Jiggety-jig

I'm home from our annual camping trip and all settled in to my happy place (read: chair in front of the tv). I had a bunch of energy when I got home and should have unloaded the car completely, but it was rainy (or, looked like rain, or had rained recently) when I got home so I just took out the essentials (cooler, suitcase, food and toiletries) and left the rest in the car. I had some energy because I stopped on the way home for a nap- I woke up ridiculously early this morning and was wiped by 11:30, helped by a sugar crash after a donut from a local shop near our campground. Oh, God, it was good. Anyway, I stopped at a scenic vista and took a snooze about a quarter of the way home. I know, a chain-saw wielding murderer could have attacked me and no one would know where I was (it was a beautiful windy road along the Quabbin reservoir) but I thought it might be equally unsafe to drive asleep. It was beautiful there, anyway:

















And you know if you're going to take a nap, it might as well be overlooking a gorgeous mountainside. I guess.
Instead of unloading or bringing the air conditioner up from the basement, which I also considered, I got dinner and sat down to watch today's leg of the Tour De France. I can't believe it's only 6:22, when's bedtime? I'm so excited to sleep in my bed tonight!! Maybe I'll take a shower before bed and do the cursory bug-bite official count, and revel in the feeling of cleanness and water pressure. Our town's fireworks are postponed, so it's only the illegal fireworks I'll be listening to tonight, just the cats and me, missing Scott while he's away at Catholic Heart Work Camp.
Happy Independence day everyone, here's to days off and homecomings and cats sleeping in suitcases on top of dirty laundry.

Ode to our Nick

Here on the North Shore of Boston, every town has their Roast Beef place.
These RB places, they make a sandwich- they carve the beef right off the roast and put it, warm and juicy, onto a hamburger roll (or an ONION roll!) with your choice of toppings, and then a special barbecue sauce (or, I hear there's a horseradish sauce too).
Once you've lived on the North Shore for a while, someone will bring you to one of these places and teach you how to order. My order is "Junior, LTM Sauce, and a small fry well done." That's Lettuce, Tomato, Mayo, obviously, but these things must be ordered in haste and when you use the initials then they know you're no outsider and will not be a pain with your order. They're not like the soup Nazi, they're very patient, but it's a badge of honor to know how to order like that, and also an early sign of heart disease.
These places are not fancy, but clean and run like clockwork. They are Greek, and offer Gyros (pronounced "yeeros" I think, delicious wraps with garlic sauce like WOAH.) along with their beef as well as Greek salads with perfect creamy Greek dressing, and they're closed on Greek Easter.
At ours, Nick made the sandwiches for over 20 years and made them the BEST of anyone who worked there. He had a thick Greek accent, and a big smile, and if we would call to order, he would tell us "ok, number one!" but I am pretty sure he gave everyone the number 1 when they called. Scott had a long-running joke with him, ordering a slice of pizza every time we went there (they don't serve pizza), and he was always friendly to us, and to everyone.
We had heard that Nick was sick, some kind of cancer. Yesterday when I went in, the young man at the counter told me Nick has died. The crew there had just come from his wake, and his funeral is this morning at the Greek Orthodox church. Nick will be missed, and no one's roast beef sandwiches will ever be as good as his...

