So, we had this great 10 year old cat named Jack who just recently died. Jack was a great cat and the kids would carry him around and sit on him and nothing ever bothered him. He used to hang out and nap all day long on this mat in our bathroom.
Well we have 3 kids and at the time of this story they were 4 years old, 3 years old and 1 year old. The middle one is Eli. Eli really loves chapstick. LOVES it. He kept asking to use my chapstick and then losing it. So finally one day I showed him where in the bathroom I keep my chapstick and how he could use it whenever he wanted to but he needed to put it right back in the drawer when he was done.
Last year on Mother's Day, we were having the typical rush around and try to get ready for Church with everyone crying and carrying on. My two boys are fighting over the toy in the cereal box. I am trying to nurse my little one at the same time I am putting on my make-up. Everything is a mess and everyone has long forgotten that this is a wonderful day to honor me and the amazing job that is motherhood.
We finally have the older one and the baby loaded in the car and I am looking for Eli. I have searched everywhere and I finally round the corner to go into the bathroom. And there sits Eli. Applying my chapstick very carefully to Jack's...rear end. Eli looks right into my eyes and says 'chapped.'
Now if you have a cat, you know that he is right--their little rear ends do look pretty chapped. And, frankly, Jack didn't seem to mind. And the only question to really ask at that point was whether it was the FIRST time Eli had done that to the cat's behind or the hundredth.
And THAT is my favorite Mother's Day moment ever because it reminds us that no matter how hard we try to civilize these glorious little creatures, there will always be that day when you realize they've been using your chapstick on the cat's rear.
Doug, of course.
Saturday, May 10, 2008
Pentecost At Wenchoster
My word! I'm late in posting the news from the Pharisaios Journal of the Diocese of Wenchoster. The feast of Pentecost, or Whit Sunday, as they say "over there", is nearly upon us, and the bishop's column offers a preview of the exciting activities that will take place at the cathedral celebration of the feast day and opens a window into the excitement with which the bishop is anticipating his journey to Lambeth.
Hello! You know, I get very exsated before a jarney, end this forthcoming trip to Limbeth is no except-i-on. I know thet it is two months away, but I awlways start pecking arly for these things. I have drawn up a list, a little list, thet should stend me in good stead during may tame away: Wit weather vestments (well, it is July!), a spar mater, green Wellingtons (Cenon Pillover hes lent me har spar par), plinty of rugged underwar, end may Swiss Army pin-knife just in case. If any of you cen think of anything else I may kneed please lit me know.
We approach the great Day of Pintecost. Whit Sinday! May, what a spring joy! I will join the cwarboys at the top of the tar for the singing of the Whit Enthems – end we will awl be penting heavily. There are 412 stips, you know! Then orf to the Nane Bills to join the tenors end basses in the snug for a rind of Old Sheep Spittle. I will surely have to take a long nip thet afternoon.
Es we clean end prepar the green frontals for the long season ahead, may the Holy Spirt lead us into awl things – end show us the way home afterwards!
The Lawd bliss you!
+ Roderick Codpiecium
Are you with me in wanting to give a hearty "Hello!" back to Bishop Codpiecium after his cheery greeting? Sometimes I do, as I sit at my computer. I always go first to the bishop's column when I visit the site of the journal. The bishop's column and the always-wise words for the liturgical season from Mr. Grindle, the head verger, are my favorite features. It appears that Mr. Grindle has no special words for us this Pentecost. Perhaps he was too busy with preparations for the feast to have time to write.
While you're at the journal's site, be sure to explore the rich treasury of religious paintings, icons, pictures there.
The headquarters of the The Society for the Promotion and Inculcation of Theology, or SPIT, are situated at the cathedral. Here's the link to their most recent newsletter, from which I offer an excerpt from the spotlight article:
HEALING WITH SPIT (AND DIRT)
It has been suggested that the origins of S.P.I.T occurred when the healed blind men met each other. At first they were all excited about the miracle of sight that Jesus had given them, but as they talked about how Jesus had healed them, they began to discover some significant differences.
