40% Off Sale at Aquinas and More

Starting today and going through the rest of the month Aquinas and More is having a 40% off inventory reduction sale.

You know you're from Texas when ...

... a new sidebar feature. Because I realized that I am actually living the statements about hot weather.

Now that it's routinely over 100 degrees.

Routinely meaning: every. single. day.

106 yesterday ... so I'm just sayin' that I now have hit that time of year when I put ice cubes in the "cold" tap water I am using to wash lettuce. Because we don't want it to wilt, do we? Otherwise, it would. Oh, it would.

Of course, there is more to being from Texas than that. But you will all understand why I'm relating to the hot weather stuff.

A Little Bit of Flannery ... and How to See

More from The Habit of Being.

To Ben Griffith
4 May 1955

[...]

Occasionally I see the Georgia Review but not often; however, it would be very agreeable to me to see something written about my work for local consumption by somebody who knows something. Recently I talked in Macon (nobody had ever heard tell of me, of course) and it was announced in the paper the next day that I was a "writer of the realistic school." I presume the lady came to this conclusion from looking at the cover of the drugstore edition of Wise Blood. In a few weeks I am going to talk to some more ladies in Macon and I am going to clear up that detail. I am interested in making up a good case for distortion, as I am coming to believe it is the only way to make people see.

Flannery O'Connor, The Habit of Being

Oops!

I just discovered that in the conversion to the new template, a large portion of the blogroll didn't come over. I'm fixing that ... my apologies whose blogs got dropped off.

Dog Days of Summer Meme

Ironic Catholic tagged me with this which calls for me to name my five favorite devotions ... hmmm, devotions, let me think. I am not sure if these are all what one would call "devotions" but they are some of my favorite things.

My five favorite devotions:

• The Sacred Heart of Jesus novena
  
• Adoration (or just sitting in front of the tabernacle)
  
• My Guardian Angel
  
• Praying for the souls in Purgatory
  
• The Holy Spirit prayer (Come Holy Spirit ...)
  

And I tag:

• The Paragraph Farmer
• The Curt Jester
• Will Duquette
• Deacon Greg
• Ambrose-a-rama
  

Rosary for Job Seekers

I always am interested in different meditations on the rosary mysteries. They help me stretch my point of view.

These from The Anchoress are particularly appropriate to these trying times.

Emails and Pleasantries and Courtesy. Oh My!

A friend of mine (hi, Rita!) has a very good policy of not answering emails until she can take enough time to truly communicate her thoughts. Just as one would in a letter, you know.

You hear often that there is no way to be pleasant in emails or to communicate tone.

That is not really true, if one thinks about it. It is just an excuse for not spending the few extra minutes to take the trouble to add an extra sentence or phrase to make sure that you are not coming off as curt or rushed. In turn, that makes sure that the person reading your email doesn't feel as if their question is stupid or they are just idiots in general.  For heaven's sakes, people, a lot of the time all you have to do is toss in a smiley face here or there.

I would rather wait for someone to be sure they have taken the time to communicate properly than to be made to feel stupid or needy or as if I shouldn't have written at all. Despite my somewhat famous speed in responding to emails, for certain correspondence I will often wait a day or two for that very reason. I want to pay the writer the courtesy of responding with full attention. I have received such winning emails from podcast listeners or blog readers who manage to make very good points in very nice ways. I always appreciate it. So I try to do the same. I am sure I succeed only part of the time. But I like to try anyway.

Jesus Wants Me to Be Here

Jesus wants me to be here. I had nothing else to say or to feel but gratitude and happiness. He wants me to be here, in his presence, which is something, I’m sorry to say, had not occurred to me in a long time.

This summer, for a number of reasons, has been a distant one for me and God. So many Sunday mornings spent in the little cry booth at our church, which is unventilated and heavily populated. For the first time in my adult life I have considered leaving a Mass. I actually didn’t want to be there, sat in that booth, unable to breastfeed a squeaky baby because of a well-intentioned Dad who was giving his wife a chance to pray in the Sanctuary. The quarters were too close, the baby too likely to lift my shirt of his own accord, and I was grousing through the Eucharistic prayer, and thought I might just leave. What’s the point?