Trapped at home with the birds

I'm happily trapped at home because Scott is at a long meeting and my car is in the shop. Something about brakes, but they're covered under a LIFETIME GUARANTEE!! so it's just the annoyance of being carless for a while as it is being fixed. I finished my book, and my laundry and there's not a lot of food in the house (it's pay week!) but I can't go get some more, and can't get started on packing up the car for the camping trip. I've finished my book (funny, but dark, and a little too close to possible... scary!) and had a nap, and now I'm facing a yawning gap in time. I'll make chocolate chip cookies, but have to wait for the butter to soften up a bit. Ah well.
Outside the crows are cawing and chucking at each other. This neighborhood is a hangout for a crew of large black crows who behave a lot like a gang of bad middle schoolers downtown after school. They just hang around and intimidate the smaller birds, knock at the birdfeeder until it spills seed on the ground and then gorge on the stolen seed. They just sit there, talking or yelling at each other, and they have little squabbles over nothing. At dusk they fly around from tree to tree, yelling and annoying the neighbors. Whenever I walk outside I clap my hands, making them scatter, making me worry about whether or not they'll recognize my face and hold a grudge as I've heard on NPR. Why doesn't the parks department put something on for them in the summer?? Keep them busy?? The yard is full of the scars of them digging for grubs (well, fine, they can have the grubs but do they have to destroy the grass?) and their poop is on every surface. I guess that's different from middle schoolers, if only slightly. Ha!
I actually really love middle schoolers, so maybe I should give these birds a break. They do give a creepy feel to the neighborhood though. The birds, I mean.
Anyway, must figure out something about suppa. Ahhh, trapped.

Googling on Sunday

Today I was faced with the dizzying opportunity to go to Mass anywhere I wanted to go! I have today off, and although I do get homesick for my parish when I'm not there, I love to go check out other parishes and see what they're up to.
Coincidentally, I got this cartoon in my work email this week:

















It's funny 'cause it's true!! Or, I should say, it's... so... likely!
But the good thing about being a stranger in a strange church is that it reminds me that there are strangers in my church every week, some peeking in (because they've seen a Catholics Come Home ad?) and some Professional Catholics like m'self. You can't tell by looking! In fact, today the priest at the parish I visited mentioned the Eucharistic miracle at Lanciano in Italy and I was so simutaneously intrigued and disgusted that I had to google it on my iphone, right there during the homily. I know, totally bad behavior. But the point is, you can't tell a book by its cover- anyone in the pews around me could have looked upon my frown and iphone use and judged me harshly, or sniffed in disgust when I passed the basket without adding to it (I realized on my way there that I had no cash, and didn't have time to stop at an ATM and even if I did I wasn't about to give a 20, and there was definitely not time to stop and break a 20, and although I did have change and I know every bit counts, I did not want to be that person who tosses a handful of clangy change into the basket...) and that must remind me not to judge people at my church who look sheepishly at their hymn books when the baskets slide by their shoulders. Let's all just assume that those people give weekly, through online giving, which is totally possible in almost all parishes these days. Okay?
Anyway, this was a small parish that had been tha-rough The Ringer back in the beginnings of the clergy abuse scandal, and they seem to be doing well. By 10 after, right on Catholic-schedule, the church was pretty full, with lots of kids, and everyone sang and was friendly. The homily was long but not too shabby, and while it wasn't the very best in exegesis it was solid and based on the Eucharist, this being the Solemnity of the Body and Blood of Christ. It made me think, and made me google, which is not a bad goal for the modern homily, now that I think of it...
Happy Sunday everyone.

Too bad it's raining.

We stop to take advantage of a pause in the incessant rain, not to complain (see blog title) buy to creep out and check on the waterlogged garden and save the worms gasping on the sidewalks and gaze up at the sky for the first time in days without getting an eyeful of rain.
Yesterday was a day off for me and a home-alone day, to boot- I used the rain as an excuse to do very little chores and to take naps. I had a lovely solo dinner and caught up on the DVR and read my secular book (Super Sad True Love Story... so far it's dark but quirky, my kind of book!) and tried not to anger Mother Nature (ahem, to clean the selfishness out of my soul) by not complaining about the grossness out there, because next week it really needs NOT to rain. We both have camp trips coming up and in the case of my trip, soggy camping is considerably less fun than dry camping... and for Scott, soggy camp trips with hundreds of bored and cranky teenagers are seriously less fun than dry camp. So. Let it rain, for now.
Today we're wandering around the house, with all the doable chores already done and it's too soon to start the rest of the chores, and other chores like laundry aren't worth doing when it's so DAMP. So, I dunno, maybe we'll go shopping. Or, take naps. Scott is back to work tomorrow, so we won't go far or stay out late, but it smells funky here, and the sink is clogged, and... aw, too bad it's raining.
Oh, the colonoscopy? All's well! Thanks for asking!

