Strange Homily (probably the first in a series)

The priest at the church we usually attend is a very knowledgeable and personable priest, and he can give some killer great homilies.  Several times I wish I'd recorded his homily just to be able to revel in it once more.  Other times, like last weekend, it's a real head-scratcher.  Allow me to paraphrase:

"We have a new bishop.  I haven't met him but I hear he's a great guy.  People ask me if I'd like to be a bishop.  I say, "No way!" Being a bishop is a terrible job.  Everyone is always mad at you.  But a bishop can do whatever he wants.  He doesn't answer to anyone but the Pope. He owns everything in the diocese: the churches, land, rectory, schools...he even owns me. 

As a priest, my job is the spiritual welfare of the people, but the only person I answer to is the bishop.  I'm in charge here, and I can do anything I want. 

God bless you."  

There must be a problem or issue in the parish that led to this sermon.  We thought that he was going to tie it in somehow to the elections, but....no.

How odd.

(n.b. He really does talk in short sentences as written above.)

Romney/Ryan 2012 Rallies

Mary has become more politically involved to help avoid another four years of the narcissist socialist BO, and to that end, she decided to drag the family to political rallies. Actually, they went along quite willingly, especially Elder Son who is fascinated by the political machine.

The first rally featured both Mitt Romney and Paul Ryan.  Because we weren't able to arrive early, we were stuck in traffic until the motorcade arrived.  The event didn't start for at least an hour after that, so we were able to move around a little to try to find a good standing spot.

These two Secret Service men gave me permission to snap their pic. They just looked so cool.

There was no good standing spot.  I don't really mind that for myself, but some of my children are shorter than me, and I didn't want them to be looking at a lot of backs and butts.  We walked back from whence we came, which took us up the hill from the staging area which was in the middle of a medium-sized town intersection.  We were able to see a little better, but then a campaign worker offered us free t-shirts if we would go sit in the bleachers at the END of the venue.  Scored two t-shirts, but then we were in what would be the nosebleed section if we were in an arena. At least it got us away from the loudspeakers blasting country music (with the notable exception of Boston's "More Than a Feeling".)

Later that evening, I found out that the next day, Mitt Romney would be in another town not too far from us.  I quickly got more tickets and decided to leave early enough to get there soon after the gates opened.

We got there about 30 minutes after the gate opened, scoring a close parking space, but unfortunately we weren't as close up as we'd hoped.

As we came up to this spot, where'd we need to stand for another two hours or so, a worker asked us to go up on those steps and cheer loudly when necessary.  I told her, though, that we'd prefer to be close to Mitt when he spoke.

After denying a reporter the chance to interview us (he was so disappointed!) we stood for a few minutes when another campaign worker asked if we'd stand on the steps.  I explained that we'd seen both Romney and Ryan the night before, but we were so far away and I wanted the kids to at least be able to see his face.  He said he'd been at the same place and knew I'd done a lot of driving.  "Tell you what; come with me," he said.  He led us to the VIP section and gave us each a VIP bracelet.  We ended up here.  This time we got to listen to live music, which was pretty good.  This rally appeared to be much better organized (or maybe it appeared that way simply because we were closer to the action.)

Mitt Romney finally came to the stage after numerous other candidates running for office, and a few local personalities.  After he finished speaking, he started shaking hands.  He shook a few, including mine, and then reached down to Younger Son and waited for him to raise his hand.  The little guy was thrilled (it was the first he'd smiled in a few hours) and then Older Son managed to also get a handshake.  The girls were unfortunately unable to bully their small bodies forward far enough. Maybe next rally! (DH wasn't feeling well and didn't attend.)

Four days later, Obarfa came into our town (oh darn I had to work in another city) and I snapped this wonderful sign that would greet His Majesty's royal subjects.

I fully realize that Romney isn't perfect; in fact, Santorum was my first choice.  But he at least has the knowledge and experience to pull this country out of the economic mess it's in.

For My Single Lady Friends

She carries the water from the well in the morning
While the sand burns her feet the sun only stares
And the loneliness lingers with slow grasping fingers
As the afternoon withers the flowers in her hair

Then night fills the sky as she sits on the hillside
And memories drift by like clouds past the stars
Recalling romances and all the bright chances
But none of them lasted. they passed through her heart

And she says -
Where is a man who can build a good fire
With a passion as wide as the sky at high noon
A man whose hand is strong as his longing
Where is the man who can lasso the moon

She falls asleep and her dreams are her blanket
And she shares with the moon the secret she knows
As the dawn leaves its tears to wash the dry valley
The tears of a woman can wash a man’s soul

And she says -
Where is a man who can build a good fire
With a passion as wide as the sky at high noon
A man whose hand is strong as his longing
Where is the man who can lasso the moon

And she says -
Where is a man who can build a good fire
With a passion as wide as the sky at high noon
A man whose hand is strong as his longing
Where is the man who can lasso the moon

And I say -
I am a man who can build a good fire
And my passion’s as wide as the sky at high noon
Come take my hand, it’s as strong as your longing
Just say the word and I’ll lasso the moon

Genesis -- The Lady Lies

The lyrics to this song remind me of a situation I've been discussing with a friend.  Pray for the parties involved.