For some, the healing came with simply a touch from Jesus (Mt 9:29; 20:34). Another proudly boasted that he had enough faith so that Jesus didn't have to touch him to perform the miracle (Mk 10:52). Another meekly exclaimed that Jesus not only
touched him twice, but also "spit on his eyes" in order for him to see clearly (Mk 8:23). The final one really felt embarrassed to admit that even though a touch wasn't part of his healing, Jesus' "spit" wasn't enough. Jesus had mixed his saliva with dirt and put the mud on his eyes and then told him to go and wash in some pool of water (Jn 9:6-7). Since each one thought his healing was normal and better than the others, they divided into SPIT-ites and non-SPITites; muddites and non-muddites; touchites and non-touchites. Denominationalism was born.
Do read the entire article. If you're interested:
It is possible to enrol as an Affiliate member of SPIT. This commits you to nothing more than the promotion of SPIT thinking, and Affiliate members will receive no recognition of their affiliation whatsoever.
Images from the Pharisaios website.
UPDATE: From Susan S. in the comments comes a link to the Cathedral Film Society's program:
The Cathedral Film Society meets every Friday at 7.30 p.m. at the Bijou Film Theatre, Wenchoster. The programme for the Easter takes “Resurrection” as its theme.
“Arsenic and Old Lace”, “Murder most foul”, “4.50 from Paddington”, Blade Runner” and “Jean de Florette/Manon des Sources”.
Members: £5.00, Non-members: £7.50
Entry includes a glass of Pimm’s, a cucumber sandwich and a tub of toffee popcorn.
Visitors may join the Society at any performance.
Canon Augustus Dewdrop MA
Canon Precentor
Friday, May 9, 2008
About The Weapons From Iran
From Tina Susman at the Los Angeles Times Blogs site:
There was something interesting missing from Maj. Gen. Kevin Bergner's introductory remarks to journalists at his regular news briefing in Baghdad on Wednesday: the word "Iran," or any form of it. It was especially striking as Bergner, the U.S. military spokesman here, announced the extraordinary list of weapons and munitions that have been uncovered in recent weeks since fighting erupted between Iraqi and U.S. security forces and Shiite militiamen.
....
A plan to show some alleged Iranian-supplied explosives to journalists last week in Karbala and then destroy them was canceled after the United States realized none of them was from Iran. A U.S. military spokesman attributed the confusion to a misunderstanding that emerged after an Iraqi Army general in Karbala erroneously reported the items were of Iranian origin.
When U.S. explosives experts went to investigate, they discovered they were not Iranian after all.
Whoops! Oh well. It's understandable. Mistakes are made. It's like the weapons of mass destruction that were not there. Who could have known?
There was something interesting missing from Maj. Gen. Kevin Bergner's introductory remarks to journalists at his regular news briefing in Baghdad on Wednesday: the word "Iran," or any form of it. It was especially striking as Bergner, the U.S. military spokesman here, announced the extraordinary list of weapons and munitions that have been uncovered in recent weeks since fighting erupted between Iraqi and U.S. security forces and Shiite militiamen.
....
A plan to show some alleged Iranian-supplied explosives to journalists last week in Karbala and then destroy them was canceled after the United States realized none of them was from Iran. A U.S. military spokesman attributed the confusion to a misunderstanding that emerged after an Iraqi Army general in Karbala erroneously reported the items were of Iranian origin.
When U.S. explosives experts went to investigate, they discovered they were not Iranian after all.
Whoops! Oh well. It's understandable. Mistakes are made. It's like the weapons of mass destruction that were not there. Who could have known?
Numbers In Army Stop-Loss Program Increase
From the Los Angeles Times:
WASHINGTON -- The number of soldiers forced to remain in the Army involuntarily under the military's controversial "stop-loss" program has risen sharply since the Pentagon extended combat tours last year, officials said Thursday.
....
The Army has resorted to involuntary extensions of soldiers' enlistment terms to prevent them from leaving immediately before a combat tour or in the middle of a deployment.
Army officials have argued that the policy is necessary to ensure that they are not forced to send inadequately trained soldiers and unprepared units into war.