He wants me to be here.

Whether I receive the Eucharist or not, whether I pray well or not, whether I have confessed my sins or not, whether I’m loving the people around me or wanting to wrench them. Just be there—sit it out, and the grace will come—maybe in the shape of a petite gray haired woman who has nothing else on her agenda but to do me a wholly unwarranted kindness.

Go read Betty Duffy's post about going to adoration. It is evocative to me of many things from the Beyond Cana retreat this weekend as we were surrounded by young parents who struggle to find time for prayer amidst the seething that young children can do in church. I also treasure it as a reminder for every one of us. None of us remember it enough no matter what our circumstances. We don't have to have young children to think, "What's the point?" Thanks Betty for reminding me ...  Jesus wants me to be here.

Quick Updates

Beyond Cana Retreat: It went really well and nine couples went home with those glowing faces of renewed love. Thank you so very much to those who prayed for us. Two big challenges were thrown at us over the weekend, both for the same segment of time, interestingly. I believe that Tante Leonie, who was moved to pray the St. Michael prayer several times for us, was being aimed at that segment's particular need. Whatever the source, all went very well. We have now either been the Weekend Facilitators or Spiritual Directors for this retreat nine times running. We'll continue helping out some but definitely will be backing away from so much direct involvement on the weekends. The retreat team is now a wonderful blend of experienced couples and new, enthusiastic couples with some fresh ideas on enhancing what is there without stepping on the solid core of the retreat. It is a treat to see and bodes very well for the future of the retreat at our parish.

Zoe versus the Cone: Or "E-collar" as vets call it. Showing that nature is nothing if not resilient, she now can wrestle with Wash, pick up and chew a rawhide bone, and ... wait for it ... get out of the dog door ... all wearing that crazy clear collar. She can't get back in the dog door with it, for some reason, so every so often someone will be walking by a patio door (there are three in different rooms) and see her standing there waiting to be let in. She is still in the same hip-to-toe bandage that was put on last week (with a little extra taping around the top) and we should get it off ... tomorrow! YAY!

Linguine with Broccoli

Coming right up at Meanwhile, Back in the Kitchen.

In which Davies and Carruthers receive a great surprise ...

Yes, chapter 23 of The Riddle of the Sands is up at Forgotten Classics. Short but sweet. Short because the Beyond Cana retreat begins tomorrow and I have no time. Sweet, because despite past performance on a retreat week, there IS a podcast. YAY!

Dogs and Eggs ... and Bandages

The Anchoress is going through the sort of suffering that the owners of old and beloved pets find themselves in. Begging her dog to just taste a soft-boiled egg.

It makes me think of when our Daffy would only eat banana bread. When she would not even eat it from my hand anymore then I knew it was time for her to go.

Somehow pets can twist us up like that. Even when they are not aged and ill.

As I well know from this week's experiences. Zoe, our female Boxer had a tiny tumor removed (cancerous, but they got all the edges). They had to remove so much skin that they weren't sure the staples would hold the edges together. She promptly tested them upon returning home by joyously leaping over a low patio wall not once, not twice, not even thrice, but four times. The stitches withstood that.

But wait, there's more.

She has an E-collar (cone of shame) and it is clear so she rams into everything full speed. Including the backs of people's legs. I now have a line of bruises up the back of the leg she favors trotting behind.

Her collar now has surgical wrap around the outside edge to help her "see" it and around the neck edge because all that ramming was rubbing a sore on her neck.

She has figured out how to prop her collar against her body and extend her head (kind of like the jaws in Aliens) so as to get to her itching leg and managed to remove the middle stitches.

