dual personalities

How’s it goin’?

by chuckofish

Well, cooler weather has finally arrived! I actually wore a sweater yesterday. For this, I am thankful.

Here’s a poem about that by Robert Herrick (1591—1674):

Lord, Thou hast given me a cell

         Wherein to dwell,

A little house, whose humble roof

         Is weather-proof:

Under the spars of which I lie

         Both soft, and dry;

Where Thou my chamber for to ward

         Hast set a guard

Of harmless thoughts, to watch and keep

         Me, while I sleep.

Low is my porch, as is my fate,

         Both void of state;

And yet the threshold of my door

         Is worn by th’ poor,

Who thither come and freely get

         Good words, or meat.

Like as my parlour, so my hall

         And kitchen’s small;

A little buttery, and therein

         A little bin,

Which keeps my little loaf of bread

         Unchipp’d, unflead;

Some brittle sticks of thorn or briar

         Make me a fire,

Close by whose living coal I sit,

         And glow like it.

Lord, I confess too, when I dine,

         The pulse is Thine,

And all those other bits, that be

         There plac’d by Thee;

The worts, the purslain, and the mess

         Of water-cress,

Which of Thy kindness Thou hast sent;

         And my content

Makes those, and my beloved beet,

         To be more sweet.

‘Tis Thou that crown’st my glittering hearth

         With guiltless mirth;

And giv’st me wassail-bowls to drink,

         Spic’d to the brink.

Lord, ’tis Thy plenty-dropping hand

         That soils my land;

And giv’st me, for my bushel sown,

         Twice ten for one;

Thou mak’st my teeming hen to lay

         Her egg each day;

Besides my healthful ewes to bear

         Me twins each year;

The while the conduits of my kine

         Run cream, for wine.

All these, and better, Thou dost send

         Me, to this end,

That I should render, for my part,

         A thankful heart,

Which, fir’d with incense, I resign,

         As wholly Thine;

But the acceptance, that must be,

         My Christ, by Thee.

And here’s an important reminder: “Paul teaches us how we can learn to become grateful. We become grateful by practicing it. Gratitude doesn’t start with a feeling. It starts by simply obeying the Bible’s commands to give thanks in everything. And we can start with whatever is going on in our lives right now, with our families, our work, and the people around us.”

These are great hymns to sing at the end of life or anytime. We sing these hymns regularly in my church.

So look up, be thankful, sing!

Don’t fence me in

by chuckofish

Today marks the 75th anniversary of my parents’ wedding at St. John’s Episcopal Church in Savannah, Georgia in 1950.

Time like an ever-rolling stream and all that.

In other news, The Church of England announced Friday that the Right Reverend and Right Honorable Dame Sarah Mullally has been named the 106th Archbishop of Canterbury–as Albert Mohler says, “A liberal nurse to lead a dying church?” Ugh. As Mohler says, “My own life has been so enriched by the Anglican tradition, and my soul has been fed by towering figures such as John Owen and Bishop Charles Ryle. I hold dear the memory and examples set by towering Reformation martyrs such as Archbishop Thomas Cranmer, Bishop Nicholas Ridley, and Bishop Hugh Latimer. I learned much from J. I. Packer and John Stott and a host of others, living and dead. I am thankful for such good work done by so many for so long. I pray for them. I cherish Anglican music, though I hear it far more commonly in my library than in my church. I grieve for my Anglican friends.”

Well, as Anne says, “Yes, for sure, go to church, but be awfully careful which one. It’s kind of a jungle out there. But for sure, only by being incorporated as a living stone into the same building with the stone that the builders rejected, which is the chief cornerstone, can you be really happy and have the life you really need and desire.”

On a happier note…

And here’s a treat: Bob Dylan sings one of my favorite Cole Porter songs.

My heart is filled with thankfulness

by chuckofish

Yes, that season is upon us–even the boy has a giant skeleton in his front yard. (He inherited it from his in-laws.) Well, to each his own.

Anyway, I had a nice weekend. Pizza night at the boy’s house. A couple of estate sales. A trip to Hobby Lobby. Mr. Smith and daughter #1 came over Saturday night for Chick-fil-a and a movie.

We watched The Man Who Went Up a Hill and Came Down a Mountain (1995)–a favorite of ours from the good ol’ Harvey Weinstein Miramax days. It is a perfect movie–the kind they don’t know how to make anymore.

Highly recommended!

