LONG WHINE - PART 2

After my adventure-filled day shopping as told in Long Whine - Part 1, we headed home, where I hoped to find peace for the rest of the day.  Alas, it was not to be.

The wireless on my router worked well to connect to the internet on my laptop when I was still served by my previous provider, but, after it was disconnected, I downloaded the router CD onto the laptop, and I was not able to access the internet.  What now?  I downloaded the CD again and still no connection.

In desperation, I called my son and told him what I'd done and asked what could have gone wrong.  He was puzzled and said the connection should have worked.  After thinking a bit, he asked me if the antenna button was turned on.  I did not know there was such a thing as an antenna button on the laptop, and I had no idea where it was.  He said I should look on the front of the laptop.  At first, I saw only a red light, but, when I looked closer, there was a small switch.  When I slid the switch to the right, the red light changed to blue, and I was able to connect.  What I've written sounds simpler and less time-consuming than the reality, which dragged on for a couple of stress-and-frustration-laden hours. 

In between failure and success with the computer, I took a break to arrange the curly willow branches I mentioned in my earlier post.  The branches were too tall for the vases and needed to be clipped.  Out came the wire cutters to cut a number of branches.  As some were too thick for the wire cutters, I had to saw them with a knife.  Nothing is ever as simple as expected, but, in the end, I was pleased with the minimalist effect.

Finally, I settled down with a glass of wine to test the computer connection, all the while fearing that, as luck would have it that day, I'd be thrown offline at any moment.  To my great relief the connection held.  Around 11:15 PM, I decided it was bedtime, so I shut down the computer, and, when I reached to plug in the laptop to charge the battery, I knocked over my half-full glass of red wine on the carpet.  Oy!  Not bedtime yet after all!

After blotting up all possible liquid with paper towels, I continued the clean-up with my ever-handy bottle of Resolve Carpet Cleaner, with not much hope that it would do the tough job of removing the red wine stain.  After much rubbing and scrubbing, I called it a night and finally went to bed.

The next morning, when I examined the area I could still see where the wine had spilled, so I rubbed and scrubbed again.  Later in the day, when the area had dried, I could not see stain marks, so I moved the chair and the magazine rack back into place.  I haven't looked closely again, because there's nothing more I can do if there are remnants of stain, except call in the professionals.
 
Grandpère's evening was no better.  When he drove to his meeting down the bayou, he went to the wrong house and got stuck in the mud in the driveway.  The owner of the house was kind enough to tow him out, but he was most embarrassed.

End of whine.  I don't know if  I feel better now that I've written about my woes, but it is done.

FEAST OF THE ANNUNCIATION

"The Virgin of the Annunciation" by Fra Angelico

O Blessed One

Mother of God, O holy one,
Inside your body, the Word made flesh,
As an infant suckled at your breast.
The God-child, cared for gently, lovingly,
Grew in wisdom and in grace.

Mother of God, what did you know?
Were you sad? Were you fearful?
Midst the joy of family life,
Did you feel a piercing in your heart?
O blessed Mary, pray for us, sinners all.

June Butler (7/17/07)

Collect of the Day: The Annunciation of Our Lord

Pour your grace into our hearts, O Lord, that we who have known the incarnation of your Son Jesus Christ, announced by an angel to the Virgin Mary, may by his cross and passion be brought to the glory of his resurrection; who lives and reigns with you, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen.

(Book of Common Prayer)

TRICKSTERS AND DECEIVERS

"Americans for Prosperity", the well-funded conservative group that has been attacking Democrats in battleground states over the health care reform law, put out TV ads Monday against Sens. Mary Landrieu (D-LA) and Mark Udall (D-CO).

"But what's notable about the ads is what they aren't: A personalized story of someone who's been negatively affected by Obamacare, the kind of verifiable set of facts that can be checked -- and rebutted, as happened with a recent AFP ad that led to significant backlash from the fact-checking community."

Watch the ad. I've seen it more times than I can count. The new tactic for anti-Democratic campaign ads by AFP (think Koch brothers) is to include no facts that can be checked. When I saw the video for the first time, I was caught off guard until the very end, when the woman instructs viewers to call Sen. Mary Landrieu's office to tell her about the horrors of Obamacare. My counter-suggestion to people in Louisiana is to call Landrieu's office and tell her you approve of Obamacare as a stopgap until we adopt a single-payer health plan for the entire country.

The amount of money being spent by the Koch brothers and their ilk is incredible this early in the election game. I hope viewers will become bored and weary of the ads and tune out.

ANNIVERSARY OF THE ASSASSINATION OF ÓSCAR ROMERO

Archbishop Oscar Romero - Tobias Haller

Peace is not the product of terror or fear. Peace is not the silence of cemeteries. Peace is not the silent result of violent repression. Peace is the generous, tranquil contribution of all to the good of all. Peace is dynamism. Peace is generosity. It is right and it is a duty.
(Óscar Romero, Archbishop of San Salvador, El Salvador, January 7, 1978)

Romero was shot to death on March 24, 1980 while celebrating holy Mass at a small chapel near his cathedral, the day after he gave a sermon in which he called for soldiers as Christians to obey God's higher order and to stop carrying out the government's repression and violations of basic human rights. According to an audio-recording of the Mass, he was shot moments after the homily, which he had concluded with an improvised pre-Eucharistic prayer thanking God (the homily in the Roman Catholic Rite more or less signifies the end of the Liturgy of the Word and the beginning of the Liturgy of the Eucharist or Mass of the Faithful). It is believed that his assassins were members of Salvadoran death squads, including two graduates of the U.S.-run School of the Americas. This view was supported in 1993 by an official U.N. report, which identified the man who ordered the killing as Major Roberto D'Aubuisson, who later founded the Nationalist Republican Alliance (ARENA), a political party which came to power in 1989 and still rules today. Rafael Alvaro Saravia, Roberto D'Aubuisson's driver, was found liable in connection with the murder by a U.S. court in 2004.

Collect of Oscar Romero and the Martyrs of El Salvador, Archbishop of San Salvador, 1980

Almighty God, you called your servant Oscar Romero to be a voice for the voiceless poor, and to give his life as a seed of freedom and a sign of hope: Grant that, inspired by his sacrifice and the example of the martyrs of El Salvador, we may without fear or favor witness to your Word who abides, your Word who is Life, even Jesus Christ our Lord, to whom, with you and the Holy Spirit, be praise and glory now and for ever. Amen.

Tobias Haller blogs at In a Godward Direction.

UPDATE: A Facebook friend sent me the link to a fine poem, Say "No" to Peace, that compliments San Romero words on peace.  The first verse is below; here's the link to the entire poem.

Say "no" to peace if what they mean by peace is
  the quiet misery of hunger,
    the frozen stillness of fear,
      the silence of broken spirits,
        the unborn hopes of the oppressed.

"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.