Friday, September 1, 2006

What Does This Quote Make You Think Of?

... infinitesimal distinctions between man and man are too paltry for an Omnipotent Being. How these madmen give themselves away! The real God taketh heed lest a sparrow fall; but the God created from human vanity sees no difference between an eagle and a sparrow. . .
Hearing it this morning read from Librivox, this jumped out at me from the rest of the story. I thought of pro-abortion people, judging that a tiny baby (even if only a few cells big at the time) is less important than all their daily affairs.

I was quite surprised.

The reason being that I was listening to one of my all-time favorite books ... read aloud by Librivox.

Dracula by Bram Stoker.

That's Reveille, Ma'am to You!

Reveille, the first lady of Aggieland, is the official mascot of Texas A&M University. She is the highest ranking member of the Corps of Cadets, and she is a Five-Star General.
Hannah saw Reveille being walked yesterday. She was on the way to class or would have summoned the courage to ask if she could meet and pet the honored Aggie mascot. However, we all showed our distinct lack of appreciation for tradition and the corp by bursting into laughter when she told us that cadets must address Reveille as "ma'am."

Thursday, August 31, 2006

Blog Design By ...

... the oh so fabulous, generous and talented Laura! Give her a hand folks ... isn't she fantastic?

Although the color changes showing up now are due to my tinkering and not Laura's design ... all shall be resolved in due time.

Also, as always when I change templates, Haloscan code is giving me fits ... comments will be back on eventually but for now I must run. Cheers, y'all!

Memoirs and the Family Tree

I mentioned my great-grandfather the other day.

A recap which probably only family members will care about: Charles J. Finger was famous in his own day, although that fame hasn't extended to the present day. My grandmother worshipped his memory and I heard countless stories about author Charles J. Finger. My grandmother told me that he was a regular correspondent with Jules Verne (or was it H.G. Wells?) and would write letters at a big table which my mother inherited and that stands in her living room today.

Looking around I was surprised to see that he has a mention in Wikipedia and the Encyclopedia Britannica (though I didn't subscribe to read the whole article). There's even a park named after him though that photo makes it look more like a field. Well, knock me over with a feather. Grandmama would be so proud.

This prompted my mother to reminisce about her days with her grandfather. I loved these memories of a little girl for her grandfather and of time spent in the country back then.
In reference to your entry about Charles J. Finger; I had no idea that he was so interestingly involved both in the literary and the down to earth business of making a living.

He was my grandfather, and I remember him as delightfully indulgent of a little girl. There was one afternoon when he encouraged me to look for a four leaf clover, and after finally inding one we went into the house and found another surprise: books! I can remember stealing up the lane to his separate office, which also included a pool table room where I played with the balls. I wasn't supposed to go up there and interrupt him, but of course I did. He died when I was seven years old, but his personal impact must have been immense because I remember him vividly (I'm 72), he was definitely a Leo personality although born in December.

The house was surrounded on two sides by what were known as sleeping porches, screened, and comfortable in Arkansas's hot summers. I remember having an outhouse to go to, and a freestanding "shower house" with cold sulpher water. There was also a wash house, which had its own walled yard (filled with cornflowers) for drying clothes. Neighboring ladies did the wash, and I seem to remember It having a hot water boiler. Lockers on the front screened porch of the house held wood for the cookstove on which water was heated, and I suppose for winter warmth. There was a stove in the middle of the house which heated some rooms; don't remember what the heat source was.

As long as I have started, I might tell more ... just because it's a bygone era. Cows were milked and the milk left to stand in wide pans on another screened porch, after which cream was skimmed for butter. My first food memory is of oatmeal, in an island of cream and topped with sugar.
My grandmother made wonderful plum jelly, quite tart, from wild plums that grew on the farm.

I never fell down a well, although often warned to stay away; they were just irresistable open holes in the ground, often with unfortunate rabbits floating there in.

There was a creek to wander along, always accompanied by one of the family Airdales. Along one side were shale banks where you could sit at the top and slither down on the seat of your pants for an exciting ride.

There were lots of freestanding stone buildings: my grandfather's office, my uncle Charlie's chicken house, the wash house, the shower, and my artist aunt Helen's studio with its two rooms, one of which was for serious drawing and the other of props for her Ozark themes( stone fireplace, milk churn, etc. )The studio and the house both looked west for beautiful sunsets. Apparently there was lots of cheap labor, and of course lots of stone. And speaking of milk churns, we did ours in a glass job where you could see the tiny flecks of butter emerging from the milk until it got too hard to crank.