Sunday I went to church as usual and heard a good sermon on Philippians 2:5-11. We had our final Sunday School class on the Power of Story in the Works of C.S. Lewis and J.R.R. Tolkien. I wish it were not over! I brought the twins new notebooks from the dollar store for them to draw/take notes/journal in. They were very pleased. After church we went to the bud’s soccer game which was very pleasant, even if it was a little on the warm side. We will be freezing soon enough.

After the game I went home and took it easy.

My heart is filled with thankfulness
To Him who bore my pain;
Who plumbed the depths of my disgrace
And gave me life again.
Who crushed my curse of sinfulness,
And clothed me with His light,
And wrote His law of righteousness
With power upon my heart.

For every day I have on earth
Is given by the King.
So I will give my life, my all,
To love and follow Him.

Evening dispatch.

by chuckofish

Well, happy Friday, again, dear readers. Yes, I did pre-empt my mother’s reminder text about writing a blog post this evening, because, as always, I have put it off to the last minute. By that, I mean my bedtime. It was a rather uninspiring week. A tedious week. Lots of long red lights downtown, traffic on Highway 40, several employee communications and one blood pressure increasing press release. But at least it is Friday.

I have confirmed that this is my last weekend of 2025 with zero plans. For the rest of the year, I have something to do every weekend. I know, I know..

In reality, it’s most DAR-related activities. Okay, maybe the gif is appropriate.

My mother and I considered taking this opportunity to drive to Litchfield, Illinois, home of a Steak-n-Shake active enough to have billboards on the highway declaring the Golden Age of French Fries has arrived. Our road trip would then take us to the Pink Elephant Antique Mall. Instead, I think I am going to sleep in and do chores and maybe hit up the Hobby Lobby for some fall table/mantle decor. Again, the gif is so accurate.

And I saw this on Instagram…

Forget not

by chuckofish

Even as the giant decorative skeletons crop up around town, I am reminded that I better get going on my Christmas shopping! Also we have multiple birthdays coming up in November/December/January, and have I mentioned, a new baby due in early December! Yes, daughter #2 is expecting baby #3. We are all pretty excited about it. The end of the year is always busy, but it will be even more so this year.

Meanwhile I am busy with my continuing home organization projects, bible study homework and the next edition of the Historical Review. My wonderful 89-year old co-editor stepped in for me over the summer, but I am back and have the reins in hand.

This is an interesting article about how “with poignant wisdom and gentle wit, Charles M. Schulz reinvented the form and introduced the nation to Charlie Brown, Snoopy, Linus, Lucy and so many more indelible characters.”

This is good advice: Forget Not His Faithfulness–“Telling and retelling our stories of God’s faithfulness guards our hearts against forgetfulness, and hearing those stories is one of the ways God builds faith in little hearts.”

And here are a couple of photos I found in my archaeological dig in the basement:

BSA Boundary Waters canoe trip circa 2000. It nearly killed the OM but he did it (and so did the boy)!

Another turned page

by chuckofish

It’s October! Zut alors! Last year at this time I was in beautiful Monument Valley with the OM and daughter #1.

Guess I’ll watch The Searchers (1956) this week…

Well, we must “live in each season as it passes; breathe the air, drink the drink, taste the fruit, and resign yourself to the influence of the earth.” Who said that? Yes, of course, it was Thoreau in “Walden, or, Life in the Woods”.

Earlier in September, we were told by the Missouri Department of Conservation to be “bear aware” when hiking in the woods. So just as a reminder, here is where bears have been sighted in Missouri since 2020:

Yikes! Take care with those bird feeders and barbecues!

Here are Nine Hymn Lyrics You’ve Probably Misunderstood. We sing all these hymns in church. The author suggests that “something that was written 500 years ago can be confusing to a modern audience,” and maybe that is so. If so, “you can learn to sing these words with renewed faith as you come to better understand what they mean!”

And here’s a poem by Rainer Maria Rilke about Autumn:


Burn me down

by chuckofish

Today we salute Marty Stuart, Country Music Hall of Famer, five-time Grammy-winner, and AMA Lifetime Achievement honoree, on his birthday.

As you know, I have been a fan of his since I was about 14 (He was 12.) I have seen him many times in concert.

Enjoy!

Come, ye weary, heavy laden

by chuckofish

How was your weekend? We had blue skies overhead, but it did get kind of toasty watching the bud play soccer on Sunday afternoon!