However, many soldiers subjected to the stop-loss policy consider it a backdoor draft. Critics argue that once soldiers have completed the enlistment period they agreed to, they should be allowed to return home. The involuntary retention program is so unpopular that it helped inspire a recent movie called "Stop-Loss."
....
Between 2002 and 2007, 58,300 soldiers were given stop-loss orders, forcing them to remain in the service past the end of their enlistment periods.
A mere trifle of a number, surely.
I was going to write a leisurely post about the latest Jane Austen movie, but my blog and newspaper reading led me astray.
WASHINGTON -- The number of soldiers forced to remain in the Army involuntarily under the military's controversial "stop-loss" program has risen sharply since the Pentagon extended combat tours last year, officials said Thursday.
....
The Army has resorted to involuntary extensions of soldiers' enlistment terms to prevent them from leaving immediately before a combat tour or in the middle of a deployment.
Army officials have argued that the policy is necessary to ensure that they are not forced to send inadequately trained soldiers and unprepared units into war.
However, many soldiers subjected to the stop-loss policy consider it a backdoor draft. Critics argue that once soldiers have completed the enlistment period they agreed to, they should be allowed to return home. The involuntary retention program is so unpopular that it helped inspire a recent movie called "Stop-Loss."
....
Between 2002 and 2007, 58,300 soldiers were given stop-loss orders, forcing them to remain in the service past the end of their enlistment periods.
A mere trifle of a number, surely.
I was going to write a leisurely post about the latest Jane Austen movie, but my blog and newspaper reading led me astray.
The Cleansing Of Sadr City
From Juan Cole at Informed Comment:
The Iraqi military has warned civilians to leave the vast slum of Sadr City, apparently in preparation for a massive government assault on the Mahdi Army militia based there. Since slum dwellers notoriously lack the means to leave their slums, this call seems more likely to be for the sake of appearances than a realistic expectation. When thousands are massacred in the course of a military attack on a densely packed civilian area, the authorities will be able to say that they gave fair warning. Although the US demonizes the Mahdi Army, Many Sadr City residents view it as in part a charitable organization, and they also are often grateful for the security it provides. It is not as if the federal government is providing security.
Remember the Battle of Fallujah, which began in April 2003? Two thirds of the city was laid waste, resulting in thousands of refugees, who still have not returned to their homes today, because their homes are not there. God knows how many Iraqis were killed. I Googled, but I could find no definitive number. The goal was to flush out the insurgents from the city. Apparently, the plan to rid the slums of Sadr City of Mahdi Army militia is similar.
Apparently the fractious, RPG-wielding slum dwellers are getting in the way of the planned Green Zone golf course, so they have to be removed.
You know some British colonial administrators were still planning new cricket fields in India in 1946.
This is evil, pure evil! I hate this war!
The Iraqi military has warned civilians to leave the vast slum of Sadr City, apparently in preparation for a massive government assault on the Mahdi Army militia based there. Since slum dwellers notoriously lack the means to leave their slums, this call seems more likely to be for the sake of appearances than a realistic expectation. When thousands are massacred in the course of a military attack on a densely packed civilian area, the authorities will be able to say that they gave fair warning. Although the US demonizes the Mahdi Army, Many Sadr City residents view it as in part a charitable organization, and they also are often grateful for the security it provides. It is not as if the federal government is providing security.
Remember the Battle of Fallujah, which began in April 2003? Two thirds of the city was laid waste, resulting in thousands of refugees, who still have not returned to their homes today, because their homes are not there. God knows how many Iraqis were killed. I Googled, but I could find no definitive number. The goal was to flush out the insurgents from the city. Apparently, the plan to rid the slums of Sadr City of Mahdi Army militia is similar.
Apparently the fractious, RPG-wielding slum dwellers are getting in the way of the planned Green Zone golf course, so they have to be removed.
You know some British colonial administrators were still planning new cricket fields in India in 1946.
This is evil, pure evil! I hate this war!