The Turd Degree (sorry!)

I am tantalizingly close to vacation week. I worked today (and was super-productive! What is it about weeks-before-vacations??) but am taking tomorrow off (until evening LEX) to take a certain beloved someone for a colonoscopy. Tonight has been preparation night, which basically means we just wait around... for the other... poo... to drop... It has been SO hard not making jokes like that all day.
Anyway, for an introvert, taking someone to the hospital for a procedure is an exciting prospect! I have my book and another book all ready to go, despite the fact that the procedure is only supposed to take about 30 minutes. I figure with waiting time and recovery time, I should get in a few chapters. I have been trying not to eat in front of him, because he cannot eat, and I am trying not to have to go to the bathroom, so as not to take up the only seat in there. I'm weirdly psyched to go to the hospital, where there is a Starbucks IN THE LOBBY and comfy seats and free wifi.
Well, I am sure that the procedure will go smoothly (wokka wokka) and everything will come out just fine (Stop! My side!!) so it's not a stressful trip... for me. I will not giggle, and will not make poop jokes, and will not bait him into saying inappropriate things under anesthesia, this I vow. After tomorrow, one more day of work and then I'm freeeeeeeee to rest and relax and read stuff. I can hardly wait.

7 Quick (random) Takes

So. In no particular order:
1) I just took a bite of my first strawberry of the season. I love that moment! We haven't had a lot of sun, so our strawberry plants have a lot of tiny, deformed, white nubs of berries on them but one went all the way and turned a gorgeous red. I picked it yesterday but set it on the kitchen windowsill to prolong the anticipation. The taste was surprising, like a memory recovered. MMMM I love strawberry season!
2) If there's one thing I regret about my child-free state it's the loss of the opportunity to name someone. I think that would be such an honor, and I can imagine it would be fulfilling and fascinating to watch someone grow into the name I've given them. I kind of collect names in my head, and when I hear names on the radio I often pair them with my last name to see how they'd sound, and imagine the kind of person who would have that name. Fortunately, we get to name whatever pets we'll have for the rest of our lives, and I want you to know I take that responsibility just as seriously.
3) If there are two things I mull over in the car, in my alone time, while listening to the radio, they are names of non-babies, and songs I could sing at Karaoke. Don't get me wrong, I'm never going to sing karaoke, but it's fun to imagine it. My dream song would be "Loving You" by Minnie Riperton, but I'd get the crowd to sing the high notes, and that would be funny. You see my singing career and comedy career are intertwined, and similarly non-existent.
4) Even though things have slowed down considerably, and work is a breeze these days (I spent a lot of time this week reading all the journals that came in the mail over the winter that I didn't have time to read) I still am aching for a vacation week. I'll get one, too, starting next Thursday. Even if work is not slave-labor, there's something about vacation that just hits a giant re-set button for me. I can't wait.
5) I watched the whole Bruins Stanley Cup series, and it was a lot of fun! You know I love school and team spirit, and that I reflexively get choked up at the sound of cheering so this is perfection for me, even though I am generally not one to watch hockey and would never make it through their 13-month season (it's longer than this sentence!!), especially with the amount of tension in those games! I prefer a nice leisurely game of baseball, or the short-term crazed burst of excitement of the Tour De France. Anyway, what I'm trying to say is Yay Bruins! It has been fun being a near-Bostonian during this time.
6) We attended a big fest in honor of our friend who has been in ministry at a nearby parish for over 15 years. As we stood there, watching him being presented with citations and gifts and celebrated by people who talked about how he has touched their lives, Scott and I came to the same conclusion: we can do anything in this ministry job. We can do trips, we can do new groups and ministries, we can do new things, we can stretch and grow and develop. The world is our oyster. It was very inspiring and I think having seen his success, we're going to work on our own.
7) Scott and I are off to see Katherine soon, and are willing the rain to go away so we can walk with her around her neighborhood. I have been learning a lot about myself through hanging out with Katherine, and seeing myself through our conversations together. We talk about big stuff like God and Glee, but also about science, a lot- it turns out I'm into science! Who would ever have thought? (Not, certainly, my Mom.) Last week Katherine asked me a science question and I thought "huh! I'm a science geek!" She is a bona-fide scientist, so it was kind of an honor. Oh, and just to be clear, I don't KNOW anything about science, but I find it all pretty fascinating. That's something, right? Even though I don't know much? Like having a sense of humor even while not being funny.
Anyway, Happy 7 things. Our Quick Takes hostess (over at www.Conversiondiary.com) is having a much more significant week than I, so do go take a look.

