"FLURRY" - A POEM

                 Flurry

Small flakes
barely worthy of the polysyllabic
description: precipitation,
brief interruption
of dull, unremarkable, overcast day,
undecided wisps, erratic flight
set light
crystals dancing as if each to its’ own tune
without masterful direction,
dire orchestration
of epic arctic gale memorable, named.
Just a flurry to you, my love?
Flash of
anticipation, interest, slight worry
that outburst might be harbinger,
first stir,
of landscape changing emotional event
unwanted beyond storied thrills
passion spills
to spoil the comfort of an orderly life,
the fall exciting, landing rough.
Not enough,
scant dusting brushed away without consequence,
no weather alert set to scroll,
the toll
all mine in the storm that changes nothing real,
yet adds to drifts of longing built
in flurries.

(Marthe G. Walsh)

Spring has arrived here in south Louisiana.  Azaleas are coming into bloom but are not yet in full bloom.  I'll post pictures in a few days.  Thanks to Marthe for the poem that describes the scene of what is hoped by many to be the last gasp of a hard winter in northern climes.

THE EYE

Stained glass in doctor's office

Rejoice always, pray without ceasing, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you. (1 Thess. 5:16-18)

Yesterday, the ophthalmologist reported that my macular degeneration has not progressed. Thus far, my vision is not affected, and I am immensely grateful.

Since St Paul says I must rejoice always and give thanks in all circumstances, I must also be thankful that I missed the exit off I-10 in New Orleans because it looked different because of road construction. I took the next exit and then the service road that I hope would be the same service road where my doctor's office was located. When I came to the end of the road at Clearview, I could see the service road I wanted just across the six lanes of traffic. In fact, I could see the very building that housed the office, but there was no direct way to get there from where I was. So I took the roundabout way, not the shortest route, as I found out later, and I finally arrived in the parking lot, only to find that the slots were all full. By then, I was late for my appointment, but, most important, I had to use the ladies facilities urgently. (I know, TMI!) In desperation, I parked in a slot for the handicapped and ran to the ladies on the ground floor of the building. Desperate situations call for desperate measures.

Afterward, I went back to the lot to look for an empty parking spot to move my car from the handicapped slot. A woman was just backing out, so I rushed to my car and prayed that no one would take the place before I got there, and my prayers were answered.

Also, I must rejoice that after I left the doctor's office, when I paid another visit to the ladies I scraped my arm on the sharp edge of the doorway and began to bleed copiously. The injury was only a surface wound, but my aged skin is like tissue paper and tears and bruises easily. After I staunched the flow, I applied a band-aid from the supply I always carry with me, and it was home again, home again, jiggety-jig.

POEM FOR ST PATRICK'S DAY - MARTHE G. WALSH

                                      Just In Case

There’s a leprechaun in my tea – seriously,
a pale green porcelain figurine tucked between
the bags of shredded leaves, no cane on which to lean,
but clearly winking, conspiratorially.

Surprised, read the side of the box – the purveyors
of serenity by the cup appear to think
offering “fine collectibles” will make me drink
ever more of their product, reward conveyors
of mulch as beverage with a brand loyalty
driven by some obsessive need to have all twelve
characters in the series, but they troll and delve
into the psyche at their own risk, pointlessly.

This is no secret decoder ring, no cartoon
hero-movie-marketing-tie-in appealing
to six-year-old susceptible to the squealing
delight of laugh track peers, must-have-now-coming-soon
episode of consumption programming disguised
as entertainment, fantasy wish fulfillment
key to an economy built on discontent,
no precious-memory-by-kitsch niche plan franchised.

The little green men may, might, indeed, be coming
for me, but not through my tea or the Lucky Charms
that would only have set off sugar shock alarms
had they been allowed in deprived youth, and numbing
foiled entirely by sensible nutrition
considerations, thrift, parental volition
dismissing all things magical, mythical, missed
as useless to ponder as the frog left un-kissed.

Not prone to hoard, crave or worship acquisition,
put the elf on the shelf, nod to superstition.

