I want to find recipes, I want to go shopping for supplies. But, mostly everything I need will have to be gotten at the grocery store on the way up, so I can't gather that yet. My laundry is done and my packing almost done, and I can't do any of the cooking I plan to do, ahead of time, either.
I'm not nervous about the test, but I want it to be over because I want to be able to plan for what comes next. Denial of the possible outcomes doesn't help me in the way that planning for them does. It feels better to do something than to do nothing. So, my kitchen's clean, my bills are paid, the garbage is out, I'm ready to get ready- and I'm ready for what comes next. I just want it to hurry up and get here. the suspense kills me!

Downhill Battles

Well, well, well. I guess it's fan-hitting season, and I didn't get the memo.
That is...
This Sunday, we will hear about the Transfiguration- wherein Peter, James and John follow Jesus up a mountain, get to see His Glorious Self revealed, and freak out a little. They try to come up with a plan to celebrate the goodness of this revelation (let's build tents!), and consider staying up there for a while, soaking it all up. Jesus, as Jesus does, says something like "dur, NO." He walks them right back down that mountain. Jesus really forces His followers to face reality- the reality of who He really is, and the reality of the real world off that mountain.
And here we are in Lent, which I get excited for every year, thinking it'll be this glorious time of spiritual growth, wherein Jesus and I will grow close and I will have warm feelings of happy religiousness. I always expect it'll be like a glowing 40 day retreat, but every year, it's a little bit more like... boot camp.
I want to imagine that a relationship with God is cozy, warm, and easy- I want to stay on the mountaintop, basking in His glow, but the truth is, it's hard. Ministry? Hard. Real life? Hard!
And I have a really, relatively, super-easy life. My house has, so far, not been wiped out by a tsunami, for example. Still, this life stuff, it's hard work. But... I'm willing to do the work of being in relationship with God, on and off the mountain, and I will lean hard on his assurances that I can be un-afraid.

Simple..

Simple Woman's Day Book
FOR TODAY 2/12/11...
I know, I know, it's so cheap to blog using a fill-in-the-blanks structure like this, and I oughta just buck up and blog like a big girl, but for some reason the thought of cold-writing is just too much for me right now. So, you'll take the Daybook and you'll like it.
Outside My Window... it's almost hard to believe, and feels like I'm jinxing it just to even mention it, but Spring seems to be... springing. A LOT of the snow has melted, and the yard is a mess. Today I cleaned up the largest of the branches that were littering the lawn, and Scott couldn't resist doing a little sweeping out there too- the nice rocks that our landlord put down in the parking spaces last year are ALL OVER THE PLACE. It's going to take a serious amount of raking to get them back where they are supposed to go, but we're in that giddy, early-spring mood that makes us anxious to don our work gloves and have at it.
I am thinking... about my Dad, and a friend, who both are scheduled for the same cardiac procedure this week. As we get ready for Dad's, my siblings and I are maneuvering the visiting and worrying and whatnot. It's new territory for us, and there are so many of us, and we're all being careful not to be too pushy or too lax, or too impatient or too assuming, or... well, it's tricky stuff, made trickier maybe because we like each other and don't want to let this stress cause any damage to our relationships.
This weekend for Generations of Faith, we did a program that had a TON of moving parts- several speakers and locations and props and transitions, and we handled it as a team- but all evening as people ran up to me to ask last-minute questions about details unanticipated, I wished there was one central director who was in charge.
In both settings, my family and at GOF, it's harder to work as a team, but at the end of the day (night) it feels good to do high-fives all around (we actually don't high-five, but you see what I'm saying) and know we've really worked well together.
I am thankful for... my job! (Do I say that every time?) In our Archdicoese, we're looking at a reorganization, whatever that might mean... and, we really have no idea- there's no real information forthcoming from the Powers That Be, which leaves us with nothing to do but imagine outcomes, best- and worst-case. I'm so fortunate to be where I am, and it is scary to think things might change...
From the kitchen... NOTHING! I missed my weekly visit with my favorite baked-goods consumer this week, which left me with no excuse to bake, especially since Lent is here. Today's errands turned into kind of a long process, and we ended up having dinner at a great local restaurant, and I broke all my Lenten rules. Sorry, God. I'll do better tomorrow, or at least Monday.
I am wearing... I totally got dressed today. But now I'm back in my pajamas.
I am creating... a retreat, for women! I'm doing a day retreat for a parish nearby, at a lovely retreat center, and I'm so excited for it. I think it's going to be a really lovely day.
I am going... to bed soon. MY lovely doctor has given me a lovely prescription for lovely sleep medicine!! I never thought I'd need help sleeping, but I was waking up a LOT at night, just about every time I would turn over. It is heavenly to sleep through the night, and not feel drugged out- I still wake up if I need to, and wake up in the morning fresh as a daisy. I love going to bed!!
I am reading... Not much this week, as I have been on Spring Break. Woo! But I have been reading the news accounts about the earthquake in Japan and the Tsunami, and all the other bad news in the world.
I am hoping... for a little good news this week. For Japan, for my friends and family with their various medical issues, for warm weather, for lower gas prices. Whatever- I'll take any good news I can get!
I am hearing... Some silly movie that Scott is watching, and otherwise peaceful silence.
Around the house... the cats are still in hate with each other, but mostly just hissing and growling rather than the old fighting. So, I guess that's an improvement.
One of my favorite things... oh, I don't know, I'm tired. I'd better head to bed- daylight savings, you know, tonight. Oh! Daylight Savings is one of my favorite things, I guess.
A Few Plans For The Rest Of The Week: crazy work week, back to class, and up to Maine to be part of the parent-care. Don't let me forget to write that paper that's due Friday!
Here is picture thought I am sharing.
It's Pip! She loves to get into our bedroom closet, although she needs a boost up to the higher shelves nowadays. But when she's done in there, she still leaps out of the closet onto the bed, and I got a great shot of her this time!