On Saturday morning daughter #1 and I ventured to Saint Charles across the Missouri River to a DAR cemetery marker ceremony. The SAR Color Guard was there in full regalia to lend support and authenticity to the event. Much appreciated, guys. (Sometimes I do think we live in Mayberry.)

In case you have forgotten, the Battle of Fort San Carlos, was fought on May 26, 1780, between British-allied Indians and defenders of the Franco-Spanish village of St. Louis (Louisiana Territory) during the American Revolutionary War. The garrison, a motley assortment of regulars and militiamen led by Upper Louisiana’s lieutenant governor, Captain Fernando de Leyba, suffered a small number of casualties. A few of the veterans of that battle were buried in Saint Charles. Their graves were later moved to the Saint Charles Borromeo Cemetery in Saint Charles and that is where the marker was dedicated. Lest we forget.

Afterwards we went to old town St. Charles and walked up and down Main Street visiting some “vintique” stores, and ate lunch on the patio of Llewellyn’s Pub, which was delightful.

Meanwhile, I was glad to see that the twins were practicing their BB gun marksmanship in their backyard.

On Sunday I went to church and heard a good sermon on Philippians 1:27-2:4: “Only let your manner of life be worthy of the gospel of Christ, so that whether I come and see you or am absent, I may hear of you that you are standing firm in one spirit, with one mind striving side by side for the faith of the gospel, 28 and not frightened in anything by your opponents.”

We sang “Come Ye Sinners” and I wept from start to finish. The choir was back and in fine fettle and sang “Land of Pure Delight”. Lovely.

And now the inimitable Voddie Baucham has entered into eternity (last Thursday) at the age of 56. It is a lot to process.

Voddie was an American pastor, author and educator. He served nine years as Dean of Theology from 2015 to 2024 at African Christian University in Zambia. Rest in peace, brother.

Well, we go on. Read some history, pet a nice dog. Come to Jesus.

Count It All Joy.

by chuckofish

I met a friend for coffee this morning and rather than leave Mr. Smith in his crate, I left him in the kitchen. Free to roam. And drink some water. And eat his breakfast. But apparently, he was affronted. Because this is the face that greeted me upon my return.

I mean, if looks could kill, right? He seems to have forgotten that just the night before he was enjoying my lap.

Anyway, I had wonderful time in Mahomet last weekend. We braved the spitting rain to see the Little Bulldogs complete three cheers at the Mahomet High School football stadium, hit up two estate sales, AND went to Oktoberfest at the local brewery.

Please note, the perspective is all wrong on this. The stein was legitimately much larger than my hefeweizen. It never ceases to amaze those of us who have lived in grotesquely large cities that you can just go to a place, get a parking spot, and find a table to sit and bask in the live music and outdoor festivities. It was lovely.

This weekend, my mother and I are heading to St. Charles for a DAR event–a patriot grave marker–and we may check out some “vintique” malls while we’re there. I hope to catch up on some chores. And maybe get some fencing to block off access to underneath my deck. Of course, I know the face I’ll get if I do that.

Lest we forget: Laus Deo

by chuckofish

At the top of the Washington monument in Washington D.C., on the East-facing surface, are two Latin words: Laus Deo. “Laus Deo,” translated from the Latin, means “Praise Be To God.” The words cannot be seen from below and they face perpetually to the rising Sun in the east. 

The presence of those two words on his monument may recall, however, the prayer George Washington offered at his first inauguration as the first President of the United States:

“Almighty God; We make our earnest prayer that Thou wilt keep the United States in Thy holy protection; that Thou wilt incline the hearts of the citizens to cultivate a spirit of subordination and obedience to government; and entertain a brotherly affection and love for one another and for their fellow citizens of the United states at large.

And finally that Thou wilt most graciously be pleased to dispose us all to do justice, to love mercy, and to demean ourselves with that charity, humility, and pacific temper of mind which were the characteristics of the Divine Author of our blessed religion, and without a humble imitation of whose example in these things we can never hope to be a happy nation. Grant our supplication, we beseech Thee, through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.”

Amen, indeed!

If you haven’t seen this yet, check it out:

I will leave you with this video of 2 1/2-year old Idabelle’s favorite radio song. She knows all the words and sings along. How I wish I had a video of that!

Yea, though I walk through the valley
I will have

[Chorus]
No fear (No fear)
No fear (No fear)
The mighty power of Jesus is fighting for me here
No fear (No fear)
No fear (No fear)
The light of the world makes the darkness disappear