A small flock of sheep were nutured here; I can still remember the way they smelled (hello... wet wool) as well as the bran they were fed. Once the ram butted me, and my grandfather bapped him on the head with a long pruning tool. And once I took Beverly, a small child, into the sheep lot, where everyone said she could have been trampled and killed. Also, speaking of Beverly, this was the farm where we were walking down the lane and she had to go to the bathroom, so I told her to go home. Unfortunately she walked by the entrance ... no one could find her ... a party was dispatched to see if she had fallen into the outhouse. Eventually an old gent who lived up the hill brought her home, and I hope he was very liberally tipped. The road was suspect, because at the top was a slaughterhouse, so trucks seemed to roar up and down.

I can remember Sunday afternoons when people would just show up at friends' houses and yell "Yoo-hoo". Then they would have to produce iced tea and chat. Oh, and what a yummy memory is the church fest where we had chocolate cake and ate it sitting on a swinging bridge over a creek.

Is this sounding just too Laura Ingalls Wilder? Well, maybe this was a step between her culture and and the time when you were born.

What a lot of memories! Maybe boring to you, but something you might like to know about my childhood years in Arkansas. Just think, I actually lived with these years ... no computers ... no hot water heaters ... and absolutely no air conditioning anywhere. There was running water.

The property was actually called "Gayeta Lodge", which I was always told meant "old soldiers' home".

What I Have "Failed to Do"

Idleness is a constant temptation to our human nature. Hitting the snooze button one more time, skipping or shortening our prayer, sitting back and letting others wait on us, not noticing what needs to be done, being content with a shoddy job, finishing what we prefer to do rather than being on time for a commitment, saying no to another’s pressing need—we all face temptations like this every day.
Read more at Word Among Us
This is the kind of thing that is my besetting sin ... literally! I struggle with it all day long. Which makes it rather frustrating if I go to confession and get a priest who tells me, "It's simple. Just set a schedule for yourself and stick to it." Well duh! Problem being that I have trouble with it!

However, even if I feel less than satisfied with the priest's advice, I still receive grace to give me extra strength to fight off these and other temptations and shortcomings, and absolution for all the times that I have failed and did not do what I should have.

Can y'all tell I'm working up toward going to confession soon?

Wednesday, August 30, 2006

Terrorists Are Getting Pretty Smart!

We're doomed!
Thanks to my brother for this one!
(Somehow I knew I should have put this caveat before receiving protests ... my brother is a retired soldier who has served in many areas including several assignments to Iraq and Afghanistan. It was making the rounds of his buddies who ... and this is only a guess ... I'd bet are in the military also.)

Tuesday, August 29, 2006

Novena to St. Michael, The Archangel: Day One

I am saying this for a friend's special intention.

Saint Michael the Archangel, loyal champion of God and His people,
I turn to you with confidence and seek your powerful intercession.
For the love of God, Who made you so glorious in grace and power,
and for the love of the Mother of Jesus, the Queen of the Angels,
be pleased to hear my prayer.

You know the value of my soul in the eyes of God.
May no stain of evil ever disfigure its beauty.
Help me to conquer the evil spirit who tempts me.
I desire to imitate your loyalty to God and Holy Mother Church
and your great love for God and people.
And since you are God’s messenger for the care of His people,
I entrust to you this special request:

(Mention your request).

Saint Michael, since you are, by the Will of the Creator,
the powerful intercessor of Christians,
I have great confidence in your prayers.
I earnestly trust that if it is God’s holy will my petition will be greated.

Pray for me, Saint Michael, and also for those I love.
Protect us in all dangers of body and soul.
Help us in our daily needs.
Through your powerful intercession,
may we live a holy life,
die a happy death, and reach heaven
where we may praise and love God with you forever.
Amen.

Monday, August 28, 2006

I don't even like Family Guy ...

... but this cracked me up.

Edge of the Sea ... a Russian Mission

I still lament the loss of Mary Herboth's wonderful blog and count myself lucky to be on her email list. She sends this request which I, in turn, present to you for consideration. Here is the blog for the mission she writes about.
Dear Brothers and Sisters in Christ,

I'm writing to you today to share a simple story of a missionary priest in Russia and to ask for your help. I need the help of fellow Catholics that may be willing to help out a friend in need. I have a friend, Fr. John Gibbons, who is a Franciscan missionary priest in Russia who needs our generosity.