Earworms

This week, I can't get this song out of my head. Enjoy!

Risky

This afternoon, the doorbell rang at the rectory. The offices are closed on Sundays- no one's in on duty to handle doorbells and phone calls, because the staff on Sunday are usually running around doing other things. But the truth is, even if someone is around on a Sunday afternoon and the doorbell rings, we are prone not to answer. It's because if we are in the rectory, it's because we taking a break or grabbing a quick bite, or because... well, you just never know what you'll find when you answer the door at a rectory, off-hours. I usually don't answer if I'm there because I don't know how to do some of the things that people come to the door for (like getting a Mass card or whatever) and I don't like to answer the door when there's no one around to ensure my safety. I know, it sounds mean to leave a doorbell unanswered, but often, people who reach past the "CLOSED" sign to ring the doorbell can be... scary. A priest in our Archdiocese was stabbed in the eye several years back, answering the door at off-hours- I know, right?? It's just... risky. But today I was having lunch with Scott and one of the priests was also in the building, and the doorbell rang... 6 times. I decided to risk it and go to the door.
The first thing I could see, below the mail box, was that whoever was there had his pants tucked into his tube socks. It was too late to turn back at that point, though, so I opened the door to an old man who had two shopping bags in his hands, and a stack of grocery store fliers. He had a big smile, handed me the flyers (couldn't decide how to spell that, so I went with both) and asked to come in. I said I'd be happy to take whatever he had to give me but didn't invite him in, but he pretty much insisted.
So I let him in, and he put the bags down to sort through them. I realized that this is the man who brings random grocery items to the rectory door a few times a week- the housekeeper and office manager know him well now. He handed me a bag of cough drops (because, he said, they're good to have now that it's getting cold out!) and then a box of mac and cheese. He said "oh, women love this stuff!" Then, he reached in and handed me a package of English muffins. He said "these are for you and the priest." I said "how nice of you to think of us!" and he said "Well, I'm a Roman Catholic. And as they say, everything counts. It takes a penny to make a dollar, and one prayer counts too." He combined his other items into one bag and said to himself out loud, "I'm so happy." I saw him out and he said "now, I want you to have one of those English muffins, maybe with some jelly!" and I promised him I'd have one.
I am so glad I answered the door. I think it's possible we made each other's day- he was so happy to give, and I am so blessed to receive.

Mmmmmm, that feels great.