Musically speaking, this is a terrific song with some pretty amazing progressions. Hard to believe it's from 1978.

The man steps out in the moonlight

At the sound of a scream from below.

He thinks he is a warrior

So he picks up his sword and goes.

From the mouth of the monster

He rescues the maiden fair.

But we know she's a demon

Come to lure him to demon's lair.

Through restless foliage and tall trees he leads

To a house in a clearing, a place in her fear she calls home.

"Come with me, I need you,

I fear the dark and I live all alone.

I'll give you wine and food too

And something special after if you like."

And though his body bids him

To enter in with her,

There was something in her manner

That his mind could not ignore.

Also it is whispered

In the kingdom far and wide,

To beware a little cottage

In the forest in a glade.

For who knows what magic takes place in his world?

So he just thanks her kindly preparing to go on his way.

"Come with me, I need you,

I fear the dark and I live all alone.

I'll give you wine and food too

And something special after if you like.

Come to my garden,

Taste the fruits and the spices of love.

You can't resist me,

I'm the kind that your dreams tell you of."

"So glad you could make it

We had everything arranged.

So glad you saw fit to pay a call."

Some men never listen,

And others never learn,

But why this man did as he did

Only he will ever know.

He knew he was walking

Into a waiting trap,

Neatly set up for him

With a bait so richly wrapped.

So he went inside there to take on what he found

But he never escaped them, for who can escape what he desires?

"Come with me, I need you,

I fear the dark and I live all alone.

I'll give you wine and food too

And something special after if you like."

Workshops, driving, gardens, and near-death experiences

Last week, Eldest Daughter attended a writing workshop in Eastern Pennsylvania.  Because of situations and circumstances, it became clear that I would drive her there, and the other children would come along too.  I was filled with trepidation because I tend to get quite tired while driving, three hours being pretty much the max I'd ever attempt, and I'd be doing the drive unaided.  All eight hours of it.

There was no use fretting since worrying would change nothing, and we set out Friday morning.  The drive was fairly uneventful, save for beautiful scenery and an unexpected early trip into Pennsylvania because I didn't print out the directions that I really wanted.

We arrived at the hotel and after settling in, decided that we desperately needed pizza from Anthony's Coal Fired Pizza.  We'd eaten at this chain in Pittsburgh, and it was truly the best I'd had in my life, albeit a little charred (as advertised.)  We finally found the restaurant in Wilmington, Delaware, no thanks to Apple's SIRI, and headed back to the hotel.  What a disappointment; it wasn't anything like Pittsburgh's Food of the Gods. But at least the salad was good. And we got to see a Tesla Roadster on the way.

Next morning we delivered Nervous Eldest Daughter to the workshop and the rest of us set off for Longwood Gardens. I figured any property that was over 1000 acres would keep us busy for a while.  Even though I'd seen pictures online, I wasn't prepared for the beauty of it all.  Youngest Son (nine years old) even asked how he could get a job there, and we were planning the next visit almost as soon as we arrived.  The place was so serene and peaceful, but probably only because it was still morning.  We found out later that evening is when the place starts looking like a city, because that's when lights illuminate everything, various shows (water and lights) are scheduled, and musical concerts take place.

The biggest surprise at Longwood Gardens is that it houses the world's largest home pipe organ which is used for a famous concert series, and there's also a pipe organ museum inside the conservatory.  What a coincidence!  Unfortunately, maintenance was being performed that day, so we didn't get to hear it. Sad face.

After retrieving Elated Eldest Daughter from the workshop, we attended Mass then returned to the gardens because I couldn't imagine her not seeing this place.  Aching feet and legs, and sheer exhaustion led us to leave earlier than we wanted, but c'est la vie.

Tree House.  One of the many ways to keep the kiddos entertained.

A note about the church where we attended Mass; the exterior looked like a ski lodge:

Or does it look like the West Virginia Welcome Center?

You be the judge.

I planned to return home by a different route that I thought would prove more scenic than the Pennsylvania Toll Road.  And in my naiveté I thought that Sunday morning traffic around the Baltimore beltway would be fairly light because, ya know, it's Sunday morning.

I was wrong.

The traffic was nearly nightmarish, not only being very busy but at high rates of speed. When we got the heck out of there, I figured we could stop in another city in Maryland for lunch, since I think we all agreed that the salami in the cooler was gross.  Unfortunately, lunch traffic there was out of control, so I reluctantly returned to the highway.