Fr. John is living east of Siberia and is the only priest within a hundred miles. In fact, He is one of only a few Catholic priests in Russia at all. His work is not glamorous. He does not work with orphans or any other group that would invoke our deepest sympathies. He is a humble parish priest doing what parish priests are doing all around the world every day: he says Mass, hears confession, and shares in the life of those he pastors. The only difference is that he is doing it in place where priests were forbidden for so long that the Catholic faith was almost destroyed. Now he is starting again to answer the call of the Lord to preach and to baptize to the ends of the earth.

He arrived in Russia three years ago but has been in his parish for one year. His rectory is very small and very poor - so poor, in fact, that I feel that it is a shame to see our priests - or any human being - living in such conditions. He has no indoor plumbing, he uses an outhouse, gets water a block away, and he chops wood for heat. This is especially a sacrifice in a place where the temperature is below zero six months of the year. He lives like this to be "in solidarity" with the people who live in the same impoverished conditions. Our donations are not likely to change these things. What we give will help to bring Christ to them.

Fr. John is there to bring the Gospel to a people who were denied the Goodnews for many years. He is there to build a church - following the call of St. Francis - he is the prime example of "the missionary" that John Paul II spoke about in his letter on the Missionary life, "The special vocation of missionaries "for life"...is the model of the Church's missionary commitment, which always stands in need of radical and total self-giving, of new and bold endeavors."

Hearing about Fr. John is a grace for us too. It gives us a concrete way to contribute to the missionary Church, "...individual believers extend the reach of their charity and show concern for those both far and near. They pray for the missions and missionary vocations. They help missionaries and follow their work with interest."(JPII, RM)

Fr. John is in the United States right now to renew his visa and to raise awareness of the mission Church in Russia. He is here "to beg", as he says, "like a good Franciscan." When I heard the story of my long-time friend and saw the photos of his life I was moved to help. I made a decision to do two things 1) to share his story and 2) to simple ask every Catholic that I know to offer $10 for this mission.

$10 is not much. We spend that much at Starbucks or McDonalds or without even thinking about it. However, $10 for Fr. John's Mission would be much better spent. If enough people respond we can offer Fr. John a gift that will make a difference to his 50 parishioners. Just think, if we raise $5000 that will be $100 per person. With that Fr. John can buy bibles, catechisms, books, food, medicine or anything that his mission needs. Furthermore, I know that he can count on a few prayers to go with the donation. He says that the prayers are far more important because through prayer all his needs are met.

What About American Folk Songs?

About a week or so ago, I misheard Hannah. I can't remember what she really said, but what I thought she said was "goober peas." Which almost worked because we were talking about the Civil War but not quite.

After the gales of laugher died down, Rose asked why goober peas would make me think of the Civil War. Because of the song, of course. What song? Huh?

Here we go again.

Many times either Tom or I has hummed a few bars or sung a line or two of a classic American folk song (She'll Be Comin' 'Round the Mountain, Sweet Betsy of Pike, This Land is Your Land) only to draw a complete blank from both girls.

Both he and I remember all too well singing those songs in the bi-weekly music class in the fourth or fifth grades. If you lived in Kansas as I did back then you also learned some special Kansas folk songs which your class could perform for the monthly PTA meeting ("She's My Sunflower," *clap, clap, clap*).

Not these days. These days, Rose and Hannah explained, these days you learn folk songs from other countries. Rose giggled and said, "Mom, Mom, Mom, American folk songs aren't good enough! You've got to learn something from South Africa, even if you don't ever remember what those words mean!"

She broke into a lilting little song and Hannah dumbfounded me by joining in perfectly.

Now I don't particularly mind if they know South African folk songs. I, myself, learned Frere Jacque at a tender age as part of that age's multiculturalism effort.

However, is it too much to ask that all that multiculturalism include our own country? I know the politically correct answer but my own answer is a typically American, "Hell no!"

Saturday, August 26, 2006

148 Left ...


2,996 is a tribute to the victims of 9/11.

On September 11, 2006,
2,996 volunteer bloggers
will join together for a tribute to the victims of 9/11.
Each person will pay tribute to a single victim.

We will honor them by remembering their lives,
and not by remembering their murderers.

There are only 148 victims left to be assigned to bloggers and the organizer is trying not to assign more than one victim per blogger unless absolutely necessary to reach the goal.