Several days of repeatedly rebandaging the leg followed. THEN in order to alleviate the problems being caused by the draconian and frequent rebandaging needed to keep her from dislodging the wrapping ... yesterday they wound up bandaging her from hip to bottom of paw. Which we can't get wet, so we have to somehow affix a plastic baggie to her foot whenever she goes out. Of course, it rained last night.

We won't even get into the fact that it has taken her several days to figure out how to eat and drink without us holding little bowls to her collar. Now that she has, there is the fun that comes from her triumphant whipping of her head aloft when she is finished. Whatever was left in the bowl goes flying.

I am so very grateful that Rose has been home all week (though Rose may be less so at this point) so that there is someone to keep an eye on this crazy dog during this ordeal.

Oh the things we go through for our dear pets.

A Little Bit of Flannery ... and Fascism

Yesterday I wound up reading a long conversation about the new liturgy in a forum where one would not normally find such a thing. Among other things, there was an extremely angry person who continually called the pope a fascist and, as far as I could gather, seemed to feel that in stating her opinion in the most angry and forceful way possible, she was following in the steps of those who helped the Church stay on course. No amount of conversation, whether gentle or spirited (and there were both sorts) was enough to shake her set beliefs.

I was left to my own thoughts on whose steps she felt she was following and, therefore, my thoughts turned to the great saints who have been instrumental in changing the Church in the past. St. Francis of Assisi and St. Teresa of Avila are those who always come to my mind, although I never can think of examples where they were not obedient and respectful as well as continually trying to effect change. Not being educated extensively in their writings, I could be wrong, of course.

Most mystifying of all to me was the repeated appellation of Pope Benedict as a "fascist." I don't really understand what that means and I surely don't understand why it would be applied to him. It was, therefore, with delight that this morning I read in The Habit of Being, Flannery's own response to being called a fascist because she was Catholic.

To "A."6 september 55

I looked in my Webster's and see it is 1948, so you are five years ahead of me in your vocabulary and I'll have to concede you the word. But I can't concede that I'm a fascist. The thought is probably more repugnant to me than to you, as I see it as an offense against the body of Christ. I am wondering why you convict me of believing in the use of force? It must be because you connect the Church with a belief in the use of force; but the Church is a mystical body which cannot, does not, believe in the use of force (in the sense of forcing conscience, denying the rights of conscience, etc.). I know all her hair-raising history, of course, but principle must be separated from policy Policy and politics generally go contrary to principle. I in principle do not believe in the use of force, but I might well find myself using it, in which case I would have to convict myself of sin. I believe and the Church teaches that God is as present in the idiot boy as in the genius. ...

Whether or not this has any application to that pitifully angry person's labeling of the pope is anybody's guess. But I liked what Flannery said anyway.

It's a design thing. The cat is lost in the negative space.

From: Shannon Walkley
Date: Monday 21 June 2010 9.15am
To: David Thorne
Subject: Poster

Hi
I opened the screen door yesterday and my cat got out and has been missing since then so I was wondering if you are not to busy you could make a poster for me. It has to be A4 and I will photocopy it and put it around my suburb this afternoon.



This is the only photo of her I have she answers to the name Missy and is black and white and about 8 months old. missing on Harper street and my phone number.
Thanks Shan.

From: David Thorne
Date: Monday 21 June 2010 9.26am
To: Shannon Walkley
Subject: Re: Poster

Dear Shannon,
... Although I have two clients expecting completed work this afternoon, I will, of course, drop everything and do whatever it takes to facilitate the speedy return of Missy.


 

 From: Shannon Walkley
Date: Monday 21 June 2010 10.24am
To: David Thorne
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Poster

yeah thats not what I was looking for at all. it looks like a movie and how come the photo of Missy is so small?

David is living every designer's nightmare. It's like having a truck. Instead of everyone wanting you to help them move, they all would like design favors.

The saga goes on and is more amusing all the time. See the whole thing here.

Thanks to my brother for the email that made me search out the website.

Why the miracles we ask for, the miracles we expect, may not come through.