Straighten Up!

I'm trying to improve my posture. I had an awesome massage this past weekend, in hopes that I could start getting myself back in line. I have a sore shoulder that, most days, feels like someone's stabbing it, and some days, I can't raise my arm up very high. And shrugging?? Forgettaboutit!!!
Anyway, my massage therapist is brutal and great, and I felt better (albeit SORE) for a couple of days, but it's really just as sore as before, and probably is shoulder cancer. Okay, I don't think there is such a thing as shoulder cancer. But these are the things one thinks about while being invisibly stabbed in the shoulder, you know?
Anyway, since my massage, I've been trying really hard to sit up straight, stretch out my pectoral muscles like the therapist urged me to do, and realign myself to stand up nice and tall, shoulders back, like I'm facing a firing squad. Ha!
Anyway, it's exhausting! It's a lot of work to stand up straight and sit up straight, and my muscles are wimpy and weak and it's seconds before I feel my shoulders curl and my back sag again, back to the comfort of dis-alignment. And the mindfulness involved in being aware of my posture and reminding myself to sit up sit up sit up is something I'm just not used to. I feel odd, sitting up straight, too- suddenly taller than everyone around me and wondering if they are wondering why I look so wooden. There's a weird psychological element to it, this physical change in my stature.
Maybe I'll add my posture to my Lenten promises, and offer up the hard work it's turning out to be.
(picture credit)

Perfect Storm

First: last night at the big snow tubing adventure, I listened to one of our college students tell about a revelation he'd had that day- after volunteering at the Haley House, he'd been given a tour of the cathedral in town, and said he realized that the Church is hypocritical. He said they were shown a chalice made of gold, worth thousands of dollars, and a chair where only the archbishop is allowed to sit. "It's all unnecessary," he said- wasteful and ridiculous. I didn't have a good answer to his concerns.
This morning, then, I read this article- I love this woman's blog and although I guess I'm one of the "happy clappy" Catholics that she complains about, I thought she made a really great point. I am no liturgical police-person, but I know enough to see when things can be done better. I love the reminder that no Mass, no Christian, no form of worship is offered perfectly.
Then today, being the Church Geeks that we are, Scott and I took a trip to a shrine. Our first stop was the gift shop, and I guess that was not the best place to start. It was HUGE, and full of... crap. I saw gift-boxed feathers, with ribbons on them, that were supposed to be from angel wings? They had recently renovated the place and the it all looks polished and new, with piped-in music (I heard "Pass It On" while I was browsing the clearance table!). Everything had special lighting and such. I was so turned off- the chapel, which was the last place we visited, was nice- but... everywhere, everywhere, everywhere were fund-raising pleas. Benches you could buy in memory of someone, candles for the candle chapel, and donation requests at every turn. On the end of each pew in the chapel sat a large envelope that said "remember me... remember us!"
I thought of Simcha's article and realized that I am on the whole much more comfortable with imperfect worship than perfect- I'd rather a church building be shabby and full of friendly, sincere-faithed people (I know, I know that's not a word but you know what I mean).
Don't get me wrong, I don't think the Church should ever stop trying to do liturgy well. I know there are standards to good Mass. But I'd rather be in a tin church before a clay chalice with good people and a great homily than surrounded by strangers in a cathedral decked in gold. I don't even mind clapping a few times.

What a Difference a Day Makes

Yesterday was discontent of my Winter. I was driving along with the sun in my eyes and the wind blowing my car around- my windshield washer fluid tank was empty, and the new bottle of fluid I'd bought, but had neglected to put in, was rolling around the back of my car, smashing against things whenever I took turns. Still, it was too cold to get out and fill the damned thing up.

Plus, I was trying to drive with the sun in my eyes AND read directions- so I was switching between sunglasses, no glasses, reading glasses... all while squinting through a dirty windshield looking for street signs.

I think the world would be infinitely better if there were clear street signs at every intersection.

On top of that I was wearing jeans that were just a smidge too small, and needed to hunt down a low-carb dinner before class, which runs cruelly from 6:30-9:00PM.

As I was driving I thought to myself, "why do I feel so unhinged today???" I even felt completely dumb about my Old Testament class. But now I know I was just... reaching the peak of Winter despair.

Today I awoke to (low) 40's temps and sun high in the sky. My glasses (which were apparently sent off to NASA to be ground, that's how intricate my prescription is) are due in about a week, so I will soon be able to SEE. I bought myself some new jeans that fit just fine, and didn't have to go up a size. I filled my windshield washer fluid and cleaned out some of the muck in my back seat, and now I'm off to lunch with a friend.

I feel different today than I did yesterday- maybe it's hormone levels, or maybe it's just a new hope born of that change in temperature that helps me realize suddenly that there's lots to look forward to- even warmer warmth, garden plans, flip flops, summer plans. On my way out of the house I crunched some ice under which a tiny river of melt-off was flowing and felt real joy.

Bring on the Spring, I'm ready- ahhhhhhhhh!!!!

Looking Ahead to Ash Wednesday

Here's a bit of the parent session I taught this past weekend for our parish's Generations of Faith, with some changes to make it blog-able:



(pic credit)








As we prepare for Ash Wednesday, let's look at a little piece of scripture that I think will pull this all together for us- we often hear it on Ash Wednesday (it’s one of the options) as we are blessed with ashes: “Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return."

Why do you think this snippet of scripture was chosen for this day, which marks the beginning of Lent? I always hear that it's a reminder of our mortality, which, I guess is always important- but, why on Ash Wednesday?