It's ten years, officially, and so far so good. Our anniversary trip was flat-out wonderful- we had a great time in beautiful Mystic, CT eating great food, staying at a lovely (and quirky) inn, people-watching at Foxwoods (we didn't play even one slot machine!) and driving the countryside. Even the parts of the trip where we were just resting or reading or exploring were fun and I loved each minute of it. We had a delicious and decadent (for us!) dinner on our anniversary night. As great as it was, I was happy to come home to our comfy place and see the kitties, who missed us terribly, it was clear.
On the last day in CT, we got up and went to a local spa for a massage! Well, two massages. One each! And this leads me to my point for this blog entry, as I had a big religious epiphany during my massage. My massage-therapist was a lovely, soothing woman who made me feel comfortable, relaxed, and pampered. Her movements were never harsh, even when she was working on my tough spots. I was compliant and happy to have her move even my arms and legs when needed, and I just closed my eyes and floated along. I thought silently, "massage-therapist-lady, I love you. I will turn in whichever direction you move me, and I want to be the best massage client ever, because you, to me, are wonderful." And then it hit me, this is what we want God to be. We want God to be soothing and comforting and always making us feel better, never allowing us to feel pain. We want angelic music in the background and we want God to just gently turn us in the right direction. And we'll go! We'll gladly go limp and let God do the work. If it were only like that, we'd be compliant and trusting, and we'd want to be the best followers ever, because it is all so lovely and comfortable.
Oh, but my friends, this is not the way God works.
Tonight at LEX we talked about this Sunday's Pentecost Gospel reading- it's a quick one, from John (20:19-23) where Jesus appears to his freaked-out disciples after rising from the dead. We noticed that Jesus appears with the wounds from his crucifixion, where we supposed (being God and all) He could have chosen to appear with a nicely healed body. Why did he still have those wounds? We guessed that maybe Jesus was showing that He knows that we too, like Him, will suffer. That pain is part of life, and that death is part of resurrection. He suffered, but then triumphed over suffering. Pain is real, and true, and it exists, God knows. Massages are nice, (really nice) but they're not real life. Life is walking, sore muscles, working, suffering and victory. Massages, and vacations, are temporary. Life goes on, wounds and all.
I don't know how God works, but I know how God doesn't work! (still, it would be nice, wouldn't it?)

Joyride

This week we celebrate our tenth wedding anniversary! I can hardly believe it. My parents tell a story that on their first anniversary Dad said to Mom "it feels like we've been married forever" (or some version of that). He meant it in the nicest way possible, and she took it in the worst way. I think that's what marriage does to a couple.
Ha! Just kidding.
Anyway, looking back over ten years, it does seem like it's gone impossibly fast, and like we've been forever together. I can barely remember what life was like before Scott came along.
To celebrate, we're going on a schmancy trip! We're going to an exotic New England location, and staying in a classy inn, and getting massages, and having dinner that we'll dress up for! I obsessed for a month about where to go, sending Scott daily email destination suggestions (who was totally distracted with Confirmation and graduation Mass and retreat, and various and sundry other things) and fantasizing about spending a lot of money on frivolous things. But not too much money. I feel some pressure to celebrate up this significant anniversary (significant because it's, like, an even number, I guess... they've all been fairly significant so far though.) Now that we've booked and it's practically here I am trying not to look at travel things anymore, like the Yankee Magazine I just bought, and trying not to get so excited that I wreck the whole thing, like someone hugging a kitten to death.
BUT I CAN'T WAIT TO GO!! And, you know, 10 years is something worth celebrating. So cheers to Scott My Love, and thank you for so far.

Latest Musical Obsession...

Oh my, I cannot get this song out of my head. Check it out, s'good:

