“There’s no place like home!” It really didn’t hit me until after my mom died how much responsibility a woman is under to be the thermostat of the home environment. “If Momma ain’t happy, ain’t nobody happy,” couldn’t be more true. So the fact that while I love the idea being a homemaker, I basically suck at the actual practice of it. Oh, I can vacuum and dust like I trained at Downton Abbey, but I’m not good at decorating,... Read more
“Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens…” Those were certainly Maria’s favorites, and while I’m not saying they’re not adorable, I’ve got some other things in mind. This week I’m linking up with a delightful blog called Moxie Wife for a little doo-dad she calls “Five Favorites.” And away we go, though not necessarily in order of favoritism! 1. Antique holy cards. I can’t get enough of them, and really, how can that be a sin? The site for this... Read more
Brine shrimp. Laboratory picture (Photo credit: Wikipedia) I noticed it this morning when I was taking a shower. Yeah, that’s pretty ordinary, taking a shower. Unless you have no running water. Ordinary is all a matter of perspective. What you think is ordinary is hardly what’s ordinary to someone else. My ordinary isn’t your ordinary. When my daughter was eight or nine we got Sea Monkeys. You know, the all-too-ordinary brine shrimp, packaged to look like the royalty of the... Read more
My mom. Saint Harriet the Pious. Yup. Lots of moms teach their daughters many things. How to paint your nails. How to make potato salad. How to get-eight-and-a-half-million-things-done-while-a-baby-is-napping. You know the stuff… My mom taught me those things, and one more. She taught me how to be Catholic. Catholicism is filled with many things. It’s a rich tradition that sometimes looks like the underside of a very complicated needlepoint cushion. There’s a lot of messy threads there, and you’re not... Read more
I’m not feeling it. Beloved is for the new bride, honeymoon-rumpled and smiling. Beloved is for the newly born, powder-fresh and still a little wet behind the ears. Beloved is even a slightly strange book by Toni Morrison. But it’s not me. I’m not feeling it. I’m bewitched, bothered and bewildered, but not beloved. I’ve been besotted. I’m currently bespectacled. I’m even a little bedraggled, since I just finished salting the winter-time sidewalks. But I’m not beloved. I’m sometimes benighted... Read more
I really wasn’t trying to look at his butt. It was hard not to, though, since his pants were practically down to his knees. This is part of living in a large metro area. There’s a lot of diversity, and, for the most part, I really enjoy it. Among other things, some of what’s covered by the diversity umbrella is apparel and personal style choices. Afros to Pentecostal Poufs, ballet flats to Converse, split tongues and pierced ears, it’s all... Read more
Nothing. That’s what it is. Nothing. There’s no leaves, no flowers. Just the bare limbs outlining the sky like scribbles on a blank page, left there from when a toddler got ahold of the pen. I feel like I have nothing to offer. There is nothing left in me. There’s an old Zen story about how a student went to ask about meditation, and while in consultation, the teacher began to pour tea in some waiting cups. The student went... Read more
Bad day. No amount of bad days ever prepares me for the next one. At Paul’s advice, I tried calling the doctor, yet again. No luck. Three calls later, I’d gotten nowhere but being put on hold for several minutes, and transferred to nowhere twice. The temptation here is to think this is a conspiracy. “If we keep ignoring her, maybe she’ll kill herself! Then we can stop paying those damn Social Security payments!” At least, I hope it’s only... Read more
Compared to the time I wet my pants in second grade, it was nothing. (Yeah, we’ll talk about that another time. Maybe.) It was the first day of first grade, in my new parochial school, Saint John the Baptist. My class had the lay teacher, Ms. Ditton. (There was a mix by then of both lay teachers and sisters.) She was one of the nicest teachers on the planet. (I’ve been blessed in that regard. I can’t remember really having... Read more
Let’s just put the cards on the table right at the beginning and play this hand open, okay? I’m a Christian, and I’m a Catholic (although there’s plenty of people who think that never the twain shall meet, they’re obviously wrong). So, I’ll probably get all up in your face about Jesus, or Mass, or Mary at some point, which you may or may not like. And because of that, you may or may not like me. That’s the scary... Read more
After the Ecstasy, the Laundry...
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