To clear it up a little more, let’s look at the context: it’s from Genesis, the first book of the Old Testament- it happens near the end of a speech by God to Adam and Eve after he’s found them hiding from Him in the garden. Remember, they're hiding from Him because they've gone against His instructions, and... well, just maybe they know they're in trouble.
Here’s the scripture with a little context: (Gen. 3:16-19)

To the woman he said,
‘I will greatly increase your pangs in childbearing;
in pain you shall bring forth children,
yet your desire shall be for your husband,
and he shall rule over you.’
¹⁷And to the man^* he said,
‘Because you have listened to the voice of your wife,
and have eaten of the tree
about which I commanded you,
“You shall not eat of it”,
cursed is the ground because of you;
in toil you shall eat of it all the days of your life;
¹⁸ thorns and thistles it shall bring forth for you;
and you shall eat the plants of the field.
¹⁹ By the sweat of your face
you shall eat bread
until you return to the ground,
for out of it you were taken;
you are dust,
and to dust you shall return.’

Check it out: God is MAD when he says this! It reminds me of an old parental line: "remember, I brought you into this world and I can take you OUT!!!"

I think it's pretty common for a parent to get angry when their kids do something stupid- but I think at the heart of that anger is usually frustration, born of dashed expectations. Parents have hopes and expectations for how the child they've created will behave in the world. They expect their children to be grateful for what they have been given, to know right from wrong and to act accordingly. They are angry because they are thinking "I know you can do better- I have been trying to raise you to do better."

And I think that's what God was saying to His little creations who, as the story goes, should have known how to act in the face of temptation and chose differently.

When a parent chews out their kids for doing something stupid, they demand change- they want their kids to turn it around, straighten up, and remember who(se) they are and that they've been taught- and for us, Catholic Christians, Lent is the time to do that. If we've gone astray during the year, failed to live up to God's expectations of us, now it's time to repent, and to return.

This Ash Wednesday, when I'm blessed with ashes and I am told "remember, thou art dust and to dust thou shall return" I'm probably going to hear "remember, I broughtest thou into this world and I can takest thou out of it!" and I'm going to try to do better. I want to make my Father proud.

Simple Woman's Daybook

Simple Woman's Day Book
FOR TODAY 2/12/11...

Outside My Window... the world is begging for a big thaw. It's been so cold for so long. The snow is deep, solid, and crusted with dirt. The roads are white with salt and have huge frost heaves and potholes at every corner. It's a disgusting mess out there! Someone told me that it's supposed to be in the 50's by the end of this week but I will not believe it until I feel it- it's just too much to hope for.
But as Parker Palmer says, the first part of Spring, before things get green and lush, it is "plug ugly."
I am thinking... a lot about Lent, which is usually getting started around now but still won't be here for almost a month. This eternal winter is making me sick of everything, and I am hungry in every way for a fresh start. Yes, I'm a bit cranky. It just feels like it's been this time of year forever!!
I am thankful for... Scott's seemingly limitless patience with me. He graciously gives me wide berth when I am cranky like this, and amazingly, miraculously seems happy to be around me, all the time. Good God I am thankful for him.
From the kitchen... I started low-carbing this week, and feel better already. Carbs and sugar are just so toxic for me. I love the food involved in low-carbing, all meats and veggies and more meats, and I lose weight when I'm eating like this, and you know, it isn't even that hard. The best part is I never go hungry and never have to taste anything low-fat. It's great! Why do I ever go off this way of eating? I'll tell you why. Chocolate cream cheese frosting.
But tonight I made flax meal focaccia bread, and that's pretty good for less than a carb per piece. I also pan-fried steaks and finished them in a hot hot oven, and we ate them with spaghetti squash alfredo and some nice red wine.
I am wearing... yep. Pajamas. But I totally got dressed today, and went to the grocery store and got gas and those steaks. Totally productive. In clothes. But somehow, here I am in my jammies. In a sleeping bag, in my chair.
I am creating... Well there's that dinner. But at work, I'm creating a plan to rehab the ministries in our parish, which are sort of all in danger of dying out, as almost all of them are led by the same 6 or 8 70-year-olds. Suggestions?
I am going... this year is shaping up to be one where Scott and I travel separately a lot, which is very unusual for us. And, what's worse, it'll be our 10th anniversary this year. In the Fall, Scott went to the NFCYM in New Orleans, but I didn't- and this spring, maybe I'll be going to the NCCL conference without him, followed by him being off on retreat the weekend I get home. In June, he can't come on our annual camping trip with me, as he heads of for Catholic Heart Workcamp the whole next week. Isn't that weird? it feels like we will just be passing by each other in the driveway throughout the spring.
I am reading... The Old Testament, and really a lot of articles and books about the sacrament of Confirmation. My grad school project is shaping up to be a pretty cool one (I was going to say "exciting" but maybe that's just me that thinks it's exciting. I have a whole-ly new theology of the sacrament, and a whole new way of looking at adolescent confirmation that I think is going to make me a very very rich woman. Ha! Just kidding. But seriously, there may really be a book in this! Woo!
I am hoping... for that thaw that is promised. Dear Lord, send a thaw.
I am hearing... The Middle. This is a funny show! The parents in my Generations Of Faith group last night were talking about it, and saying how true it feels, and they love it. Scott is working on refining his teaching for round 2 of GOF tomorrow, typing away and whispering to himself. I think I may have PMS on top of this whole eternal winter thing.
Around the house... oh, you know, various and sundry messes. Someday, when it gets warm, I'll clean it all up.
One of my favorite things... is sleeping soundly, which I do now, because my wonderful doctor gave me wonderful sleep medication, and ohhhhhh it's sooooooo gooooood. I don't know exactly how addiction works but if I ever have to go off this medication I will completely come unhinged. Ha! Just kidding!! But seriously, it's great.
A Few Plans For The Rest Of The Week: Hopefully by the end of this week I'll be a regular glasses wearer- no more reading glasses for this girl with the bad eye. I went for my first eye appointment and it turns out my right eye is TWICE as bad as my left eye- the doctor asked me if I'd worn a PATCH as a child!!! No. I didn't. So, you know, I'm looking forward to... being able to look forward! Har!
Here is picture thought I am sharing.
OH LORD I MISS THE WARM WEATHER!!!