(Marthe G. Walsh)

SPLENDID ORGAN CONCERT BY DR. CAROL BRITT AT ST JOHN'S EPISCOPAL CHURCH

Thanks in part to DST, I didn't get myself together in time to go to church this past Sunday, but, by a little before 3 PM (DST), I was together enough to attend a splendid organ concert by Dr Carol Britt at St John's Episcopal Church in Thibodaux. The concert was a celebration of the return of the organ to St John's after its improvement and expansion, which included an old (but new to us) console, which fits perfectly with the architectural and decorative style of the church building. Carol played beautifully. I closed my eyes to listen because I tend to get distracted by things in my field of vision - Oh look! A shiny thing! - and I wanted to listen deeply to her music.

Click on the images for a larger view.

CRANE FLIES

Crane flies
Are a-flying
And a-dying
And a-lying
All around the house

Image from Island Creek Elementary School.

BOBBY JINDAL - STILL NOT RUNNING FOR PRESIDENT

Hours before heading to New Hampshire, Gov. Bobby Jindal announced Thursday that he is launching a federal political action committee.

Jindal’s press office ignored requests to speak to the governor about the creation of Stand Up to Washington. However, in an 18-minute interview with the national website Politico, Jindal said the PAC will focus on helping conservative candidates run for Congress.

The new PAC will only be used to support Republican candidates for governor and Congress and make friends and influence people in the event that Bobby, at sometime in the future, announces that he is running for president, which, despite his denials, he has actually been doing since the day he was elected governor of Louisiana.

Jindal rarely meets with local reporters, because they know too much, which is why Politico has the big "scoop".

One of Louisiana's own, the wise Stephanie Grace, writes about Jindal's non-announcement announcement in The Advocate.

Monday was particularly jam-packed. He started the day by publishing an op-ed in the National Review harshly critiquing Obama’s handling of the Crimea crisis. He ended with a taped interview with CNBC’s Jim Cramer on energy policy.

In between, he somehow found a few minutes to swing by the State Capitol, open the annual legislative session and outline the least ambitious agenda of his two terms.
....

Jindal may be going big nationally, but his days of grand ambition for Louisiana feel like a distant memory. Almost as distant as his old refrain that he has the job he wants.

LONG WHINE - PART 1

Wednesday was not one of my better days.  I almost never go shopping because I do most of my purchasing online now, but, on Wednesday, it was time for Grandpère and me to make a trip to the nearby larger town.  First we went to cancel the internet service for our laptop at the phone store, because I was not successful either by phone or online in cancelling the service.  We learned to our dismay that our contract did not run out till September, so we'll be charged $90 to cancel. Still, even with the cost of cancellation and the cost of a router at $100, we'll save money in the long run, plus we'll have better service through our cable provider.

Our next stop was the electronics store to buy a flat screen TV for me.  Grandpère recently purchased a new flat screen, and, after several months of comparing the quality of the displays, I decided to ditch the old clunky set for a flat screen.  (No, we mostly do not watch TV together.)  The prices of flat screens are surprisingly low, so why not?  The purchase went without a hitch. Thank goodness.

On to lunch at a restaurant that offers an Italian buffet, with a discount for seniors, which Grandpère welcomed after all the money we had already spent that day  After lunch, we went to the large chain bookstore nearby. I have a discount card for the chain, and I stayed in Grandpère's truck to look for the card. He locked the truck, and went on into the store. When I tried to get out, I could not. The doors were locked and I couldn't open them.  I tried and tried with no luck, so there I was trapped in the truck.  I thought to myself "This is not possible.  Suppose the truck catches on fire."  I thought Grandpère would miss me and come to look for me, but he didn't.  He thought I was somewhere in the big store.

We both have cell phones, but Grandpère doesn't carry his with him, and, even when he does, he only turns it on when he wants to call someone.  If he'd carry his phone and turn it on, life would be so much less stressful for both of us in so many ways.

What to do?  I looked up the phone number of the bookstore and called and told the person who answered of my plight and gave her Grandpère's description and asked her to look for him and tell him to come let me out.  I waited and waited, and Grandpère never came, so I called back.  The woman said she had called for him, but no one came, and she was the only person working in that very large bookstore, and she could not leave the checkout counter to look for him. I sat for maybe half an hour, and finally a man parked nearby, and I waved to him and began to shout through the locked windows to ask if he was going into the store. He said yes, so I shouted Grandpère's description and asked him if he saw him to tell him to come unlock the truck. He found him, and I was rescued.  I wasn't in any mood to look at books, so we checked out Grandpère's book with my discount card, which caused all the trouble, and left.