Thursday, May 8, 2008
Feast Day Of Julian Norwich
"The Lady Juliana was born about 1342, and when she was thirty years old, she became gravely ill and was expected to die. Then, on the seventh day, the medical crisis passed, and she had a series of fifteen visions, or "showings," in which she was led to contemplate the Passion of Christ. These brought her great peace and joy. She became an anchoress, living in a small hut near to the church in Norwich, where she devoted the rest of her life to prayer and contemplation of the meaning of her visions. The results of her meditations she wrote in a book called Revelations of Divine Love, available in modern English in a Penguin Paperback edition. During her lifetime, she became known as a counselor, whose advice combined spiritual insight with common sense, and many persons came to speak with her. Since her death, many more have found help in her writings."
James Kiefer at the Lectionary.
Readings:
Psalm 27:5-11 or 103:1-4,13-18
Hebrews 10:19-24
John 4:23-26
Preface of the Epiphany
PRAYER
Lord God, who in your compassion granted to the Lady Julian many revelations of your nurturing and sustaining love: Move our hearts, like hers, to seek you above all things, for in giving us yourself you give us all; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen
From Julian's writings:
Faith is
nothing else but
a right understanding
of our being -
trusting
and allowing things to be;
A right understanding
that we are in God
and God
whom we do not see
is in us.
And this:
God feels great delight
to be our Father
and God feels great delight
to be our Mother
and God feels great delight
to be our true Spouse
and our soul the loved Wife.
Christ feels great delight
that He is our Brother
and Jesus feels great delight
that He is our Liberator.
These are five great joys
that God wants us to enjoy.
From Meditations With Julian of Norwich by Brendan Doyle.
UPDATE: The painting above is "Portrait of a Woman" by Rogier van der Weyden, c. 1430. It is very likely not Julian of Norwich, but it's a lovely painting. Since we have no portrait from life, why not? I've always been intrigued by the woman's headdress in the picture. Also, I have flipped it to the correct facing. A scholar I'm not, but I do try to tell the truth, when I know it. Thanks to a knowledgeable friend for the help in this.
Image from Wiki.
From Kirstin
I'm scared.
I’m writing this out now, before I sleep, so that I might not have to wake up still wrapped in these fears.
After my CT was clear, I was so relieved and elated that I stopped believing this cancer could hurt me. Sometime in the past few days, that fear crept back. My PET scan is Monday. Surgery is the 15th. I know that the worst that could happen, would be to be admitted for a neck dissection. I’d wake up every morning with a puffy half of my face, after that; it would recede in a few hours. After a few years, your body figures out what to do minus some lymph nodes. (Right now, we have no evidence of lymph involvement.)
I’m not afraid of a smaller left ear. Nor of scars on my neck, if it comes to that. I’m not physically afraid of the flu, knowing there’s an end date. I want to experience this—I also want to be able to put it in the past tense. If there is lymph involvement, I’ll never be able to fully trust my body again. I’ll never know that they got it all.
I’ve caught myself trying to feel my own lymph nodes. I don’t even know what I’m looking for. I could tell if something was strikingly swollen—but not just sleepily incubating. And health-wise, other than exhausted and anxious, I feel fine.
My body, and I, need so much love. I need to be gentle with it; to not attack it for being vulnerable to cancer cells. But I have this alien growing on my ear, that could start firing any time it wants to. I just want it off of me. My body didn’t choose this. Without my brain, it isn’t sentient. My body didn’t betray me. Biology, happened. Many, many people are sicker than I.
This isn’t the initial fear of not knowing—and of still being innocent enough to think and hope you’ll be okay. This is the heavy, twisty fear you could get sick on. It’s, “Oh, fuck. This isn’t just about now—I’ll have to be aware of it forever.” It could never come back. It could come back like it is now. It could come back and go metastatic. It could come back, when I don’t have health insurance.
How many people have I met, who have to ask those same questions? I’m caught up in this sleeplessness --> anxiety cycle. I know that many people are praying for me. I know God is present. I’ve lost track of where.
I’d slipped off the chapel prayer list, this morning—and I could still hear people all around me, whispering my name. That, was powerful. If you love me, if you’re praying for me, please tell me. Even if you know you did, yesterday. People tell me all the time that I'm doing well--I take strength from my community. Right now I don’t know how to pray for myself. I put up a brave front, when I need to, and sometimes I really do feel sure and strong. Other times, that’s about as real as the man behind the curtain.
