Memories for Judee's 80th

 Once Judee and I graduated from college. we rented an apartment in Boston.  It was on Beacon Street, no less!  # 344, which was between Exeter and Fairfield Street.  The year was 68-69.  When you walked down Beacon Street or Commonwealth Ave., all you could smell was marijuana.  It was a heady experience, in many ways. 

Out our back window, you could see Back Street, which was really only an alley.  This was our first experience with rats!  Coming from the suburbs, we were appalled.  I parked my car on Back Street, where it was stolen.  My insurance paid for a rental, but the battery was stolen out of that car.  Welcome to the big city, suburban yokel!

However, next to Back Street was Storrow Drive, and next to that was the Charles River.  That was our view, and the Charles is what we focused on.  We thought it was beautiful.  

The weekend we moved in, was ...  dramatic.  We were so excited!  Imagine!  Being 21 and living on Beacon Street, right above the Charles River. 

That night we went clubbing.  We walked to Kenmore Square.  We loved our location.  

Walking home, we probably sang, our hearts were so stimulated.  Arriving home, the first thing we did was snap the light on in the kitchen and...and...and... the wall moved.  It moved.  Like a horror movie, the entire wall moved.  The wall was covered with cockroaches and when we snapped the light on, all...all of the cockroaches, ran down the wall.  I don't think we did or said, or moved, or anything.  We were in shock!  We had never seen a cockroach in our lives, yet we somehow knew what we were experiencing.  

I don't know how we slept that night, but for sure, the first thing we did in the morning was call management.  I think they denied there being any cockroaches, but they did send an exterminator. It didn't work.  We told them and told them, the roaches were still everywhere.  Judee's mother even privately paid for an extermination.  Management kept denying the existence of any coaches.  Then came the day that we found the mother of all cockroaches in our coat closet.  It was the size of a fist.  We dropped the Boston yellow pages phone book on it.  

Then we stepped on it.

CRUNCH.

Judee swept the remains up in a dustpan and dropped it into a lunch bag and brought it to the management office.  Imagine the look on the lady's face, when Judee opened the bag and dropped the humongous cockroach on her desk.

No cockroaches, indeed!

I guess you cannot permanently eradicate cockroaches.  Not in townhouses attached to each other, where new roaches can enter into cracks and reproduce. But cockroaches turned out to be the least of our problems.

One day, we returned home from work to find out that our apartment had been burglarized.  We were pretty sure it was the guys, who used to live in the apartment below us.  One of them had borrowed money from Judee, and as collateral, he gave us his little TV, to be returned when he paid back the money.  Eventually, they moved out.  They never repaid the borrowed money; so no, they didn't get their TV back.  Besides, the TV, they stole Judee's suede jacket, record albums, and I don't remember what else.  The whole experience was, well, disconcerting. 

However, none of the above would have dissuaded us from renewing our lease, were it not for the fact, that the rent went up.  Yes, it went up $ 20.  Imagine the audacity to raise our rent.  And a whole $ 20. at that.  Enough is enough.  We moved back to our parents' home.

The Dead Tell Tales

 Since I've been sick all week, I was looking for books to read.  I saw Covenant of the Dead by Glenn Cooper on Facebook.  The Boston locale, murdered nuns, and it looked like a series.  Have I found a new Three Pines Mysteries? 

I hope so.  I could just picture the locales.  Been there, many times.  The major characters are Sister Elisabetta Celestino and Cal Donovan. Boston Police Detectives Santos and Trinh, are important, too.

Three nuns are murdered and there was nothing stolen except their rosaries.  Eli (Sister Elisabetta) and Cal pay a visit to the nuns.  Then in the Boston Globe, there's news that the murderer is a priest with a red nose. That fits the description of only one priest and he's accused.  He suspiciously dies before going to trial.

Eli and Cal pay a visit to the medium that said a priest with a red nose did it.  There's a picture above the mantel of Arthur Conan Doyle--think Sherlock Holmes.  It seems he had been to this very house and had a seance.  

That was over a hundred years ago and the Bostonians rioted to have these necromancers out of their city. A riot broke out and the medium's four children burned to death.  She blamed the nuns because they were very vocal with their rosaries and singing.  Mmmmmm.  Keep that in mind.

More tragedy to the medium's family.  Her husband and only remaining child were in a car accident.  Husband died and the daughter had to have her legs amputated.  This is the daughter who earns her living doing seances.  

Meanwhile, back in academia (Eli and Cal are professors at Harvard Divinity School).  They contact people in the know to look up Arthur Conan Doyle and Boston seance. Their research also uncovers similar nuns' deaths, dating back a hundred years.  After putting two and two together, rather parenthetical equations, the answer is revealed.

That's not the end.  This is a thriller.  Now that you know who and how, you better move fast to stop more murders.  

St. Botolph

This stained glass window is in the chapel of Regina Cleri.  Father DeAdder told me it was the saint Boston was named after.  I didn't want to argue, but I thought that I knew better.  Boston, Massachusetts was named after Boston in England.  When I got home I was going to prove to myself that I was correct.  

Read below and learn like I did.  

