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!