Weekend | dual personalities

February 20, 2017

“And infant voices shall proclaim their early blessings on his name”*

by chuckofish

(Napping wee babes who look like they are sitting up, but are not actually.)

Although it appears that spring has sprung here in flyover country, we all know that this is unlikely. Not to say we did not enjoy the weather this weekend!

I worked in the yard and wore myself out, but what a nice change! While outside, I watched a battle royal between a bunch of crows and a red-tailed hawk that was amazing. Such a ruckus. I gather that crows hate red-tailed hawks and with good reason probably, but count me on team red-tailed hawk.

Anyway, no matter what happens now weather-wise, it won’t be long ’til spring.

I went to church and read the first lesson (the Levitcus reading about love thy neighbor as thyself) and was also the Intercessor. The Gospel lesson was the one about “Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect,” which is setting the bar pretty high for this week.

I started re-reading An Uncertain Place by the French mystery writer Fred Vargas, who is a favorite of mine.

Adamsberg imagined Danglard’s mind as a block of fine limestone, where rain, in other words questions, had hollowed out countless basins in which his worries gathered, unresolved. Every day, three or four of these basins were active simultaneously. Just now, the journey through the tunnel, the woman in London, the feet in Highgate. As Adamsberg had explained to him, the energy Danglard expended on these questions, seeking to empty out the basins, was a waste of time. Because no sooner had he cleared out one space than it made way for something else, for another set of agonizing questions. By digging away at them, he was stopping peaceful sedimentation from taking place, and the natural filling up of the excavations, which would happen if he forgot about them.

If you have not discovered Fred Vargas, I recommend her.

Following up on my blogpost on Friday, I watched a lot of Miami Vice, season three.

This is always a good idea.

The boy and daughter #3 came over after a day at the hospital for spaghetti last night and that was fun.

I could use another day after such a busy weekend, but, alas, I do not have Presidents Day off. Lucky you, if you do.

*Isaac Watts (1674-1748) hymn #544

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February 6, 2017

Teach me, my God and King, in all things thee to see*

by chuckofish

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Got to hold this little nugget this weekend. It felt real good.

I also gabbed on the phone with my dual personality and two daughters. I got my hair cut and put together two Valentine boxes to mail to the aforementioned daughters. I worked in the yard on Sunday when the temperatures soared into the fifties.

The boy came over and helped me take down one twin bed in his old room and haul it and the mattress down to the basement. Then, after carrying the pieces upstairs, he put together the antique double bed I bought at an estate sale last fall (remember?). He is one busy boy and I appreciate his coming over to help his old mother. We didn’t even give him dinner; he was headed somewhere afterwards.

I continued to read The Transit of Venus by Shirley Hazzard–really such a treat.

The cicatrice of stitching on her gloves was an imprint on his brain. Earrings of pearl stared, white-eyed as fish. There was a streak of flowered scarf, inane, and the collar blue. Grief had a painter’s eye, assigning arbitrary meaning at random–like God.

We watched two movies that are practically antiques–The Scarlet Pimpernel (1934) and Captain Blood (1935)–but which, in all the years since they were made, have never been surpassed on so many levels of cinematic effort. We watched a bit of the Super Bowl because the OM wanted to. Truly, I haven’t cared about football since Kurt Warner was traded to Arizona. (Except for Peyton Manning and he retired.)

I felt very happy sitting in church on Sunday. Nothing/no one annoyed me. I will try to hold on to this feeling and carry it into the work week.

Go in peace to love and serve the Lord.

*George Herbert, hymn #592

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November 29, 2016

“Zion hears the watchman singing”*

by chuckofish

How was your four-day weekend? Mine was nice and long and pretty relaxing.

After watching the Macy’s parade and our local parade from the comfort of our couch,

(I spilled the entire Mimosa after taking this Instagram photo!)

we had a lovely Thanksgiving dinner over at the boy’s house, featuring daughter #3’s famous stuffed poitrine de dinde and my cheesy potatoes.

Kirkwood beat Webster Groves for the fourth successive year in the 115th Turkey Day game (the oldest football rivalry game west of the Mississippi River). Please note that this was six days after winning the Class 6 state football title. We did not go to either game, but we are basking in the sunshine of their victories.