Holy Spirit, yo

I have long had a love/bewilderment relationship with the Holy Spirit. I love Him/Her/It, whoever or what-ever It... She... He is. When I was confirmed in tenth grade, I had to have an interview with the pastor and a Sister who was working there at the time. At the end of the interview, they asked me "do you have any questions?" I said "yes, I don't get this whole 'Holy Spirit' thing." The Sister looked at the priest, and the priest looked at the Sister, and then finally they looked back at me. The Sister said "well......... you know how, when you have a friend, and you do something nice for that friend, out of the spirit of friendship?" I nodded. "Well, it's kind of like that."
...
I guess now that I can see what she was trying to say- the Holy Spirit is what prompts us to movement, to action, to holiness. At least, that's how I understand the whole thing... at least, currently... my understanding of the HS changes, I think, as my life rolls on. (My favorite description of the Trinity, by the way, is "Lover, Beloved, Love." Apparently that is some kind of non-Catholic teaching, but heck, I like it, and it's my blog.)
This week, I was invited to visit our parish's charismatic prayer group. In truth, I have been invited for... years... but have never made it there. I have never been a charismatic-faith kind of girl, and even more, I have an reflexive, cynical, suspicious feeling about it. Case-in-point, they invited people up to a "baptism in the Holy Spirit" and I thought, well, what are they saying? Is the original baptism not enough? Would it not be powerful enough to encourage people to renew their baptismal promises, or something? And, are they saying that without this baptism, we have less of the Holy-Spiritl? Or, that somehow we get more Holy Spirit through this un-sacrament? I dunno.
But overall, I was happy to be there, even through my initial discomfort.
I've been around charismatic Christians before, and have heard people speaking in tongues, which seems to be a really big deal to these groups. (I don't get it- what good does it do? But I digress...) anyway, what I realized last night was that these people were truly filled with love and felt God's presence so sincerely. I loved them for that, and admired them for pursuing and living their faith. I knew that the Holy Spirit was indeed present and active in this group of dear people, and that God must be pleased by their passion.
I'm willing to admit that I don't know much, and have a little bit of jealousy for those who do.

If you're reading this, I may or may not have been raptured.

So today we are (by 6PM) supposed to have earthquakes, strong enough to open graves, etc. I've been listening curiously to all the coverage this supposed Rapture date has gotten. Slate has articles about how religious/cult groups handle it when their prophesied doomsday comes and goes, and about what happens to your pet if you have to leave it behind.
(Which brings us to my favorite scene in the Simpsons... ever:)

I remember when this same guy predicted the rapture back in '94. I remember that there were stickers on light poles everywhere. I was living in MA and volunteering with Young Life, an ecumenical Youth Ministry. I was one of the very few Catholics on the volunteer team and I watched in (silent) amazement as some of the others, evangelical-types, prepared for the Big Day. They made plans to meet just before rapture-time and pray together, and I thought that was nice. (Fast-forward to this week, where there's a Facebook event called "Post-Rapture Looting" that one can join.) I made no such plans at the time, and as nice as I thought that was, I have no such plans today. So, if it comes and I'm not ready, it'll serve me right.
I guess if this is The Day, then I'm fine with that. But I have a lot of theological issues with the way this group is ruling out people and ruling-in others. What is it about religious-types and their inability to say "you know, we just don't know. How would we know who goes to Heaven or what Heaven is?? But we think it's going to be great."
I feel bad for the people who want this to be true so badly, who have taken big risks with their lives like quitting their jobs and leaving their families behind to make van caravans (??) all over the US. Slate says they won't be too disappointed, and will just readjust their expectations... you know, if it doesn't happen. I know one thing, if I were that minister who started all this buzz, I'd disappear, either way... and leave a note that says "if you're reading this, I've been raptured!"

Bacon heals all wounds

This morning I woke up cranky. That is pretty rare, but I did fall asleep a little cranky, and it has been raining since I turned 40. Okay, no, that's not true but it has been raining, or at least dark and cloudy, for about a week now, and not much relief in sight. As I stepped out of my car last night to see that the garbage-people had left most of our trash on the curb, unhappy with the bagging or something... and felt the tree hammer my head with giant drops combined from hundreds of other little drops, I couldn't help but whine. Everyone is complaining, and honestly, however much I prefer this to snow, it feels like a giant bait-and-switch.
I had convinced myself that once it got up to 50 degrees and stayed there, that all would be well. But it's a constant 52 or so, and dark, and foggy, and gloomy- and the tree here is dropping crap all over the place, which is sticking to everything, because it's wet.
I have nothing to complain about in this cushy life of mine, but really, this... sucks. All I can do is gaze longingly at my garden, perfectly placed so as to be viewable from the kitchen window... and sulk.
Soon, I'll feel better- lunch today with a favorite friend, and dinner with another tonight... a weekend without too many plans, and a crazy, happy Sunday ahead at the parish. We made it to payday without bouncing anything, and now we have enough money to buy bacon for the next two weeks. I'm in a good place, overall. Maybe I'll just a mantra to get me through the gloomy moments. "Baconnnnnnn. Fridge full of baaaaaaconnnnn..." Mmmm, I feel better.