A Comment on Comments (with comments)

I commented on a blog! On an NPR radio show blog!
I haven't commented on a blog in years, and outside of some blogs I don't usually even bother reading the comments. I think the blog commenting process is similar to that of getting into a car and feeling safe enough to have road rage. Suddenly you're in a large cage that will give you the courage to flip off people who, outside the car, could kick your ass. When commenting on a blog, you sit in your jammies and use a false name and flip off the whole world. Whenever I've felt like commenting, I've been angry, and that is no mood in which to take to the internet.
Sometimes I read them out of curiosity and/or for humor's sake. Just last night, I read comments over at the Groupon.com blog about their Super Bowl ads. I was able to discern that most people were angry about the Tibet one, and I enjoyed one comment that said something like "shame on you, Groupon. Again. SHAME ON YOU." Heh, that still makes me laugh.
Anyway, today I was listening to The Takeaway, and they featured someone from Beliefnet talking about the new Confession App that everyone is sending me notes about these days. They said why has religion (who is this "religion" they're asking about?) been so resistant to technology and social media? They said the Pope hasn't exactly approved the app, but hasn't not approved it, either... and they wondered if the new model of church will be the online forum.
So many responses leap to mind.
1) can you imagine a church that's like an online forum? See above. I'll take a buncha people praying quietly together in one room any old day over that.
2) I don't know about "religion" but all we hear about these days from the RCC is about using technology and social media for evangelization, etc. There doesn't seem to be much resistance there, except here in Boston where everyone is assumed to be a child molester.
(oh, that's harsh. I should delete that.)
3) and here's what I said to the Takeaway people. This app is basically a back-lit version of the paper handouts at the door (or that should be at the door) of every Catholic Church that say "How to go to Confession." No big whoop. Sure it's got some bells and whistles but whatever. It's not a local, high-tech confessional. If what I hear is true, there's nothing there for the pope to be against. It's SUCH a non-story.
The bigger story, I'd say, is how popular it seems to be. It's 1.99 to download, which to me is a major commitment, app-wise. I'll spend .99 out of curiosity, but I would only spend two bucks on an app that I intended to use, and use... religiously. Ha! Sorry.
Anyway, maybe it's just me but that's the significant takeaway here. The app is listed at #22 top grossing and #23 top paid apps on the list. That's huge, no?
Last year our parish had surprisingly bigger crowds at Lenten Masses than we could remember, and when we offered Confession on Wednesday nights in Lent, people LINED UP to receive the sacrament. Why this renaissance? There's yer story.

If This is Tuesday, it Must Be Snowing.

Here's what I should be doing: homework. Specifically, I should be reading the book of Exodus for Old Testament class, or at the very least reading the last part of Genesis, which I was supposed to have read for last week's class, which I missed because of the latest Tuesday snowstorm. Seriously, we have them every Tuesday now. My semester may have started several weeks back, but I've only been to one class session so far- everything else has been canceled or on the other side of a stormy drive into Brighton. So. It's hard to stay motivated. Or, to get motivated.
Everyone around here has been dealing with ice dams and high snow banks, nowhere to shove our shovelfuls. We're starting to go a little stir-crazy, and I think I can speak for everyone- EVERYONE- that we're ready for Spring, warm weather, and green things.
One nice thing is that I've got the spelling of shoveling down, and also cancellation. And shoveled, and canceled. So. Thank God February is the shortest month.

Mandrake! Not that!!!

Ahhh here it is groundhog day, and no shadow has been sighted. Meanwhile we are being pelted with tiny ice balls on top of the 8 inches of snow we got yesterday, which is on top of the two feet or so we already had on the ground. What does this all mean? God appreciates irony.
Well I never have been too keen on Groundhog's day, except for the annual viewing of this cartoon, and the opening song he sings being stuck in my brain for the day. "A ground-hog's-shadooooooooow just a-doesn't a-mean a thinggggg"
Enjoy!


One Meat Brawl
Uploaded by klangley. - Full seasons and entire episodes online.

Bring On Lent

I have been OUT OF CONTROL diet-wise lately.














I think it's my deep-seated Catholicism that makes me go nuts this year- my gut knows that Lent should be around the corner so I naturally go a little crazy. You know, because Inspired Self-Control, for Spiritual Purposes, is coming right up.
I know, this is contrary to the whole idea of fasting, of sacrificing... I know that when I give up something for Lent, I should still be not doing it a year later... but that is not the kind of Catholic I am. I am the kind of Catholic who lives like a wicked sinna all year long and then pulls it together for Lent. On Easter? I go nuts.
All right, that is kind of an exaggeration. But when Lent comes I actually do look forward to a time of discipline and dedication and prayerful action. I am already dreaming of things to do for my Lenten promise, and have some good ideas. As a low-carber, most of the time (but not right now, see above picture) the nice thing about Lent is that I can beg out of people's offers of sweets, and can blame it on God. The rest of the year, people get annoyed or insulted when I turn down their brownies, or make nasty cracks about the low-carb lifestyle, etc... but during Lent suddenly everyone is sympathetic and supportive of my efforts!
I have some other ideas that I may add on or subtract to my life during Lent but I'm not set yet. A friend of ours writes Lenten Bumper Stickers with his youth group kids, and I've used that with my kids in the past, and it's surprisingly fun and helpful. The catchy slogan turns into a mantra somehow... mine in the past has been "He DIED for me, I'll DIET for Him." But maybe I'll work on something snazzier for this year. It's going to be a doozy, I can feel it. But it's still over a month away! How am I going to stop foraging before then???

Hello Kanata, Ontario!