Kirstin's blog is Barefoot and Laughing. Tell her that you are praying for her. Tell her that you care. I know what it's like to be too distraught or too sick to pray for myself or my loved ones. Jesus calls us, his followers, to lift each other up, to bear each other's burdens. That's a powerful ministry. I have experienced that power, the power of the prayers of many for me and mine, when I could not pray myself. It's real, and it's true.
Do not worry about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.
Finally, beloved, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is pleasing, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence and if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things.
Philippians 4:6-8
I’m writing this out now, before I sleep, so that I might not have to wake up still wrapped in these fears.
After my CT was clear, I was so relieved and elated that I stopped believing this cancer could hurt me. Sometime in the past few days, that fear crept back. My PET scan is Monday. Surgery is the 15th. I know that the worst that could happen, would be to be admitted for a neck dissection. I’d wake up every morning with a puffy half of my face, after that; it would recede in a few hours. After a few years, your body figures out what to do minus some lymph nodes. (Right now, we have no evidence of lymph involvement.)
I’m not afraid of a smaller left ear. Nor of scars on my neck, if it comes to that. I’m not physically afraid of the flu, knowing there’s an end date. I want to experience this—I also want to be able to put it in the past tense. If there is lymph involvement, I’ll never be able to fully trust my body again. I’ll never know that they got it all.
I’ve caught myself trying to feel my own lymph nodes. I don’t even know what I’m looking for. I could tell if something was strikingly swollen—but not just sleepily incubating. And health-wise, other than exhausted and anxious, I feel fine.
My body, and I, need so much love. I need to be gentle with it; to not attack it for being vulnerable to cancer cells. But I have this alien growing on my ear, that could start firing any time it wants to. I just want it off of me. My body didn’t choose this. Without my brain, it isn’t sentient. My body didn’t betray me. Biology, happened. Many, many people are sicker than I.
This isn’t the initial fear of not knowing—and of still being innocent enough to think and hope you’ll be okay. This is the heavy, twisty fear you could get sick on. It’s, “Oh, fuck. This isn’t just about now—I’ll have to be aware of it forever.” It could never come back. It could come back like it is now. It could come back and go metastatic. It could come back, when I don’t have health insurance.
How many people have I met, who have to ask those same questions? I’m caught up in this sleeplessness --> anxiety cycle. I know that many people are praying for me. I know God is present. I’ve lost track of where.
I’d slipped off the chapel prayer list, this morning—and I could still hear people all around me, whispering my name. That, was powerful. If you love me, if you’re praying for me, please tell me. Even if you know you did, yesterday. People tell me all the time that I'm doing well--I take strength from my community. Right now I don’t know how to pray for myself. I put up a brave front, when I need to, and sometimes I really do feel sure and strong. Other times, that’s about as real as the man behind the curtain.
Kirstin's blog is Barefoot and Laughing. Tell her that you are praying for her. Tell her that you care. I know what it's like to be too distraught or too sick to pray for myself or my loved ones. Jesus calls us, his followers, to lift each other up, to bear each other's burdens. That's a powerful ministry. I have experienced that power, the power of the prayers of many for me and mine, when I could not pray myself. It's real, and it's true.
Do not worry about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.
Finally, beloved, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is pleasing, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence and if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things.
Philippians 4:6-8
Happy Birthday To Paul!
Feliz Cumpleaños Pablito, el Byzigenous Buddhapalian!
Paul, may you have a blessed and joyful day!