Canadian, please

One of the best things I've found through satellite radio (besides Johnny Dollar, America's Favorite Free-lance Insurance Investigator) has been Canada! Specifically Canadian Public Radio, the CBC. I still love NPR but Canada does what NPR does, even better. Most of my favorite NPR shows are weekend shows, but CBC does those kinds of shows all week. NPR has never been able to pull that off (see: Bryant Park Project). They seem to think it must be serious news and call-in talk shows all day long to be good enough. CBC plays fun shows like "The Debaters" and drama shows (although I don't really get into them) during the weekdays, and even some ultra-specific but weirdly fascinating shows like "Age of Persuasion" (about advertising!) and "White Coat, Black Art" (about the medical field... not about medicine, exactly, or science, but... things that matter to doctors, what it's like to be a doctor, that kind of thing). The CBC takes a long, languid approach to interviews and asks all the questions you can imagine of their guests. But they don't beat things to death.
Case in point: the day Bin Laden was killed (if it WAS Bin Laden... just kidding) the US networks, including NPR, talked about it all day. ALL DAY. They used the 8 pieces of information they had and just repeated them over and over, and expanded on those 8, and commented on the 8, and elicited comments about the 8. All. Day.
On the CBC they mentioned the killing at the top of the hour in the news roundup, and then WENT BACK TO THEIR REGULAR SCHEDULED PROGRAMMING!
I was amazed by that. They kept their culture show Q on-air, and rather than re-hashing the little bit of BL info, they interviewed the guy from Star Trek about whether there were enough acting possibilities for Asian Americans nowadays. The CBC didn't disregard the big news of the day, and I got the impression that if there was going to be more to tell, they'd tell me.
But here's the thing- that very same day was a massive national election day in Canada! And since this was morning, and there was nothing to report, they didn't bother reporting anything, until it was actually over. Well, I remember one story about people getting phone calls that their polling place had been moved (which wasn't true), but there was nothing about "I'm standing here at the blahblah polling site, and the people are standing in line to vote. You, sir, why are you voting today?" like we have to suffer every election day here, major or not as major.
So as a service to you, my dear "south of the border" friends, here's a list of my fave CBC shows:
Wiretap (a funny one. I listen to this show on my ipod while I'm grocery shopping, and often laugh out loud, confounding the angry old people who are shopping around me.)
Rewind (this one is pulled from the archives of the CBC and are so interesting, just the differences in attitudes about everything is striking in every show)
Vinyl Cafe (Canadian Prairie Home Companion. I love the stories. Somehow though every Canadian musician they feature sounds like a homey kind of Minnie Mouse...)
Age of Persuasion- (about the industry but FASCINATING! Plus, they play a lot of old ads from tv and radio, so fun)
The Debaters (they really do debate, but about funny things, and in funny ways. I often laugh out loud at my desk listening to this show)
Q (daily magazine show, culture and such- not TMZ but not artsy-schmartzy either.)
As It Happens (This daily news round-up show is worth a listen if only for the puns that they kick off the show with, based on the headlines. But also, they deal with real news and then some odd news too. A great mix.)
...and so many more. And while we're at it, here's a final word about how awesome Canada is:

(video credits on youtube)

It's true, after all.

As a child of the (ahem) late 60's, I was raised in newly post-Vatican 2 Church. I've often heard the Church of this time scoffed at because instead of teaching the Baltimore Catechism, they taught a near-constant and simple message of God's love. Well, I'll tell you what- that simple message has helped sustain my faith and inspired my learning (like, of the catechism!) every day since I was a child, in that groovy and love-filled Church. So in case you've forgotten, here's a reminder of something very important:
God Loves You - Video- Beliefnet.com

God Loves You.