Have you heard of keyword-search poetry? Well my counter program doesn't track keyword searches (oh how I wish it did!!) but it does have a button called "who's on?" which is how I saw that someone in Kanata, Ontario is looking at my blog RIGHT NOW! So hi Canada! It also tells me that someone always enters my blog via the "Who is your Unibrow Baby" page, which I think is funny.
On with the randomness!
It has been brought to my attention that I talk like an old lady. Born of my life as a Youth Minister/Role Model, I don't swear much (unless I feel like it's absolutely frickin' necessary) so I say things like "gosh" "darn" and "heck." Once, I was leading prayers with teenagers, and said "can you all move a little closer so that I don't have to hollar?" and a girl near me giggled and said "my Grandmother says 'hollar'." I sound a little bit like this guy:

So?
It's a real old fashioned Winter here, and I am out of love with it. My winter spirit lasted way longer than usual, what with the pretty snow everywhere and all that, but now I am sick of wearing coats and my mittens are falling apart and just the thought of that crunching sound the snow makes when I walk on it makes my teeth hurt. My hair is like hay and that spot of dry skin on my elbow is bugging me and I have just had it. What is this, January? Crap.
Half of my friends on Facebook are complaining about the weather and the other half are complaining about people who complain about the weather. "HellOOOOo, this is New ENGland, it SNOWs here, get OVER it!!" I am staying out of the fray, but you know the truth, dear reader.
My mother and my cat are both experiencing the beginning stages of dementia. I don't see Mom much but I think of her every time my cat hisses at her daughter, for no good reason. I guess that's enough said about that.
G-dangit.

The View from Here

I've been thinking about that last post since I wrote it. My head spins when I think about where we've come as a church. Today as I sat with a group of parish staff-type-people, we discussed the upcoming Catholics Come Home initiative, and one of them lamented "but what are we calling them home to?" I think the morale of Catholics in our area is worse right now than it was in the height of the scandal- worse, and different. Different because in the throes of things back then, we could cling on to hope that the challenges hitting the Church would cause change for the better. Now, several years later, things have not gotten better.
Now I don't know where to go with this post. I feel all gloomy- and that's not what I want this blog to read like- but anyone who knows anything about the state of our Archdiocese, who still cringes at the mention of the word "Catholic" in the news, who reads blogs that expose our local leadership as failing in a big way, must be finding it as hard as I am to feel hopeful. I think that part of my job as a pastoral minister is to expose people to the positive parts of our Church, to the faith, to the Truth it contains. But it's hard to ignore that we are in crisis.

C'est La Vie?

I was intrigued when I heard the announcement that the CBC radio show "C'est la vie" would be broadcasting a show about a woman traveling to her "small town in Maine" for the closing of her French-American Catholic parish. I dialed up the show and listened to it online. It turns out that small town is Biddeford, a place with which I'm pretty familiar. I listened with interest as she described herself as having moved away from the town many years ago, and having left the Church altogether.
When she returned for the final Mass, though, she was moved to tears. She kept saying things like "They are taking our Church away from us" and "They are taking my culture." She mourned this Church which she admitted she had stopped supporting and stopped believing in (but fully expected to be buried from) years ago.
This is baffling to me.
Who, I wondered, does she think "They" are? Who is taking this Church away, and from whom? Now, I don't deny her feelings, and I'm sure they are deep and sincere- but, what do those feelings mean? Is this what the parish church has become, merely a monument to our childhood faith? Why do we think the buildings should be held open until we are done using them, and until we are ready to use them again? How has our association become so strong to a building and not to a God?
The narrator said that if she'd ever known that the church building would ever close, she would have done things differently- she would have sent her donation checks, even from far away in Canada. But... why? Why pay to keep one building open while she's surrounded by thousands of churches where she lives?
I don't think this generation, this postmodern world, is completely to be blamed for this disassociation- I think as a Church we are constantly reaping what we sow, especially in the form of repercussions for how we've (or how we've failed to) evangelized, served, and educated our people. So, how did we come to this place? Here in our Archdiocese, people sit in the cold, dark, empty church buildings of their closed parishes rather than go down the block to join another congregation of people who are just like them.
How did we get here?

Leadership 1Oprah1

I've been thinking about leadership lately, because it looks like a lot of my work this year will be around helping our volunteer leaders become better leaders. But Saturday I was not working at all- I was lazing around, pajama-clad, un-productive. We did very little that day, I'm half-proud and half-ashamed to say. One thing I did do was check out Oprah's new network.
I'm not an Oprah fan- I think she's dangerously powerful and so rich that she's way out of touch with reality. She lost me when she went to Costco for one of her shows, and the whole show was about what it was like for Oprah to experience Costco. She just couldn't believe it!!!
They were showing behind-the-scenes shows of her latest season, of her old show. They had comments from all her producers and staffers, and we got to watch them interact with Oprah. I was fascinated, because they were all nervous wrecks! They all dreaded meeting with their boss, worried that she would not be pleased or satisfied. When she did turn out to be happy with something they did, they literally were moved to tears.
I turned to Scott and said "she is a terrible leader!! Why does she give these people titles like 'producer' and 'writer' when she really doesn't allow them any control at all?" I hoped that now that her show is over, I hope that poor group of lovely, devoted, hard-working people find nice new jobs where they are valued and empowered to do what they can do. And I hope I never become an Oprah kind of leader.

Let's get ready to ruffllllllllllle!!!!!

We visited church tonight before the 4 because this weekend, we have REAL MAGI walking in our procession at each Mass, bringing gifts to place before the manger scene. We were on our way home from New Year's reveling and stopped in to take some pics for the parish blog and make sure everything went off okay.
I visited with a family I know who sits near the front, and the mother said to her son "do you want to tell her what your New Year's resolution is?" The little boy said "well, yeah. This year I'm going to be better."
"Oh," I said, "you mean, just better overall?" and he said "Yep!"
His mother prodded him for specifics, but I had to admit, the goal of being better is pretty good. I think I'll adopt it as my own resolution.
As for work, I can feel a resolution coming over me that I am a little nervous about, which is why I can tell it's what I should be doing. I think it's time we really revamped our volunteer ministry efforts, specifically by expanding and teaching our leaders to be inviting new people in. I think this is going to ruffle some long-standing ministry leaders' feathers, because they have grown content with doing everything themselves and remaining static. But I know things can't go on this way, and I know someone is going to have to ruffle some feathers to get things to change, and I know, g-dangit, that it's going to be me, that ruffler.
That is, if I'm not too busy being better.

