Low Sunday
H made his delicious waffles for breakfast. What a wonderful day to start the day!
H did his Zoom thing, then wondered why we didn't. Instead, we read the missal and the Mass readings and prayed the rosary.
How I wish we could go to Mass! Or stop in a church and pray in the presence of the Blessed Sacrament. Jesus is my best friend.
I enjoyed reading the magazine this morning, it was very informative, not only about the saint but also about the time and place he lived in. I had a thought that instead of assigning M history and geography texts, I could have him read From the HouseTops.
Went out for a solo walk in the early afternoon. With my dress and rubber boots, I felt like a little girl splashing through puddles!
Our yard is full of "treasures." My older sons weren't very interested, but M is a car fanatic. He's ready to fix up all the old junkers, whether snogo, airplane or seized up Scout. This baby has been parked for 24 years.
The Christmas cactus I brought home from work likes our windowsill. It also bloomed at school in November. I love the vivid pink of the blossoms. The Hummel was my mother's. My siblings sent it to me after the last clean out. It was a gag - I had to glue the heads back on. Just a little reminder.
Zoomed with them all today for about an hour. Every was fine. Except my youngest brother, who had a look like my mother. It was unnerving because I couldn't pinpoint why until about halfway through when I realized that he looks ill. He admitted that he didn't feel well and was depressed. He's had a tough go of it thanks to The Virus. He's laid off and on his own. Temporary setbacks, but I am now worried about him. He is not the melancholic type. At all.
I was planning to cook a boiled dinner: potatoes, carrots, onion, kielbasi... Alas, what I dug out the chest freezer was not kielbasi! It's the guy's name! How disappointing!
Instead I sauteed onion, leeks, garlic, sun choke (one tiny one, let's see if it lives up to its legend), fresh parsley, a sweet potato, and cabbage along with the sausage. And I made blinis with leftover mashed potatoes. Tasty. And the sausage was good, just not the flavor I'd been anticipating.
One last thought:
"We are the weavers of our lives. God has decreed the manner of our weaving. He has offered us the threads. We may choose whatever suits our purpose, whatever we desire. But our choice should follow a careful selection of the threads, lest our strands, too hastily chosen, prove weak, lose color and snap in the weaving. ... In our early youth we were given time to select seriously our state of life - the right wheel upon which to spin the flax which God plants in the garden of the world. ... Many spend their lives in unsuccessful attempts to spin the flax of God on a wheel they can never use. Many have woven a life from a pattern all their own. ... What have they to show for their labors? Loose weaving, gaudy blotches of color, misplaced as were their lives. Many, too, who follow Christ's pattern allowed their fingers to slip and made of their tapestry mere patchwork. ... We cannot perceive the value of our handicraft until the piece has been completed. We must continue our labor, assembling the disjoined threads, sorting them, selecting and adding colors, according to the directions of the Master Weaver, into a lasting ornament for the walls of eternity. May our lives be busied with the affairs of Christ, as busy as the noisy shuttles of the world as they weave that which the moth will consume."
Alas, that is not how my morning began. At 7am a pesky four-footed friend began whining outside my bedroom door. So I put him outside on the run, unfortunately locking myself out at the same time. In my shortie pjs. In the rain. I rang the doorbell. Nothing. Two minutes later, I rang again. The dog that usually barks at the slightest noise shuffled down to the door, silently glanced my way, then retreated down the hall. So I rang the door again. And again. Until finally Mr. H himself came to the door.
I'd been planning to flop back into bed after letting the dog out, but by now I was wide awake. So I made some coffee and curled up on the sofa and read about St. Peter Claver in From the HouseTops magazine.
How I wish we could go to Mass! Or stop in a church and pray in the presence of the Blessed Sacrament. Jesus is my best friend.
I enjoyed reading the magazine this morning, it was very informative, not only about the saint but also about the time and place he lived in. I had a thought that instead of assigning M history and geography texts, I could have him read From the HouseTops.
Went out for a solo walk in the early afternoon. With my dress and rubber boots, I felt like a little girl splashing through puddles!
The Christmas cactus I brought home from work likes our windowsill. It also bloomed at school in November. I love the vivid pink of the blossoms. The Hummel was my mother's. My siblings sent it to me after the last clean out. It was a gag - I had to glue the heads back on. Just a little reminder.
Zoomed with them all today for about an hour. Every was fine. Except my youngest brother, who had a look like my mother. It was unnerving because I couldn't pinpoint why until about halfway through when I realized that he looks ill. He admitted that he didn't feel well and was depressed. He's had a tough go of it thanks to The Virus. He's laid off and on his own. Temporary setbacks, but I am now worried about him. He is not the melancholic type. At all.
Day 22 wearing The Dress
Girls just want to have fun!
I was heading out for a walk with C and waylaid M who was having way too much fun on this motorized vehicle. Still lots of snow on the ground in the yard.
I was planning to cook a boiled dinner: potatoes, carrots, onion, kielbasi... Alas, what I dug out the chest freezer was not kielbasi! It's the guy's name! How disappointing!
Instead I sauteed onion, leeks, garlic, sun choke (one tiny one, let's see if it lives up to its legend), fresh parsley, a sweet potato, and cabbage along with the sausage. And I made blinis with leftover mashed potatoes. Tasty. And the sausage was good, just not the flavor I'd been anticipating.
One last thought:
"We are the weavers of our lives. God has decreed the manner of our weaving. He has offered us the threads. We may choose whatever suits our purpose, whatever we desire. But our choice should follow a careful selection of the threads, lest our strands, too hastily chosen, prove weak, lose color and snap in the weaving. ... In our early youth we were given time to select seriously our state of life - the right wheel upon which to spin the flax which God plants in the garden of the world. ... Many spend their lives in unsuccessful attempts to spin the flax of God on a wheel they can never use. Many have woven a life from a pattern all their own. ... What have they to show for their labors? Loose weaving, gaudy blotches of color, misplaced as were their lives. Many, too, who follow Christ's pattern allowed their fingers to slip and made of their tapestry mere patchwork. ... We cannot perceive the value of our handicraft until the piece has been completed. We must continue our labor, assembling the disjoined threads, sorting them, selecting and adding colors, according to the directions of the Master Weaver, into a lasting ornament for the walls of eternity. May our lives be busied with the affairs of Christ, as busy as the noisy shuttles of the world as they weave that which the moth will consume."
-from The Tapestry of Life
by Vincent Ferrer Kienberger
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