As a child of the (ahem) late 60's, I was raised in newly post-Vatican 2 Church. I've often heard the Church of this time scoffed at because instead of teaching the Baltimore Catechism, they taught a near-constant and simple message of God's love. Well, I'll tell you what- that simple message has helped sustain my faith and inspired my learning (like, of the catechism!) every day since I was a child, in that groovy and love-filled Church. So in case you've forgotten, here's a reminder of something very important:
God Loves You - Video- Beliefnet.com

Almosting

It's an almost time of year. I'm almost done with school (until the summer session starts in July) and it's almost warm enough to switch to capri pants full-time. We're almost finished with a great season of faith formation and I'm almost ready to start doing LEX again. My garden is almost planted and the yard is almost clean, which means it's almost Friday Fires time again. I love this time of year but it is racing by so quickly that I keep reminding myself to PAY ATTENTION. Maybe by paying close attention I can avoid getting to the end of spring and feeling like I've missed it.
And for crying out loud, Scott and I have been married almost ten years. How on earth? I haven't even sent out all my thank you cards for the bridal shower yet! (If you haven't gotten yours yet, don't give up hope. I still have them, and they're even stamped! I supposed I'll need to add some postage now, though... better put that whole thing on hold.)
Now it's almost time for bed, and I should get some studying in before I turn in. I'm almost ready for this Old Testament final.

Get Moving

This weekend we headed to Martha's Vineyard (that's "The Vineyard" around here... you know, it's "On The Cape." I know I've lived in MA for almost 20 years now but I still can make fun of these people and their insider names for their towns and such. They're very proud of this, and donuts to dollars someone will correct me for that last statement, saying that The Vineyard is not technically on The Cape, or something...).
It was beautiful, and we stayed in a beautiful house that our beautiful friend rented. We were there for a fund raising ride, and true to my athletic form I did not one moment of training. I, let's face it, am a sedentary person.
This is really striking me nowadays, as I'm watching my mother abandon every effort to use her muscles. She's gotten weaker and weaker over the years, and now she's to the point that she has a chair that lifts her up, and a scooter which she apparently drives around her too-small house, rather than walking. Mom had a hard job raising 5 of us and keeping the house, but I've come to see that she (like me) would really rather sit still than do anything.
While people around me (really, an astonishing amount of people!) are struggling with real, serious illness, I find myself pondering: do I throw caution to the wind and live it up, for tomorrow I may die? Or do I start the preservation process? It seems crazy to turn down a mocha chip ice cream on a sugar cone with jimmies, when life is going by so darn fast. But in any case, I am really starting to see clearly that if one doesn't use it, one loses it. I don't want to lose it, so I need to get moving.

RIP OBL

So much about the news this week is fascinating to me. The night we heard about OBL's death, Scott crawled into bed with me and said "people are celebrating in the streets. I don't feel right about that." I don't either... I totally get people's happiness, their feeling of hopeful relief, and I know that something important has happened, in the death of this man. But, it reminds me of my feelings back when a locally infamous man was killed in prison, where he was serving a sentence for sexual abuse of a child (as a priest). At lunch one day, a friend told me how glad she was that this man had suffered and died, and I couldn't go there with her. A true introvert, I didn't argue my point against hers, but drove home thinking "why don't I feel like she feels? Why don't I want to feel like she feels?"
Which leads me to another fascination, which is how many places on facebook that I'm seeing people raise the question: should we be celebrating the death of this man, or anyone? I know my results will be skewed- my friend feed is full of Catholics and theology students- but I'm edified to see that it's not just me who hopes that (like Hitler, the long-standing bar-setter for people's questions about hell and forgiveness) OBL is in heaven, you know, however that works.

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:



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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
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