Massapalooza

I went to Mass 3.25 times this weekend! I am so Catholic!!

Well, the first two were on Christmas Eve, of course, at our own parish. At the 4, which was packed to the gills, I served along with Scott as a Eucharistic Minister. It was so great to walk down that center aisle between walls of happy people. One little girl, in her mother's arms, waved at the whole procession, parade-style.

At the 6, the families of the kids in the choir bunched up in the pews on the choir side of the church, so as to get a good view of everyone in their Christmas finery and curls. I sat with one of my favorite families, entertained by their littlest one throughout the Mass, and snapped pictures of the twins who were baptized at that Mass. It was a real family affair- the family of the twins are well known to all of us, with a 7 year old in the choir too. I found tears in my eyes several times during both Masses, feeling overwhelmed with gratitude for being part of this great parish, surrounded by so many people who I know and love.

(A quick plug here for total community catechesis: in former parishes, I got to know just about everyone in middle school and high school, and sometimes met their parents, but usually didn't... but here, where whole families and every generation is involved, I know kids and their parents and their grandparents and their aunts and their little brothers and sisters. It's an amazing blessing to me.)

Christmas morning I leaped out of bed (ha) to go to a 9 in Maine with my family. The contrast was amazing. There was nary a baby or toddler, which is understandable for Christmas morning, but it added to a general feeling of... seriousness, I guess. The music was solid, the lectors were good, the Altar Servers did a fine job, the homily was solid and all- there was really nothing to fault it- but, it was pretty subdued overall. It made me thankful for my parish. Oh and the most striking detail: out in the narthex was a hand-written sign that said "DO NOT LOOK FOR BULLETINS- THEY ARE FOR SUNDAY AND HAVE BEEN PUT AWAY." This is the kind of thing that totally blows my mind when I see it in churches. It's an old habit, I think, to resent visitors and CAPE Catholics (you know, Christmas/Ash Wednesday/Palm Sunday/Easter only). Even our wonderful pastor used to hold the bulletins aside for Christmas, until we convinced him this year that a great bulletin is an opportunity to evangelize to those visitors and CAPErs.

The next morning, we tried to make it to a parish in New Hampshire on our way home, but made it just as people were leaving. Well, the fact is, most people weren't leaving- they were lined up in the center aisle to receive a blessing of their family from the priests. One bunch at a time they stepped up, formed a little huddle, and were blessed. Many of them gave the priests a hug, and all of them walked away smiling. Scott kept saying "look, everyone is SMILING!!" He stopped a family and asked them about it, they said it was for the feast of the Holy Family, but that they do "stuff like this all the time here." The last position on their parish staff list is "Evangelist." I've gotta give that guy a call.

We left that little church thinking how much we want to go back there someday. I hope people feel that way coming to ours.

Little Drummer Boy

If there's one Christmas tradition I get sick of every year, it's the telling and re-telling and re-re-re-re-telling of A Christmas Carol. It's a great story, yep, and if there's a better explanation of what conversion is and how it works, I don't know it. But seriously, enough. At this time of year, the Classic Radio station on sirius starts playing old-timey CHRISTMAS radio shows, like Jack Benny and Suspense, and whatnot. Every show does a version of A Christmas Carol.

And if there's a song that I re-start to loathe anew each year, it's the Little Drummer Boy. If they just didn't say "pa-rum=pa-pum-pum" so darn many times!!! But I thought, this year, about what a great message the song has for parish ministry leaders.
I love how this kid (he's a kid, right? Or is he just little? I always assumed a kid...) comes upon the scene and wants to help, wants to serve, but the only gift he has is this gift of drumming. It's a wholly unhelpful gift to a newborn baby and his homeless mother in a barn. But she doesn't say "we have all the drummers we need, but if you'll fill out this form we'll get in touch with you. Maybe during Lent?" or "we don't use drummers here. How do you feel about chaperoning the Altar Server trip to Wacky Water World?" She says "cool. Drum on, drummer!"
(Or something like that.)
Last night at our church, in response to an invitation in the bulletin, over 20 people showed up to decorate for Christmas. The person in charge was super stressed out. People kept approaching her and saying "what can I do?" and she would say "there's really nothing." I tried to help, by giving people jobs and asking other people to help find jobs for people. It could have gone much better, if the people who invited help were ready to accept that help. I heard a Youth Ministry trainer say once that he bristles when he hears ministers say "we don't have enough help!" He says what we should be saying is "we have more volunteers than we know what to do with!!"
Last year at about this time, I think, I decided to "give and let give" and never to refuse someone's offer of help. It was a new skill to develop, this welcoming help, but it has been great.
Drum on, drummer.

crime scene photos

You may be asking, "what's with that box of delicious looking turtles that your sweet landlord sent you? The box looks to have been destroyed, perhaps by some g-danged squirrel or something?"
Ah, you'd be right!! Check out the smug facial expression on this little jerk!! You can see the picture larger... and notice the shredded corner of the box in our mailbox.
So I know you're asking "well you didn't go ahead and EAT any of those riddled-with-squirrel-germs turtles, did you?" and the answer is, of course, no- because I prefer the almond version, and these were pecan. So.