---

Boston's Patron Saint, who few people are aware, perhaps that the city of Boston derives its name from that of an Orthodox saint. St. Botolph, an early saint from Orthodoxy's Western heritage, preached the gospel in England in the seventh century. There is a street in the city that still bears his name. Appropriately, an icon of the Saint was painted for the Holy Epiphany parish in Roslindale, a suburb of Boston, and was blessed on its patronal feast this year, when the parish also celebrated its fortieth anniversary. The icon, executed by Zoya Shcheglov, a parishioner, depicts the Saint in full stature. It has been placed on the south wall, so that the Saint is facing the city and blessing it.
The icon reproduced here was painted by Holy Transfiguration Monastery in Brookline, another Boston suburb, and is available as a print. On the back of the print appers the following brief Life:
Saint Botolph was born in England around 610. In his youth he became a monk in Gaul. By 654 he had returned to England and founded the monastery of Ikanhoe in East Anglia-thereafter, the place came to be called "Botolphston" (from either "Botolph's stone" or "Botolph's town"), which was later contracted to "Boston". Having led many in the way of salvation, and renowned for his sanctity and miracles, Saint Botolph reposed around the year 680. He was greatly revered by his Christian countrymen in antiquity, and is commemorated to this day in the name of two cities, both the original Boston in the Lincolnshire fens (about 100 miles north of London), and likewise its namesake in the New World, in Massachusetts. The feast of St. Botolph is celebrated June 17.

h/t http://www.roca.org/OA/115-116/115aa.htm

Five will get you a Ride

Yesterday's excursion is still rolling over the hills and valleys of my thoughts.  Every once in awhile I'll smile at the thought of our perplexity over the automated ticket machine.  I'm sure we were a virtual comedy show, if anyone was watching us (and I hope not).  We must have looked like a bunch of country bumpkins visiting the big city for the first time.

We couldn't figure out how to get a ticket for just three stops.  It looked like we had to buy the ticket for the entire Alewife commuter rail line.  Also, we wanted a round trip ticket.  "Round Trip" was not words used anywhere.  It didn't seem fair that we should have to buy a ticket for the entire way to Alewife.  We certainly didn't want to buy a "Charlie Card," if none of us have never had a need to buy a Charlie Card in our entire lives, why would we want one to just travel three stops?

There was no one around to help, either.  Bummer.

We decided we'd just have to pay for the entire thing.  It was only five dollars.

Still.

That's not the end of it.  No one had five dollars.  We had "ones," and "twenties."  If we added all our money up together, we had over a hundred dollars.  But what good was it?  We needed a five dollar bill.

This brought me to reflect on the scripture passage in Corinthians, (honest, it really did), of the eye not being able to hear, and the ear not being able to see.  Only a five dollar bill was able to do this particular job.  Having over a hundred dollars was utterly useless.

Thank God for credit cards.  The machine did take Master Card.

h/t  Copy of the eye is by my favorite artist, Anonymous, at Open Clip Art:                      http://openclipart.org/detail/23738/blue-eye-by-anonymous-23738

"Boston" --St. Patrick

Did you know that Boston was the first city in America to celebrate St. Patrick's Day with a parade? That's right, 1737. One version of the story is that on March 17th, some of the drinking in the taverns spilled over into the streets. Sounds plausible to me.

And then when the British troops occupied Boston around 1760, the Irish regiments
celebrated St. Patrick's Day with marching, feasting, and dancing. On March 17, 1775, 70 Redcoats, paraded through the streets of Boston in regimental form.

But then the revolution happened. After the Battle of Lexington and Concord, British troops had retreated to Boston where the Continental Army held them besieged for 11 months. But Washington's troops had positioned cannon on Dorchester Heights overlooking the city. The British would occupy Boston for only a few more days because they could see they would lose that battle. And you know what? They never returned.

Washington was well aware that the liberation of Boston occurred on St. Patrick's Day. A number of the men on his command staff were of Irish descent. The General Orders he issued that day specified that anyone wishing to pass through Continental lines would give the password "Boston," to which the reply would be "St. Patrick." It is said that as the British troops departed, an American band played "St. Patrick's Day in the Morning."

h/t to Fr. Gabriel, who told this story at Mass this morning. h/t to Mass Moments, which is probably where Father got his info. ;-)

Poetry Night

In Book Club we reviewed Mary Oliver's Evidence. We all agreed that this book of poetry is Oliver's best. Of course, we said that the last time. Mary Oliver is our favorite poetess.

We all took turns reading our favorite poems out of the book. We had a special treat, in that the long lost Linda showed up. She's the one who introduced Oliver to us, so it was fitting that she came, tonight. She's been through a lot: new job, working 12 to 14 hours a day, and shingles! ugh!

My favorite phrase is in the "Snowy Egret." The poet describes how the egret has come for forty years to her house. "Don't think he is a casual part of my life."

I'm saving that phrase to tell to someone who needs it. Isn't it beautiful?

How about: "Sometimes I need only to stand wherever I am to be blessed."

Her poetry is so simple and direct. People who say they don't understand poetry would do well to begin with Mary Oliver. We decided to go visit her in P-town. We made plans for May. We'll take the ferry from Boston to Provincetown. We'll visit her book store and give her a telephone call and see if she's up for visitors. Probably not, but that particular book store has her personally autographed books. And P-town is always interesting and fun. It'll be something to look forward to.

Honorary Bostonian

Okay......I've been trying to tell you about this for two days, now. I was reading Boston Magazine www.bostonmagazine.com/issues/in_this_issue.html
This issue is October 2008. The cover story is about envy/how great Boston's places are. The lead quote is from St. Thomas Aquinas, "Charity rejoices in our neighbor's good, while envy grieves over it."
ROFLOL! The last thing a contemplative would do, would frequent the places Boston Magazine refers to.
I'd love to think of the Angelic Doctor in Boston. Where would he fit? MIT, Harvard?
Last night when I tried to write something about this esteemed Bostonian, everything disappeared when I hit "Post." So I'm making a point to Ctrl+C before I Post.
This may be my last post until Monday. I'm going on Magnificat's Pilgrimage of Hope.
www.pilgrimageofhope.com I have three people sleeping over, and four people traveling with me, and ten people to rendevous with. I'll have a lot on my mind, not blogging--that's for sure.
All for the glory of God.