It’s been awfully noisy around here. The annual two weeks of backyard fireworks have started in LaBelle. I usually enjoy watching a good fireworks display, legal or not. But this year it’s a bit unnerving. There was another shooting this week, after all, and there’s been nothing else on the news about it except that it happened. They caught the person accused of murdering Tink, but neighborhood gossip says he didn’t act alone– that he was too addled to do something... Read more
A lot went on in the past week or two that I wanted to write about, but I couldn’t, because I couldn’t hear myself think due to the neighbor’s never-ending home repainting project. I’ll be getting to most of it this week if I can. First of all, I want to talk about the USCCB’s plan to excommunicate President Joe Biden, unless of course that’s not what they plan to do. At first it was boldly stated that they were... Read more
When Jesus had crossed again in the boat to the other side, a large crowd gathered around him, and he stayed close to the sea. One of the synagogue officials, named Jairus, came forward. Seeing him he fell at his feet and pleaded earnestly with him, saying, “My daughter is at the point of death. Please, come lay your hands on her that she may get well and live.” He went off with him, and a large crowd followed him... Read more
I was thinking about Rosie and Michael on Sunday, and that led me to thinking about Saint Joseph. One evening, when Rosie was three and a half and being particularly noisy, Michael snapped at her. And then he immediately calmed down and said, “I do owe you an apology, Rose. I lost my temper and yelled at you. I’m sorry.” Rosie instantly held out a small hand for a handshake. “Dat’s okay. No hard feelings.” This memory popped into... Read more
I didn’t know Tink. I’d seen him lying on a mattress on the porch of a derelict building on the corner of Pennsylvania Avenue and Carnegie Street, a few blocks from the house we rent, many times. The bus goes right by there, so sometimes I’d see him twice a day, lying in the shade, reminding me of the Gospel story of the man who had been lying at the pool of Bethesda for thirty-eight years. I’d spoken with... Read more
The menacing neighbor was quiet today. It’s Saturday, so the workmen didn’t come. And she seems to have tired herself out. This is the way her madness cycles: she builds herself up, angrier and more paranoid, spending more and more time outdoors ranting at anyone who will listen, vandalizing our yard. And then she collapses and won’t even get out of her bath robe for a week. I only know she’s alive because I hear the dog’s chain as she... Read more
Home isn’t a pleasant place this summer. The menacing neighbor has workmen over every day, loudly clanking scaffolding and beautifying her house from nine until five. She insists on being outside during every daylight hour, screaming to the workmen and the neighbors about how evil we are, calling the police on us for the crime of mowing our lawn or going in the backyard. Her new fixation is that she’s angry with me for faithfully reporting to the... Read more
The menacing neighbor‘s house is starting to look very nice. It’s slate blue with white trim now; the workmen finished the front today. I think slate blue with white trim is one of the prettiest combinations for siding. I also like lemonade yellow with white trim, white with deep green trim, schoolhouse red with slate trim. Sometimes I take a handful of those paint sample squares from the hardware store just to admire them and daydream about colors. When... Read more
We are nearing the two-year anniversary of my smackdown with Father Kevin. And it’s just my luck that I have come across another funny Priest Reacting Inappropriately to the Female Shoulder story on social media! Thanks to my friend Juana for posting this story to Twitter and giving me permission to reprint it! –M. P. Today on THE PARISH I just told Fr Boss this absolutely true story from my childhood and he was pretty solidly like “wtf” so... Read more
I wish I had a brave person to show you, but I don’t. There’s no one here but me. I wish I had a happy story to tell you, but I don’t. I only have mine. I have not been very well this spring and early summer. Trauma is a real illness. It’s not all in your head. Being traumatized actually physically injures the nervous system and changes the brain’s chemistry; these injuries are called Post Traumatic Stress Disorder... Read more
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