O God, our times are in your hand: Look with favor, we pray, on your servant Paul as he begins another year. Grant that he may grow in wisdom and grace, and strengthen his trust in your goodness all the days of his life; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen. BCP
Wednesday, May 7, 2008
HUMOR FOR LEXOPHILES (LOVERS OF WORDS)
1. I wondered why the baseball was getting bigger. Then it hit me.
2. Police were called to a day care where a three-year-old was resisting a rest.
3. Did you hear about the guy whose whole left side was cut off? He's all right now.
4. The short fortune teller who escaped from prison was a small medium at large.
5. A thief who stole a calendar got twelve months
6. When the smog lifts in Los Angeles, U.C.L.A
7. The math professor went crazy with the blackboard. He did a number on it!
8. The professor discovered that her theory of earthquakes was on shaky ground.
9. The dead batteries were given out free of charge.
10. A dentist and a manicurist fought tooth and nail.
11. A bicycle can't stand alone; it is just two-tired.
12. A will is a dead giveaway.
13. A backward poet writes inverse.
14. With her marriage she got a new name and a dress.
15. A grenade fell onto a kitchen floor in France, resulting in linoleum blownapart.
16. He broke into song because he couldn't find the key.
17. A calendar's days are numbered.
18. A boiled egg is hard to beat.
19. If you jump off a Paris bridge, you are in Seine.
20. When she saw her first strands of gray hair, she thought she'd dye.
21. Bakers trade bread recipes on a knead to know basis.
Doug, I culled a few, because certain of my readers have short attention spans, and I knew they would not read them all. I chose those that made ME laugh. I await the groans from the hard to please folks.
2. Police were called to a day care where a three-year-old was resisting a rest.
3. Did you hear about the guy whose whole left side was cut off? He's all right now.
4. The short fortune teller who escaped from prison was a small medium at large.
5. A thief who stole a calendar got twelve months
6. When the smog lifts in Los Angeles, U.C.L.A
7. The math professor went crazy with the blackboard. He did a number on it!
8. The professor discovered that her theory of earthquakes was on shaky ground.
9. The dead batteries were given out free of charge.
10. A dentist and a manicurist fought tooth and nail.
11. A bicycle can't stand alone; it is just two-tired.
12. A will is a dead giveaway.
13. A backward poet writes inverse.
14. With her marriage she got a new name and a dress.
15. A grenade fell onto a kitchen floor in France, resulting in linoleum blownapart.
16. He broke into song because he couldn't find the key.
17. A calendar's days are numbered.
18. A boiled egg is hard to beat.
19. If you jump off a Paris bridge, you are in Seine.
20. When she saw her first strands of gray hair, she thought she'd dye.
21. Bakers trade bread recipes on a knead to know basis.
Doug, I culled a few, because certain of my readers have short attention spans, and I knew they would not read them all. I chose those that made ME laugh. I await the groans from the hard to please folks.
To Help The People Of Myanmar
Those of you, Episcopalians or otherwise, who may want to help the people of Myanmar, I direct you to the Episcopal Development and Relief Fund. Other denominations and organizations are also providing relief aid.
The death toll has now reached 22,000. That is simply an unimaginable number. The grief, misery, and devastation are catastrophic.
O gracious God, we will never understand the sorrows of the world, but by your grace we will not turn away from them. Renew and sustain in us the spirit of love that crosses miles. Cheer and encourage those who labor to help the injured, the homeless, the hungry and those in despair. Bless and soften the hearts of those who would take advantage of tragedy for their own profit, that they may come to know where true joy is to be found. Unite us in prayer with all those who look for help, and use us to come speedily to them with the things that they need. We ask these things in your own most holy Name. Amen.
Barbara Crafton, Episcopal priest
Prayer from Beliefnet.
UPDATE: CNN is now reporting 100,000 dead.
The death toll has now reached 22,000. That is simply an unimaginable number. The grief, misery, and devastation are catastrophic.
O gracious God, we will never understand the sorrows of the world, but by your grace we will not turn away from them. Renew and sustain in us the spirit of love that crosses miles. Cheer and encourage those who labor to help the injured, the homeless, the hungry and those in despair. Bless and soften the hearts of those who would take advantage of tragedy for their own profit, that they may come to know where true joy is to be found. Unite us in prayer with all those who look for help, and use us to come speedily to them with the things that they need. We ask these things in your own most holy Name. Amen.
Barbara Crafton, Episcopal priest
Prayer from Beliefnet.
UPDATE: CNN is now reporting 100,000 dead.
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