He's Definitely NOT Catholic

 Percival Everett's book Erasure is a narrative about identity.  Thelonious (Monk) Ellison is the protagonist.  He is a college teacher in California.  When he accepts an invitation to give a paper in Washington, DC, he also plans to visit his mother and sister, who live in the area.

His mother is suffering from Alzheimer's disease.  His sister is a doctor who has an abortion practice. He also has a brother who is also a doctor, out West.  He's kind of out of the family circle because of his own personal issues.

When the sister is murdered, Monk moves back to DC, to take care of Mom.  Monk has written a few books, which haven't been well received.  It seems that everywhere he goes, he is confronted with a popular paperback success, written by someone whom he considers, doesn't know what she's talking about. This drives him to dash off a parody story about an ex-con.  He sends it to his agent and signs it with a "take off" of Stagger Lee. Much to his surprise, Fuck, by  Stagg R. Leigh, is a tremendous success.me ne ment pas.

He's ashamed to own up to being the author of what he considers, trash.  But what can one do? L'âme ne ment pas.

Call to Prayer

Cardinal Seán O'Malley

Chairman, USCCB Committee on Pro-Life Activities

It is a great blessing to be joined in prayer with thousands of Catholics nationwide. The Call to Prayer is a reminder for all of us that we rely on God for everything; it is an invitation to grow in faith and love as we pray and fast together for the protection of life, marriage and religious liberty. Everyone can make a difference for the good of the Church and society through participation in this important campaign. Please join me and so many others in holding up the power of prayer.

The United States Conference of Catholic Bishops is asking people to pray, do penance, and sacrifice, for the sake of renewing a culture of life, marriage, and religious liberty in our country.  Life, marriage, and religious liberty are good for society; they are not just the values of the Catholic Church.  The well-being of society rerquires that strong marriages and families, life, and our religious liberties are promoted and protected.

Our culture does not promote family values.  In many ways our government does not support our religious values and hampers our exercise of our religious freedom.  We live in a threatening environment.

So the USCCB has asked all people of good will to join together in prayer.  You can participate by:

1.  Host or attend a Eucharistic Holy Hour on the last Sunday of the month.

2.  Daily Rosary.

3.  Suggested Prayers of the Faithful, at Mass.

4.  Abstain from meat on Fridays.

5.  Pray

Lots of information on the Call to Prayer website.

Walking Along the Beach

from MEK's Pencil in the Hole

A little gray seal followed me while I walked the beach, this morning.  I saw his little spaniel like snout pop out of a wave, as I scanned the varying colors of the water.  I shouted “Good morning,” and laughed as he dove under a wave. 

  I was going to skip a rock across the surface of the water, but I didn't want to scare away my little friend.  My son, so far this year, holds the “rock skipping” record at nine jumps.  He did that, this weekend, with me as a witness.  I was alone, so that was another reason, not to skip the rock on the surface.  Who’d back up my claim to breaking the new “rock skipping” record?

Instead, I started my Rosary.  I was praying in thanksgiving for bringing hubby home safely yesterday, for a beautiful morning, for reacquainting my senses with the ocean, for life—glorious life.  There’s a plethora of seaside life, on the beach.  When I came back home, I looked up some of the plant life; I’d forgotten about since last summer.  The fish and mammals (seals), and periwinkles, etc., even the sand dunes have life.   God is such a show off.

 

Walking the beach and praying, thanks be to God.

The Family Barometer

You can tell how the family is by the atmosphere around the dinner table.  I'm sorry to say, that as a child, I was the cause of a lot of tension.  No one could get me to eat what I didn't like, and I didn't like most things.  I remember hiding crust in the sugar bowl.  Throwing food to the dog.  Hiding meat in the mashed potatoes.

The worst was when I spilled milk, twice in a row.  My father would slam his hand down on the table and scream obscenities, "Every gd time we sit down to eat, she spoils it."

But I wasn't doing it on purpose.

That's why I never pushed my kids to eat.  They didn't want what was served, "fine."  Just no dessert.  When they were older, they were allowed to get up and make themselves something else.

No big deal.

Everyone says the dinner table should be a place of happy intimacy.  I've tried to do that in my own family because I remember my childhood's table being a place of hostility.  My fault, I'm sorry to say.  I made dinner hell.

Lord have mercy on my poor parents.  They did the best they could.

All Glory Be To God

God desires to be glorified by our happiness.  Our happiness is a part of His divine glory.  This is what I believe and experienced this Mother's Day, yesterday.  Thanks be to God.  

New Porch

St. Mary's Newport, RI

I'm spending some quality family time in Newport RI.  May two year old granddaughter calls it New Porch.  She's going to New Porch.  So blogging will be light this week.