4 Things

Here are the four projects I should be working on right now:
Weatherstripping the windows. I bought it, that putty kind of stuff, and it's ready to go but you know what? It's too cold to go near the windows right now.
Baking Christmas cooky (I've decided to spell cooky that way, it's all right, I looked it up, and doesn't it look even better than cookie? It just does, admit it.) gifts for my co-workers. This year it'll be chocolate-toffee bark (again) and these lovely cinnamon roll sugar cookies (click the pic for the recipe):
Also, I should be scanning in old family pictures for my parents' Christmas calendar. I started making calendars last year from all my fancy pho-tog-raphy (read that all fancy and pretentious-like) but since the brief death of my computer I don't have much left... so old pictures it is. Don't tell my parents... that I have a blog.
Wait, there were four? What was number 4? Oh, shoot.
Aw, look, it's already 9:00, too late to start any projects. Maybe I'll just eat the M&M's that were going to be on the aforementioned bark.

Simple Woman's Daybook

Simple Woman's Day Book
FOR TODAY 12/11/10...

Outside My Window... baby it's cold outside!! I've made the executive decision that I'm not going to bother raking up the leaves on our lawn until Spring. I'm going to consider them "mulch," protecting the ground and gardens from the harshness of winter snow. Yeah, that's right.
I am thinking... about getting up and doing stuff, but instead I'm sitting around watching terrible tv shows. Okay, okay I'll admit it: it's old episodes of The Ghost Whisperer!! There, now you know. Don't judge me. But once I get ready to roll today, WATCH OUT! I'm probably going to get SO MUCH DONE!!! Wooo!!!
I am thankful for... there's not enough space here, or letters in the alphabet, or words in any language. I'm so blessed that it's almost embarrassing. I'm a lucky, thankful girl.
From the kitchen... the refrigerator is growling. Our compressor is going... so, it's still cold but every time the motor turns on, it makes a terrible noise. We are waiting to hear from the landlord about what will happen next, but for now it's still working so I don't mind waiting a bit. The repairman came out and somehow cranked up the coldness in there, see below for the results. The noise is annoying to us humans but nigh on to distressing to Pip, we had to move the litter box because she refused to go near that end of the kitchen. Now we have a litter box in the midst of our kitchen. But you know, you've gotta do what you've gotta do for your cats. Pfft.
I am wearing... oh man, pajamas, like I always am when I write these things. That's embarrassing.
I am creating... bark and cinnamon roll sugar cookies for staff Christmas gifts, sometime this week. I have been able to do lots of baking lately for a friend. It's the perfect symbiotic relationship; I love to bake and she loves to eat baked goods. I love to be praised and she is a fan of yummy food and when she takes bites of yummy food, she says "mmmmMMMMM!!" Love that.
I am going... to pick up Scott on Monday night, and I can't wait! He's at the National Conference on Catholic Youth Ministry, of which I am infinitely jealous. I watched the address from Bob McCarty the other day, and was reminded of the particularly wonderful hearts and souls of Youth Ministers. I am loving my job- LOVING it- but I look forward to the day I re-enter that community of ministers.
(Oh no, I just realized it's a marathon. A Ghost Whisperer marathon!!!!!!)
I am reading... Not a lot!! It's semester's end, and I'm three pages away from break. This semester I took an online Sacraments class and Sharing Faith, with the afore-mentioned guru. Both classes were helpful and applicable but I have no idea how I've done in either class. I'll be relieved to get actual grades, and hope they're good ones... I am fantasizing about buying a New Yorker to read over Christmas week.
I am hoping... for safe travels for Scott and that lots of people in New Orleans offer to buy him dinners between now and then, so that we can make it to payday. That's a hint Chris Weber!!
(ha! I crack myself up.)
I am hearing... shinies and shadows attacking a poor ghost child!! Oh Noooooo!!!!!!
Around the house... you know, cats, snoozing. Messes, waiting to be cleaned up. Laundry, waiting to be washed.
One of my favorite things... is a whole Saturday without any plans!! This week, while Scott has been gone, I've had something scheduled every day and every night. Nary a chance to take a breath and watch trashy tv. It's so nice to have an entire day... such luxury!!
A Few Plans For The Rest Of The Week: Well there's not much rest-of-the-week left, but
while I have you, I'll share that when Scott's away I have some rituals that I always do, besides watching GW. Like, I leave the bed unmade, wear ugly pajamas, leave the shower curtain open and the toilet lid up, and open all the shades to let lots of light in the apartment. It's not that we live in darkness when he's here, but he has less appreciation for light-filled, open-windowed living than I do. I also do some secret projects, which I won't outline here because he is my most faithful reader. Suffice it to say a lot shall be done, mwahahahahahaaaa!!!
Here is picture thought I am sharing.
This is what a frozen egg looks like! How fun is that?? Thanks mister refrigerator repair man!!

Mother Theresa I'm not.

Hot on the heels of the Coach purse conversation, I was approached at church the other day, minutes before the Immaculate Conception Mass, by a woman who said "I'm homeless, and my luggage is in a cab outside, and I have no money and the shelters are full, and I'm wondering... can I just sleep here tonight?"
There I was, in a big beautiful, warm, dry church. I had no money on me that I could give her, and she wasn't asking for any. But, I couldn't offer her the church building to stay overnight in. As shameful as it felt, the church building isn't something I have the authority to give. I led her to a woman who works at the town's soup kitchen, but she said she knew the shelters were full, and she too had nothing to give. The woman thanked us anyway and headed for the door. I watched her leave and wished I'd at least invited her to stay for a warm hour and some cookies after Mass. It all happened pretty fast. As she left, one of the Lectors who was standing at the door of the church said "I just hope she doesn't sneak downstairs and sleep there." I thought, "I kind of hope she does..."
I know that there are people who are gifted for taking care of the poor, and although I think I have a heart for the poor, I am not that person. I imagine someone like Mother Theresa would find a spot for this woman to sleep, toot-sweet, and talk the cabbie into comping her ride, too. I do not have the instincts for that- all I could manage to do was apologize dumbly and pat at my empty pockets.
So as I sat down to pray, I prayed that this woman would find a spot, and prayed in thanksgiving for the people who are better at helping others than I am, and wondered what the right thing to do would have been.