I am proud to say that I will be honoring the life of Captain Daniel O'Callaghan, age 42, a firefighter who died heroically and was found with his set of Knights of Columbus rosary beads in hand.

If you'd like to sign up or just read more about this project, go to here.

Friday, August 25, 2006

Did You Cry?

The most frequently asked question about getting Hannah settled in at A&M.

The answer is ... not really though I do have a tendency to get a bit teary eyed at the oddest times. Now, whether that makes me a good mother or a bad mother I am not sure. I don't feel like boo-hooing but there is a nostalgic, melancholy feel to everything as we all adjust to having that big gap where Hannah has always been until now.

We had a good and easy trip (both ways), finally figured out how to get Hannah into her dorm room (4th floor, NO ELEVATOR y'all! Thank heavens for sturdy, polite young co-ed men who will haul boxes!), and the only crying on-site was when I glanced over my shoulder as we were leaving and could see on Hannah's face that she was trying not to break down. Which I did quite well at (the NOT breaking down part) until I was driving away and then I did sniffle a bit.

Hannah's roommate is just about the nicest girl you could ask for (she was the one who was waiting with box-carrying guys ... a good roommate obviously!). Hannah got together with some of her high school friends and they were hanging out together last night when I called.

So far the worst sufferers are the animals. Pepper (our Great Dane/black Lab mix) kept rushing to the front window and barking wildly at any cars that slowed down. I think he felt Hannah might be getting dropped off by a friend.

The cat may never be the same having to depend on the rest of us lowly mortals for enough affection to get through the day! She was not in her usual spot this morning and then appeared looking all rumpled as if she'd woken late and bolted out of her spot without a morning toilette. She then swarmed onto my lap and purred loudly (not the usual routine I assure you).

Thursday, August 24, 2006

Hi Ho, Hi Ho, to A&M We Go!

Yep, today's the big day when we load the station wagon and head to College Station.

in my absence, here are a few things I found interesting.

Crusin' for a Bruisin' ... poor Tom Cruise, how will he provide for his family now that Paramount has given him the boot for his bizarre behavior?

Crunchy Con ... I read enough reviews of this book to feel that it was way too defined for me. I figured reading all those definitions would just send my blood pressure soaring. Then Steven Riddle began praising it. That's a sign of how much I trust his judgement ... I began to reconsider my position. Not to worry though! Deeper into it he has run into the same sorts of thoughts that I had when reading the reviews ... here and here. Whew!

Autumn Reading Challenge ... oh Mama T, how you influence me! First she numbered the books she read. What an interesting idea. Me too! Then she also gave brief summaries of them. Another good idea ... though I am less thorough about that than she but ... me too! Now she tells about how her Summer Reading Challenge went. Another good idea to assign oneself some of those books that have been taking up shelf space for a long time but not getting read for whatever reason. She's getting ready for her Autumn Challenge and that's another idea I am turning over in my mind. I like it. I like it a lot. For one thing it means making a list. And I am all about lists.

New Way to Harvest Embryonic Stem Cells ... American Papist has the story as well as lotsa links. I am reserving judgment. It looks like a good deal ... but lets see what everyone says and give it some time.

The Rules Aren't Changing, They're Being Applied ... canon lawyer Ed Peters has an interesting post about this.

The Dictatorship of Artificial Contraception ... Nate reminds us where the fundamental base of the culture of death begins.

Wednesday, August 23, 2006

The Catholic Home: Better Than Ever

THE CATHOLIC HOME
by Meredith Gould
For many of today's Catholics, the ethnic customs that celebrate the birth, life, death, and resurrection of the Christ have been lost, forgotten, or abandoned for the sake of assimilation. And while folk traditions are neither a substitute for faith nor compelling evidence for reverence, they do help to stimulate and sustain awareness. We have to start somewhere.

I believe that celebrating Catholic customs in the domestic church can serve to reenliven Catholic identity in ways that Mass attendance simply cannot, although I, for one, miss Mass when I miss Mass...
I did a brief review of this book previously at Spero News along with a few others which I find helpful in celebrating liturgical holidays through the year. Now I see that the paperback edition has come out and in looking through it I am reminded of just what a treasure it is to any family that wants to have daily devotion as part of their lives.

Even if you are well versed in reinforcement of Catholic liturgy through home traditions Gould's book serves as a good reminder of following the liturgical calendar through the year. I really appreciated having everything supported by a quote from the Catechism and the author's Jewish heritage adds nice depth to showing the customs as completion of Jewish tradition. Certainly I appreciate her breaking ordinary time into two sections so that the book's order of contents follows the year.