The next stop (If we're going to shop, we try to do it all in one day.) was a home decorating store to buy curly maple branches to put in two vases in the living room.  Another easy success, and the branches have a nice minimalist look about them that I think is quite attractive, though I doubt everyone will agree.

When Grandpère told my son about my getting locked in the truck, he said it was impossible to be locked in a vehicle.  He came to our house later to check out the situation, and he was right.  There is a lock inside the truck that works without the key.  The problem was that neither Grandpère nor I knew where the lock was.  Now we know.

End of shopping but not end of bad day and whine.  More whine to come!

LIGHT OF THE WORLD

Light of the World
(Phos hilaron)

Light of the world in grace and beauty,
Mirror of God’s eternal face,
Transparent flame of love’s free duty,
You bring salvation to our race.
Now, as we see the lights of evening,
We raise our voice in hymns of praise;
Worthy are you of endless blessing,
Sun of our night, lamp of our days.

ARCHBISHOP ÓSCAR ROMERO - A SAINT FOR TODAY AND ANY DAY

A wonderful icon of Archbishop Óscar Romero of San Salvador, written by Tobias Haller, along with San Romero's wise words:

A Future Not Our Own

It helps now and then to step back and take a long view.
The Kingdom is not only beyond our efforts,
it is beyond our vision.

We accomplish in our lifetime only a fraction
of the magnificent enterprise that is God's work.
Nothing we do is complete, which is another way of
saying that the kingdom always lies beyond us.
No statement says all that could be said.
No prayer fully expresses our faith. No confession
brings perfection, no pastoral visit brings wholeness.
No program accomplishes the Church's mission.
No set of goals and objectives include everything.

This is what we are about. We plant the seeds that one
day will grow. We water the seeds already planted
knowing that they hold future promise.
We lay foundations that will need further development.
We provide yeast that produces effects
far beyond our capabilities.

We cannot do everything, and there is a sense of
liberation in realizing this.
This enables us to do something, and to do it very well.
It may be incomplete, but it is a beginning,
a step along the way, an opportunity for the Lord's grace to enter and do the rest.
We may never see the end results, but that is the
difference between the master builder and the worker.

We are workers, not master builders, ministers, not
messiahs. We are prophets of a future not our own.

From Journey with Jesus.

ASH WEDNESDAY

Collect of the Day: Ash Wednesday

Almighty and everlasting God, you hate nothing you have made and forgive the sins of all who are penitent: Create and make in us new and contrite hearts, that we, worthily lamenting our sins and acknowledging our wretchedness, may obtain of you, the God of all mercy, perfect remission and forgiveness; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen. (Book of Common Prayer)

If the lost word is lost, if the spent word is spent
If the unheard, unspoken
Word is unspoken, unheard;
Still is the unspoken word, the Word unheard,
The Word without a word, the Word within
The world and for the world;
And the light shone in darkness and
Against the Word the unstilled world still whirled
About the centre of the silent Word.

O my people, what have I done unto thee.

Where shall the word be found, where will the word
Resound? Not here, there is not enough silence
Not on the sea or on the islands, not
On the mainland, in the desert or the rain land,
For those who walk in darkness
Both in the day time and in the night time
The right time and the right place are not here
No place of grace for those who avoid the face
No time to rejoice for those who walk among noise and deny the voice
...

Blessed sister, holy mother, spirit of the fountain, spirit of the garden,
Suffer us not to mock ourselves with falsehood
Teach us to care and not to care
Teach us to sit still
Even among these rocks,
Our peace in His will
And even among these rocks
Sister, mother
And spirit of the river, spirit of the sea,
Suffer me not to be separated

And let my cry come unto Thee.

(Excerpt from T S Eliot's "Ash Wednesday")

Go on.  Read it all.

Perhaps belaboring the obvious, but there it is.