Ringing the Frisco Bell

On Black Friday I stayed home and got out a lot of my Christmas decorations. It is always fun to see these guys again.

Of course, despite my best efforts to be organized and having put everything away in the designated spot in the basement, I could not find the new outdoor lights that I bought last year. So the OM trudged off to Walgreens to see what they had

and came home with something in fairly good taste. We got those up on Sunday without too much ado.

I also had coffee with friends and shopped locally like a good citizen on Small Business Saturday. It seemed like everybody was out and about, spending money freely, in our small flyover berg. What’s all this consumer confidence about?

Sunday was the first Sunday in Advent and the Gospel lesson was Matthew 24:36-44, which I like to think of as the “Left Behind” passage

wherein Jesus warns that “Then two will be in the field; one will be taken and one will be left. Two women will be grinding meal together; one will be taken and one will be left. Unfortunately our associate rector did not touch on this specifically in her sermon. Big surprise.

Then the boy and daughter #3 came over to our house for dinner on Sunday night to celebrate his 30th birthday. The OM made spaghetti and we had cake.

I am channelling my mother here. Can you stand it?

I am channeling my mother here. Can you stand it?

Now we are back at the salt mine and December approaches.

*Hymn 61

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November 21, 2016

“Not having any potatoes to give you, I am now going to stake you to some very valuable advice…”*

by chuckofish

I had a long week at work and a very busy Friday and Friday night, so I took it easy this weekend.

I read broadly from this collection of Damon Runyon stories,

and enjoyed it very much if I do not say so myself. Old Runyon has a voice like no other, and the stories, which sometimes involve murder and revenge and heartbreak, are always diverting and stress-reducing in their politically-incorrect way.

I recommend it highly.

Otherwise, I puttered around the house, cleaning and straightening.

And the Christmas cactus is blooming!

All will be well.

May you be made strong with all the strength that comes from his glorious power, and may you be prepared to endure everything with patience, while joyfully giving thanks to the Father, who has enabled you to share in the inheritance of the saints in the light. He has rescued us from the power of darkness and transferred us into the kingdom of his beloved Son, in whom we have redemption, the forgiveness of sins.

–Colossians 1:11

And by the way, next Sunday is Advent I! Can you believe it? Enjoy the short work week!

*The Idyll of Miss Sarah Brown by Damon Runyon

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October 24, 2016

Cheers, it’s Monday!

by chuckofish

Did you have a quiet weekend? I researched whether this pumpkin spice thing really has gone too far. And I got a lot of things around the house done and that felt good.

I went to church and read the first lesson–a not very inspiring passage from Sirach (one of those second-listed wisdom books from the Apocrypha). The second reader got to read from I Timothy–no fair.

Since it is that stewardship time of year, we had our weekly “stewardship moment,” which was delivered by a parishioner who is the producer of a weekly TV show. She was nervous about her testimony, so the two stars of her show came along for moral support and were seated in the congregation. Kind of sweet.

I went to an estate sale in the neighborhood and bought an “antique” wash stand which I put in my den, switching out a table that has never really fit there. I rearranged things and am pleased with how things look.

(Apologies for not having styled an appropriate vignette yet.)

I read quite a bit of Prelude to Terror, an old thriller (1978) by Helen MacInnes. After reading several books by Shirley Jackson, I was having trouble finding something to read. (Karin Fossum’s latest dreary Swedish mystery did not make the cut.) Helen seems to be just what I was looking for.

I watched Genius (2016) about the great editor Maxwell Perkins and the writer Thomas Wolfe. It was disappointing, despite having quite a primo cast.

Sigh. Well, here’s a little Wolfe to make up for the disappointment:

Some things will never change. Some things will always be the same. Lean down your ear upon the earth and listen.

The voice of forest water in the night, a woman’s laughter in the dark, the clean, hard rattle of raked gravel, the cricketing stitch of midday in hot meadows, the delicate web of children’s voices in bright air–these things will never change.

The glitter of sunlight on roughened water, the glory of the stars, the innocence of morning, the smell of the sea in harbors, the feathery blur and smoky buddings of young boughs, and something there that comes and goes and never can be captured, the thorn of spring, the sharp and tongueless cry–these things will always be the same.