Gould also has a nice touch on regular daily devotions such as reminding us that simply dressing up and dashing out the door to be on time for weekly Mass just isn't enough. How about looking through the Sunday readings first so we have a bit of a frame of reference for what we will be hearing? She offers good, solid advice about such things as daily family prayer, regular Scripture reading, and much more. These things are the reason I give this book as a wedding gift to Catholic couples more than any other.

The publishers took the opportunity to revise the book while they were coming out with the paperback edition. I didn't even notice until flipping through and comparing the two just how often the liturgical colors had been gotten wrong in the first edition. The author mentions this in the forward and I feel for her humiliation.

They also took the opportunity to add an appendix with all the names of Mary ... an amazing list and I had no idea that such a thing would fill so many pages! It would provide ample material for meditation just considering those titles and how Mary, as the first Christian, is worthy of our imitation.

The layout also has been tidied up some. Not that the previous layout was bad at all, but comparing pages you can see how they fixed awkward page breaks. That is probably something only someone who has worked in graphic arts for so long would notice in the first place but it will make the book flow more smoothly in reading.

The liturgical colors information was the most necessary revision but the other changes just make the book easier to use and a more valuable resource than ever. Highly recommended.

Tonypandy

Continuing yesterday's exploration of Tonypandy.
Presently Grant put his hand out, wordlessly, and Carradine gave him a cigarette and lighted it for him.

They smoked in silence.

It was Grant who interrupted the sparrows' performance.

"Tonypandy," he said.

"How's that?"

But Grant was still far away.

"After all, I've seen the thing at work in my own day, haven't I?" He said, not to Carradine but to the ceiling, "It's Tonypandy."

"And what in the heck is Tonypandy?" Brent asked. "It sounds like patent medicine. Does your child get out of sorts? Does the little face get flushed, the temper short, and the limbs easily tired? Give the little one Tonypandy, and see the radiant results." And then, as Grant made no answer: "All right, then; keep your Tonypandy. I wouldn't have it as a gift."

"Tonypandy," Grant said, still in that sleep-walking voice, "is a place in the South of Wales."

"I knew it was some kind of physic."

"If you go to South Wales you will hear that, in 1910, the Government used troops to shoot down Welsh miners who were striking for their rights. You'll probably hear that Winston Churchill, who was Home Secretary at the time, was responsible. South Wales, you will be told, will never forget Tonypandy!"

Carradine had dropped his flippant air.

"And it wasn't a bit like that?

"The actual facts are these. The rougher section of the Rhondda valley crowd had got quite out of hand. Shops were being looted and property destroyed. The Chief Constable of Glamorgen sent a request to the Home Office for troops to protect the lieges. If a Chief constable thinks a situation serious enough to ask for the help of the military a Home Secretary has very little choice in the matter. But Churchill was so horrified at the possibility of the troops coming face to face with a crowd of rioters and having to fire on them, that he stopped the movement of the troops and sent instead a body of plain, solid Metropolitan Police, armed with nothing but their rolled-up mackintoshes. The troops were kept in reserve, and all contact with the rioters was made by unarmed London police. The only bloodshed in the whole affair was a bloody nose or two. The Home Secretary was severely criticised in the house of Commons incidentally for his 'unprecedented intervention.' That was Tonypandy. That is the shooting down by troops that Wales will never forget."

"Yes," Carradine said, considering. "Yes. It's almost a parallel to the Boston affair. Someone blowing up a simple affair to huge proportions for a political end."

"The point is not that it is a parallel. The point is that every single man who was there knows that the story is nonsense, and yet it has never been contradicted. It will never be overtaken now. It is a completely untrue story grown to legend while the men who knew it to be untrue looked on and said nothing."

"Yes. That's very interesting; very. History as it is made."

"Yes. History."

"Give me research. After all, the truth of anything at all doesn't lie in someone's account of it. It lies in all the small facts of the time. An advertisement in a paper. The sale of a house. The price of a ring."

Tuesday, August 22, 2006

Happy Birthday Hannah!


If I had my way (as well as unlimited time) Hannah's cake would look like this. However, that's not gonna happen. She selected this classic combination of Southern Ginger Cake with Buttercream Frosting. Mmmm ... We'll go out for seafood first. We'll be taking her to college on Thursday but I'm glad she opted to stay home for a few extra days so we could celebrate her birthday first.

