I don’t usually comment on “The Transformed Wife,” whose real name is Lori Alexander. I try not to comment because I am still half convinced that she’s going to reveal herself to be a troll at any moment. Her remarks on marriage and being a woman are so laughably horrible that it seems like low-hanging fruit. She is a caricature of a vicious stereotype. It doesn’t really seem fair to break down why she is wrong, most of the time.... Read more
I have been depressed lately. That’s another of the 200 symptoms of fibromyalgia, and not a very common one for me. I usually get anxious rather than depressed. That, combined with the bad joint pain, has left me feeling speechless for a couple of weeks. Usually, words flow easily and I don’t get writer’s block. But this February has been difficult. When my fingers feel A-okay for typing, my mind won’t come up with ideas. And when my mind finally... Read more
I apologize once again for the radio static this month. The fibro had been making it hurt my wrists to type. It doesn’t necessarily hurt to get off a few bon mots on Twitter, so that’s what I’ve been doing. On Twitter, I met a gentleman who said he once overheard a woman explaining that “There are twenty-two factions in the Catholic Church, and right now the Augustinians are the strongest faction.” He said he’d been puzzling over what she... Read more
Today is Saint Valentine’s Day, and I suppose you want me to write about love– or, perhaps, bees. I’ve been reminded that Saint Valentine is one of the patron saints of beekeepers, as well as of love. I like bees. Bees are easy to talk about. They live in highly regimented societies where each knows exactly what is expected of her and does it wholeheartedly until they day she dies. The queen is extra-large, and her job is to lay... Read more
I couldn’t decided whether to post a Bernie Sanders “I am once again asking for your financial support” silly meme, or an equally silly valentine’s day meme, but I’m not in a very silly mood just now so I went with the world’s most awkward flower, the gerbera daisy. As I say incessantly at Steel Magnificat, boosting the tip jar is my most embarrassing part of my job. I am chronically ill and never know when I’ll be homebound for... Read more
For weeks, I have watched public Catholics freak out about whether the Pope was going to allow more married men to be ordained priests. This was in response to the Amazon Synod and what Pope Francis might do about the question of a shortage of priests in the Amazon region of South America. Everybody had a strong opinion on this but me. I don’t know how to adequately signal in writing that I’m not being tongue and cheek about this: I... Read more
In February, when the whole world appears dead, I think about the place where everything is alive. I know I’ve written about this before, but bear with me. There’s so much more to tell. I used to go to family reunions every year, down in the heart of West Virginia where my ancestors came from. Right now I live up in the chimney of Northern Appalachia, where it crashes into the Rust Belt. I can’t think of two places... Read more
We’re learning about ancient history in homeschooling this year. We don’t have a textbook; I just check books out of the library, and read them to Rosie, and then we watch documentaries. I had thought to make this school year just a standard survey course of “World History,” but Rosie was so fascinated with the pictures of the ancient history books that I doubt we’ll get farther than than the foundation of Rome before summer starts and the pool... Read more
Sorry for the radio silence the past few days, folks. I’ve mentioned February is awful. I’ve been too sick to write for a couple of days. Seems like there’s a lot to talk about, and most of it I don’t want to talk about. I don’t want to talk about the Super Bowl because I don’t like football– but I also don’t like people who think they’re special for not liking football. I just don’t happen to care for it,... Read more
I know I shouldn’t pay attention to crabby priests on Twitter. They are a dime a dozen. But this evening, a crabby priest on Twitter happened to make a mean crack about casual clothing that particularly irked me. “Gentlemen,” said the priest, “If you are wearing sweat pants in public and not actively engaged in some athletic endeavor, you need to ask yourself why you have given up on life.” I am not a gentleman, but I know a... Read more
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