All things belonging to the earth will never change–the leaf, the blade, the flower, the wind that cries and sleeps and wakes again, the trees whose stiff arms clash and tremble in the dark, and the dust of lovers long since buried in the earth–all things proceeding from the earth to seasons, all things that lapse and change and come again upon the earth–these things will always be the same, for they come up from the earth that never changes, they go back into the earth that lasts forever. Only the earth endures, but it endures forever.

—You Can’t Go Home Again

So it is Monday again and we are back at the salt mine. Make the most of your day.

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October 18, 2016

Let’s just take a moment

by chuckofish

Daughters #1 and 2 have come and gone.

We spent a good amount of time this past weekend toasting Bob Dylan and his Nobel Prize,

making wedding reception plans,

and picking out a wedding dress.

I made four trips to the airport and drove to Pevely, Missouri and back. The boy played DJ and the OM made tacos. And we managed to watch one of our favorite Woody Allen movies

as well as some classic Buffy episodes.

We accomplished a fair amount and had a boatload of fun. Now the girls have gone home. Sigh. But as we all know,

You cannot prevent the birds of sadness from flying over your head, but you can prevent them from nesting in your hair.

–Chinese proverb

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October 10, 2016

Just as I am*

by chuckofish

Before we went home a little early on Friday in deference to the pre-debate ballyhoo/media circus at our flyover university, we had a long convo with our old friend the campus exterminator. (He really is one of the nicest guys we know–and the cutest. Picture Nathan Fillion if you will.)

He said there were no vermin in the traps he had set the week before. It seems that the rodent we spied last Friday was an errant vole who must have found his way out of the building. Before he left, our exterminator regaled us with tales of our building before the renovation 15 years ago when large rats held sway on the loading dock. We rolled our eyes appreciatively and assured him he was our hero. Unfortunately he could not linger because he had to take the traps over to some dorm where there was a mouse infestation. It seems the boys who live there had taken matters into their own hands and were killing the poor things themselves. Our soft-hearted exterminator was upset about this, so time was a-wasting. He reminded us to call him anytime and we assured him, oh, we will. He left with cupcakes.

So my weekend was relatively uneventful. I did go to the Vintage Market Days, “an upscale vintage-inspired outdoor market featuring original art, antiques, clothing, jewelry, handmade treasures, home décor, outdoor furnishings, consumable yummies, seasonal plantings and a little more” with my friend and her two sisters. It took several hours to work our way through the hordes of shoppers that were there and we were pretty exhausted when we finally made our way back to the car. A trip to Steak ‘N Shake afterwards revived us, however.

I spent the rest of the weekend puttering around my house, getting ready for a visit next weekend from daughters # 1 and 2–that is, if the weather allows for travel.

I started watching The Vicar of Dibley–a British sitcom that ran from 1994–2007–on Netflix.

The premise of this show is that a female Anglican priest is called to an old-fashioned congregation and hilarity ensues. As you can imagine, it is right up my alley.

And my question for you this week is: What did we amuse ourselves with before text-messaging?

Enjoy your Monday!

*Just as I am, though tossed about

with many a conflict, many a doubt;

fightings and fears within, without,

O Lamb of God, I come, I come.

–Charlotte Elliott (1989-1971)

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October 3, 2016

Mustard seeds

by chuckofish

After a hectic week at work, we were faced with a mouse invasion on Friday and I may have shrieked ~~three~~ four times (twice in the middle of a conversation with the former dean of the law school). After calling the maintenance guys, who then called the exterminator, I closed the office and my assistant and I went home. I mean there are limits.

Thus began my weekend.

Luckily good news from Netflix arrived:

I have been waiting for season two! I watched it this weekend and it did not disappoint. I do love Andy and Lance.

I also had fun going to the Best of Missouri Market at the Missouri Botanical Garden with Becky and Carla on Saturday. After driving around looking for a place to park and finally scoring, we found “more than 120 food producers and crafters offering baked goods, fresh and dried flowers, herbs, handcrafted items, baskets, wooden toys, custom jewelry and more” in four big tents. The rain threatened,

but never materialized, so all was well.

I bought a jade plant.