Things are a little sparse in those parts, so I drove for a while longer, and the time got later and later, but the kids weren't complaining about starving.  Mary, however, does not operate well when she lacks food, so I kept looking.  SIRI informed us there was a place to eat in a tiny town coming up.  I found the place; no one was parked there, and it just didn't "feel right."  Back on the highway.

Morgantown, West Virginia.  Middle of the afternoon. I see the sign for a Bob Evans.  We pull off, and sign informs us it's .6 miles away.  Over a mile later, it's clear that there's no Bob Evans and I realize it must have been at the shopping center at the exit.  I turn around, and...

What's that sound?

It's a disturbing racket coming from the front of the car on the right side.  I decide that I'm going to drive to the shopping center, and then will deal with it there.  No one is honking at me because something looks disturbing, and the car isn't driving like there's a flat tire.  We still hear the sound as we drive to the shopping center and we find the Bob Evans.  I believe the car is unsafe to drive, and send the kids inside to get something to eat while I call AAA.  (I would like the gentle reader to be assured that I've switched to present tense on purpose.)

After failing in my attempt to find a rental van, the tow truck shows up to inspect the crippled vehicle.  He drives it around the lot, parks, and tells me that a garage is going to charge me a whole lot of money to diagnose the problem, because this, this, and this could be a problem, but none of those things would make the car unsafe to drive.  However, before he leaves, he's going to check the lug nuts.  As he said that, Eldest Son (who'd finished eating and had come outside) and I looked down and noticed that a few of the lug nuts were positioned further out than the others.

As the tow truck driver guardian angel went to take the right front tire off, he wiggled it first.  THAT WAS THE SOUND.  Three of the lug nuts were loose, so the tire was rather floppy.  He cleaned up some dirt on the inside of the wheel, and repositioned the tire. He checked the other tires.  Four loose.  Two loose. Three loose. He tightened everything up, and we were on our way.

Thank God we'd not found a place to eat earlier; if we had, we would have been on the road as the wheel got looser and looser.  And I may not have heard the sound it was making, as we traveled at speeds up to 80 mph.  On mountain roads.  In heavy traffic.

This week I returned to the shop where the tires had been rotated earlier this month.  I told them what happened.  They were extremely apologetic, of course, and agreed to my demand of removing all charges for the "work."  The vehicle should be inspected for damage that may have occurred as a result of their negligence, but I haven't had time to do it yet.

We're just glad to be alive, because it could've turned out differently.

And there's much more that's happened this week, perhaps better left for another blog post.

Meanwhile, we're still planning the next trip to Longwood Gardens.

Brain Dump v.1

*deleted*

....and life goes on.

Those of you who know me in "real life" are aware that I enjoy certain automobiles.  OK -- the truth is that I'm a car nut.  Some of my children share my appreciation for the loud beasts that boast hundreds of horsepower, and to that end, we scheduled a trip to the Corvette Museum in Kentucky for another  look-see.

Most of you who read this blog are also aware that my father-in-law has been seriously ill for the last year, and I know that you've prayed fervently for our intentions and for his bodily healing.  Things were going very well for him until about the last six weeks.

When we realized things had taken a turn for the worse, we canceled our trip to the museum and instead went to my in-laws' house.  From there, some of the kids and I made a couple of day-trips to Pittsburgh while my husband stayed at home with his parents, just visiting and performing necessarily-neglected maintenance around the house.

One of our stops in Pittsburgh was St. Anthony's Chapel in the Troy Hill district, which boasts the largest collection of relics outside the Vatican.  We prayed in the presence of the Saints for the physical and spiritual healing of our loved ones.  Afterwards, we visited the Strip District and attended Mass at St. Stanislaus Kostka church.  (I won't do a Mass review, but will summarize charitably by saying that the church is terrific for picture-taking.)

Through the weekend, my father-in-law was feeling ill, but managed to chat and joke around with us, demand pictures of the churches in Pittsburgh, and enjoy the kids playing the Wii.

We left the house on Sunday afternoon after the usual lengthy good-byes, see-you-next-times, and love-yous.  I hugged my father-in-law, who was sitting in his bed, and held his head against my shoulder.  I felt his thin frame and wondered how he had the strength to hug me so tight.

My mother-in-law called very early the next morning and said that he was was having difficulty breathing and couldn't be awakened.  Although he was conscious later when my husband got there, he was barely able to communicate.  He died a few hours later after receiving the last rites of the Church.

My father-in-law was a very fine and good man and a true gentleman.  He was a man of honor who worked hard, loved his family and made many sacrifices in life for their good.  (He even drove to work two hours EACH WAY for six years so that he could provide for his family.)  He was smart, very funny, and could strike up an interesting conversation with anyone.

Although I'd like to wax poetic about the glories of heaven and the eternal reward of those who die in a state of grace, the truth is that his passing hurts like hell and we miss him terribly.

Requiescat in pace, Dad.