(This post will be left at the top of the blog all day so scroll down for any new posts.)

The Thunderer

If you read this out loud you will get the most benefit from it.

God’s angry man, His crotchety scholar
Was Saint Jerome,
The great name-caller
Who cared not a dime
For the laws of Libel
And in his spare time
Translated the Bible.
Quick to disparage
All joys but learning
Jerome thought marriage
Better than burning;
But didn’t like woman’s
Painted cheeks;
Didn’t like Romans,
Didn’t like Greeks,
Hated Pagans
For their Pagan ways,
Yet doted on Cicero all of his days.

A born reformer, cross and gifted,
He scolded mankind
Sterner than Swift did;
Worked to save
The world from the heathen;
Fled to a cave
For peace to breathe in,
Promptly wherewith
For miles around
He filled the air with
Fury and sound.
In a mighty prose
For Almighty ends,
He thrust at his foes,
Quarreled with his friends,
And served his Master,
Though with complaint.
He wasn’t a plaster sort of a saint.

But he swelled men’s minds
With a Christian leaven.
It takes all kinds
To make a heaven.

From "Times Three" by Phyllis McGinley

CONGRATULATIONS TO LAURA H.

It is with a joyful and humble heart that I announce to you this day, on the memorial of the Queenship of Mary, the decision to pursue a vocation to the religious life as a sister - currently with the Franciscan Sisters of the Renewal. Today marks four months of active discernment following an almost indescribable experience in which I 'just knew' God was calling me to Himself in this most intimate way.
She has more about her discernment to this point. Go congratulate her and keep her in your prayers. Woohoo!

40 Million School Books Can't Be Wrong

One of the pleasures of revisiting favorite books from long ago is the changed perspective that one brings from the passage of years. I read and reread my favorites of Josephine Tey's mysteries when I was in high school ... Daughter of Time, The Franchise Affair, and Brat Farrar.

Rereading them all recently I discovered that not only were did they hold up splendidly as mysteries and portraits of a certain time in England, but that Tey used each to put forward specific commentary about issues in which she evidently took great interest.

Brat Farrar, a wonderful tale of a stranger carefully coached to enter a family as the heir who supposedly committed suicide many years ago, is also a love letter to English country living and horses.

The Franchise Affair, which I will post excerpts of later, is a tribute to the solid goodness of the English character as well as an exposure of the problem of media abuse. (More of that later.)

The Daugher of Time, my personal favorite of the three, was written in 1951 and considers the problem of history being rewritten to reflect the prejudices of those who come into power later. Tey tells the story through Inspector Grant who is laid up in the hospital with a broken leg and who becomes fascinated with a contemporary portrait of Richard III that bears no resemblance to the jealousy-ridden multiple murderer of Shakespeare's play. With the help of an American scholar, he applies his detective's mind to discovering the truth about what kind of man Richard III truly was and who actually killed the little princes in the Tower.

She introduces the idea of "Tonypandy" which deserves to be better known and which is the topic of this excerpt.
"Forty million school books can't be wrong," Grant said after a little.

"Can't they?"

"Well, can they!"

"I used to think so, but I'm not so sure nowadays."

"Aren't you being a little sudden in your scepticism?"

"Oh, it wasn't this that shook me."

"What then?"

"A little affair called the Boston Massacre. Ever heard of it?"

"Of course."

"Well, I discovered quite by accident, when I was looking up something at college, that the Boston Massacre consisted of a mob throwing stones at a sentry. The total casualties were four. I was brought up on the Boston Massacre, Mr. Grant. My twenty-eight inch chest used to swell at the very memory of it. My good red spinach-laden blood used to seethe at the thought of helpless civilians mowed down by the fire of British troops. You can't imagine what a shock it was to find that all it added up to in actual fact was a brawl that wouldn't get more than local reporting in a clash between police in strikers in any American lock-out."

As Grant made no reply to this, he squinted his eyes against the light to see how Grant was taking it. But Grant was staring at the ceiling as if he were watching patterns forming there.

"That's partly why I like to research so much," Carradine volunteered, and settled back to staring at the sparrows.

To be continued ...

Monday, August 21, 2006

Does Everyone Know What Day It is?


Prison Break starts today!

Rose's hopes of seeing any of the Prison Break cast as they filmed around Dallas this summer have not been fulfilled. However, there is much more of the season to film, we have seen signs on a nearby thoroughfare telling the crew where to park, and hope springs eternal. In the meantime, watching the show will do just fine.