I went to an estate sale after church on Sunday and bought a couple of books and a Christmas present for someone–yes, it’s time to get serious about that. I puttered around and then the boy and daughter #3 came over for dinner.

A good weekend and now it is back to work. Cross your fingers that the mice are gone, gone, gone.

Not so cute in real life.

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September 26, 2016

Grant us strength and courage*

by chuckofish

⁶Of course, there is great gain in godliness combined with contentment; ⁷for we brought nothing into the world, so that we can take nothing out of it; ⁸but if we have food and clothing, we will be content with these. ⁹But those who want to be rich fall into temptation and are trapped by many senseless and harmful desires that plunge people into ruin and destruction. ¹⁰For the love of money is a root of all kinds of evil, and in their eagerness to be rich some have wandered away from the faith and pierced themselves with many pains.

¹¹But as for you, man of God, shun all this; pursue righteousness, godliness, faith, love, endurance, gentleness.¹²Fight the good fight of the faith; take hold of the eternal life, to which you were called and for which you made the good confession in the presence of many witnesses.

There was a lot of uncomfortable scripture in Sunday’s lectionary starting with the “Alas for those at ease in Zion” cautionary speech from Amos, continuing with Paul’s strong words to Timothy, and concluding with the difficult parable of the rich man and Lazarus. Our rector soft-peddled most of it, urging us to “see in love” and to notice the needy etc. All very well and good, but Amos, Paul and Jesus would have rolled their eyes.

During the Prayers of the People one of the acolytes fainted/had a seizure. Since I sit up front on the epistle side of the church, I had a birds-eye view of the whole thing and it was pretty unsettling. I was unsettled to begin with, because I had just heard that three members of the vestry had resigned, including one person who is a regular pillar of the church.

On the one hand, I was happy that I am so out of it that I had no inkling of any drama going on, but it was unsettling nonetheless. I really hate drama at church.

Our U-verse was out on Friday night, so I was forced to watch a DVD and put Longmire off until we were back online the next day. I watched I’m Not There (2007)–or “Ruminations on the life of Bob Dylan, where six characters embody a different aspect of the musician’s life.”

Christian Bale, Cate Blanchett, Heath Ledger, among others, play the different Bobs. It was interesting, but seemed overly gimmick-y. The best thing about it was the real Dylan playing on the soundtrack.

The boy came over on Saturday and we watched the Cards–Cubs game which was fun.

We won 10-4 so that was especially good too.

And I saw these on Etsy:

Now it is Monday and a very busy work week looms. All will be well, right?

*BCP, Post-communion Prayer

6 Comments

September 19, 2016

Tempus fugit

by chuckofish

Happy 5th Anniversary to our blog! How time flies, right? Thanks for reading it! High fives all around.

My restful weekend turned out to be anything but that, which is typical, but okay.

Per usual, I went to the grocery store, had coffee with friends, and went to an estate sale where I rescued a needlepoint brick.

I also put a bid in for an antique full size bed. I never win when I bid at estate sales, but, of course, I did this time when I did not have access to a big car or the boy! (What was I thinking?!) So the OM and I went into figure-this-out-mode and managed to rent a pickup truck. Of course, the rental place called on Sunday morning and were like, sorry, there is no pickup truck available–will a mini van do? Long story short, we did rent a large Town & Country minivan which, when all the seats were collapsed, did the job.

Of course, we had to take the bed apart (not a terribly easy job) at the house and then make numerous trips with bed parts down the windy stairs and out to the car. Then we took it home and unloaded it and returned the minivan to the rental place.

Quite the four-hour ordeal. Oy.

The bed will stay in the garage until some day in the future when I have regained my mojo and want to tackle putting it together. Huzzah.

In other news I am still reading The Lamplighter by Maria Susanna Cummins and enjoying it very much.

I am more than halfway through this 424 page opus. The 1850s weren’t perfect by any means, but it is an okay place to escape from the 2010s.

I watched Keanu (2016)–

which is one of those movies where, literally, everything funny is in the trailer. The movie was not good and, as the boy warned me, there is not enough of the kitten in the movie.

I also watched Young Frankenstein (1974), which I realized I had never actually seen from beginning to end. It was funny (especially after Keanu.)