My friend The Practicing Catholic has been suffering since her father died. I have missed her, both in person and online. I know she is struggling and I also know that there is not much I can do about it other than to pray for her.

So you might understand why I was thrilled to see a new post from her. Little did I suspect that in talking about her own trials, she would cement my recent decision to give The Chronicles of Narnia one more try. Go read it all ... but here is the bit that struck me personally.

I recently recalled a passage in C.S. Lewis’ The Magician’s Nephew. Lewis possessed a wonderful understanding of pain and grief and persevering in faith. He wrote many great things on these subjects, but none of them have resounded with me quite so much as this passage from one of his books for children.

In this scene, the Lion Aslan, confronts the boy Digory, who has awakened the evil Witch/Queen in Aslan’s newly created land of Narnia:

“Son of Adam,” said Aslan. “Are you ready to undo the wrong that you have done to my sweet country of Narnia on the very day of its birth?”

“Well, I don’t see what I can do,” said Digory. “You see, the Queen ran away and–”

“I asked, are you ready?” said the Lion.

“Yes,” said Digory. He had had for a second some wild idea of saying “I’ll try to help you if you’ll promise to help my Mother,” but he realized in time that the Lion was not at all the sort of person one could try to make bargains with. But when he had said “Yes,” he thought of his Mother, and he thought of the great hopes he had had, and how they were all dying away, and a lump came in his throat and tears in his eyes, and he blurted out:

“But please, please–won’t you–can’t you give me something that will cure Mother?” Up till then he had been looking at the Lion’s great feet and the huge claws on them; now, in his despair, he looked up at its face. What he saw surprised him as much as anything in his whole life. For the tawny face was bent down near his own and (wonder of wonders) great shining tears stood in the Lion’s eyes. They were such big, bright tears compared with Digory’s own that for a moment he felt as if the Lion must really be sorrier about his Mother than he was himself.

“My son, my son,” said Aslan. “I know. Grief is great. Only you and I in this land know that yet. Let us be good to one another. But I have to think of hundreds of years in the life of Narnia.”

A Little Bit of Flannery

I am back to reading The Habit of Being, a collection of Flannery O'Connor's letters. She is such a likable person and alternately insightful and humorous ... so naturally I am going to try to find time to share some tidbits with you.

This one is a bit out of order but I thought I'd start off with something light. And it is such toss-offs that make me wish I'd known her.

To Sally and Robert Fitzgerald
3/5/54

I am sending you off the mixes and whatnot tomorrow and I hope you get them before the worm does. I found it all but the Maltex. The Southern child lives in such a rich environment that he don't need Maltex and it is not to be found in this community. I substituted an angel-food cake mix that Mama dotes on. All you do is spit on it or something and you got an angel-food cake. ...

In Which Carruthers Does Some Spying ...

... in the further adventures of The Riddle of the Sands, Episode 127 at Forgotten Classics. Get it while it's hot!

Something I Really LIke - Pupcakes!

Hannah had a gift certificate to Target and came home with Hello, Cupcake! and What's New, Cupcake? which she promptly proceeded to use. Luckily, she was provided with the perfect event as the vet where she works is having a goodbye party today for two vet techs who are going away to college.

These were amazingly easy. Plus, they will taste as good as they look as Hannah eschewed the authors' cake mix and canned frosting suggestions and baked from scratch chocolate cupcakes to adorn with real buttercream frosting. Now that's how you do it!

Well, Would You Look At That ...

... my little piece for the Future of Catholicism is up today. When I say little, I'm not kidding. But, you know, when you have just one thing to say you don't need to go on and on. And my one thing ... it's pretty big.

Plus, The Anchoress twisted my arm and got a photo out of me. So for anyone who is not satisfied with a purple-haired avatar, that is one more reason to check it out.

If you are dropping by from the Symposium, welcome!

can I interpret this past Sunday's Gospel reading as scriptural proof that Jesus doesn't want me to cook or clean?

The Crescat asks the question and then backs it up with visual proof. How is she always so funny?