Gimme gimme gimme!!!!!

Man oh Manischewitz it's Advent, time for giving and shopping and planning and whatnot. It's also giving time at the church. We put up over 1300 stars with gift requests on the walls of the church, from several different agencies. Most of them are for gift cards, many are for towels and underwear and kitchen utensils, and one agency asks for extra large jeans so their people can wear more than one pair at a time in order to keep warm on the street.
But every year, some people wish for expensive gifts. One star on the wall this year is a Coach purse. This has caused lots of discussion and disgust at the parish. This Christmas wisher is being described as greedy- and her star has been taken off the wall.
Another parishioner told me recently that she doesn't like to give gift certificates, because she is afraid that the receiver will just spend them all on cigarettes. I know people who keep McDonald's gift cards in their pockets for when they pass people begging on the street, so that they can know that person won't spend whatever cash they might have given them on alcohol.
All this has me thinking about the nature of giving. When we want to give to the poor, do we always have conditions? Why does it matter to us what someone spends money on?
I get it, I do- I would prefer any gift I give to improve the life of the person who receives it. I wouldn't want to give a person license to damage themselves. But is it supposed to be different? Am I supposed to give without expectations, without conditions?
And that Coach purse. I can totally see why this person is being called greedy. But the place where I get stuck is, I'm greedy too. The things I've asked for for Christmas, they're things I don't need, things that aren't noble. So here's the question that rings in my mind: why is it okay for me to be greedy, but not for this poor woman?
I can't afford to buy this person's Coach purse so I guess I don't have to be too conflicted about what to do in this case, but it surely makes me think about why we give and what we expect of each other.

Two Unrelated Thoughts (and that's it for the day)

It occurred to me this morning that the older I get, and the more I learn, the more easily I can see the connective tissue between things that happen in life. I had lots of good examples of what I mean by this, back when I was thinking about it in the shower, but now the one that is crowding my brain is this; how we effect people beyond anything we can understand, without ever knowing.
I heard once that Charles Darwin once heard the screams of a slave being beaten, and because of that, was inspired to research the sameness between all people, to work against racism, to change all of history. How about that, huh? Without ever knowing it, the suffering this one woman experienced echoed in the heart of a man who changed so much, for everyone, across time. She never knew it! That's what blows my mind.

On another topic, my cats are getting old. Zarley, the oldest one, has always been a little "special" but now she's special and old. For the past few months, she hasn't totally been able to recognize Pip, her only child and lifelong (Pip's life-long) roommate. Now every time she catches sight of Pip she growls and hisses. Pip hisses back, because who wouldn't?
Zarley needs periodic snuggles. She stands on the ironing board in the kitchen, and while I walk around, she yells at us and waves her paw at me, and paces back and forth, and yells and yells until I stop and turn to her. She then practically (for a 16 year old cat) leaps into my arms and snuggles against my shoulder. After a few minutes, she's satisfied and I can put her down and she'll settle into a nap. But she needs that snuggle.
Sometimes, especially in the kitchen, I'm busy! I'm cooking or cleaning or doing homework or some such thing, and I don't have time to stop, but she yells and yells and I can't not stop and give her a snuggle. I'm always glad I did, because a snuggle is always as good for me as it is for Zarley.
I think my relationship with God is similar. I often don't stop and turn to God until He waves his paw at me and yells and yells and yells. When I do finally turn to Him, it's so good for me. I don't know if God needs time with me like Zarley does, but He knows I need time with Him.

That's it for deep thinking for me today. I'm going to spend the rest of the night making meatloaf, peanut-butter popcorn, and snuggling. Perfection.

Nun-nun-nun-nunnnnn!!!

A couple of weeks back I went for my yearly physical. I was sick with this nasty cold that everyone has right now, and feeling pretty lousy. I thought, seriously, about canceling my doctor's appointment because I felt so crappy. But I guess that would be counter-productive, so instead I dragged myself in.
My nurse practitioner does an EKG for everyone "over a certain age" and that is me. She said that my heart rate was speedy, and that plus my complaint of heart palpitations (NO, not panic attacks.) at night sometimes (really only a few times) might not be peri-menopause. So she ordered me to get an Echocardiograph... an ultrasound of my heart, that is, and wear a heart monitor for a day.
Yesterday was heart monitor day. I pretended I was the bionic woman all day and went "nun-nun-nun-nunnnnn" whenever I moved quickly. Only those of us "over a certain age" would even know what that is, but it made me giggle.


(check it out, the picture on the lunchbox is of Jamie ripping a phone book in half in front of a junior high class!!)




Anyway, part of the deal with this monitor is that you have to list your "activities" whenever you do some. There's a list of example activities: sitting, bowel movement, jogging, sexual activity...
It's a curious exercise to describe to a doctor, in one line, what I do during the day. At one point I did a walk-through of the chapel and church which entailed stocking a cupboard with paper cups, stopping to pray in front of the Blessed Sacrament, running up stairs, organizing Advent materials, writing on a white board, greeting pray-ers. How would you title that "activity?"
And later, when it was time for Lex, I thought, "is it important that I mention that I'll be at a bar, having dinner? Do I specify that I'll be leading a bible study?" It was just hard to discern what would be an important factor to the doctor reading my diary.
Today I watched the ultrasound tech sweep over my heart and show me my valves. I was riveted at seeing it happen right in front of me, and hearing the sounds of it from all different angles. I started to worry that she was sure taking a lot of recordings/pictures, and thinking "that valve looks kinda funny..." but in truth I have no idea what my valve should have looked like. It was flapping away, and that must be good news.
Today I'm feeling much less bionic and much more human.