I found that a Catholic Church is only a ten minute walk away, so I can go to daily Mass.  I can also go to the Rosary before Mass. Maybe I can make their Bible Study on Wednesday.  I'm getting more walking done, than at home.  But we're eating out for just about every meal, so I don't think I've lost any weight.

My granddaughter and I swim everyday in a fun pool.  It goes from indoors to outdoors.  I haven't swum outside with the sun on my face and back, for a year.  It felt good.

Kissin Cousins

Last night, the last of the Boston Marathon bombers was caught.  Everyone is relieved that the entire episode is over; we can all breathe a sigh of relief; and we can all pick up our lives where we left off.

For us, it was attending a 50th wedding anniversary.  If the bomber hadn't been caught, Boston would have still been in lock down, and the anniversary party wouldn't have ever happened.

Life goes on.

Hubby and I attended the party for his first cousin.  The wife, Patsy, is hubby's first cousin because they have the same grandparents.  Their fathers were brothers.

The party was especially sweet because of the Boston Marathon bombing.  Everyone cherished this family time, the city of Boston, the ability to celebrate, life, peace, and the grace of God.  It was a reminder of what really is important in life--family.

Especially so, since the last time he saw Patsy, was sixty years ago!

h/t to Face Book

Labor Day

                                                             How I spent Labor Day

Labor Day this year, fell on September 5, 2011.  This year it has meant many things, to me.  First of all, as a Union Member, I give thanks that my union speaks for me.  I would have no chance sitting across the table, from management and negotiating working conditions.  I've been there alone and just don't have the political savvy to see their agenda.  Stupidly, I believe everything management tells me.  I just assume that they have my interests in mind.  Besides, negotiating isn't something I do often.  To me, it's just common sense to have people whose job is to represent me, represent me.  They've trained to do just that.  How could any worker oppose this idea?  Those workers who are anti-union are just jealous that they don't have representatives working for them.  Either they should start their own union to represent their ideas, or give back the benefits that unions have have gotten for all workers, negotiated in collective bargaining.

Yes, I know unions can be corrupt.  Duh.  Did you think they're governed divinely?  Are all popes good people?  Of course unions have their faults, but it is the only voice workers have.  If we lived in the Garden of Eden, we'd have no need of unions.  But we don't.  I thank God for my union membership.

Labor Day also reminds me to send up a prayer for Boston's Labor Priest, Father Edward Boyle, s.j..  His Labor Guild is where AFSCME Local 1298 union reps were trained.

The Labor Guild was created in 1946 by Cardinal Cushing to educate 

Catholic workers about their rights and responsibilities.  Today, the Guild 

continues to run a School of Industrial Relations and offers classes to workers in 

labor law, collective bargaining, steward training, union governance, 

parliamentary procedure, public speaking, organizing, and the philosophy of 

unionism.  Hundreds of students benefit each year from experts and practitioners 

in labor, management, and arbitration who contribute their services.   The Guild 

also provides a neutral venue for collective bargaining, arbitration, and union 

elections.  But most importantly, over the years the Guild, under Father Boyle’s 

leadership, has grown to become the moral voice for labor management 

relations, providing opportunities for the area’s leading union and management 

leaders to meet,  build close personal relationships, and explore ways to work on 

shared problems

                 http://www.law.harvard.edu/programs/lwp/people/staffPapers/kochan/kochan_fahey.pdf

Thank you, Lord for Rerum Novarum, Centisumus Annus, and the Catholic Labor Network.

Labor Day also marks the end of summer on the Cape.  There are still some of the best beach
days left on the Cape.  The crowds have gone, and you can practically have the entire beach to yourself.  The water is warm.  Sometimes warmer than the air.

And although, we might still spend some weekends down here, this weekend is the last weekend that my entire family is together.  That's what these pictures depict.

More reason to thank God.  Deo Gratias.

St. Monica

Next to Ven. Pere Lataste, St. Monica is my favorite saint.  That's because my life has revolved around her in many ways.  Mainly, all my sacraments were received in St. Monica's Church.   Well, I continue to receive Holy Eucharist and Penance, here and there and everywhere, but the sacraments that you only receive once, were at St. Monica's.
    I've always used her as an example of womanhood, wifery, and motherhood.  She was a grandmother too, but no one mentions that.  But a good mother would be a good grandmother; that's reasonable.
    She is best known for persevering in prayer for her son, St. Augustine.  One time, my nephew, Fred, sitting next to me in a pew, in St. Monica's, was incredulous, upon hearing her story.  He exclaimed, "You mean she's a saint for just being a mother!?!!!!!"
    I give my sister credit for putting up with this brat.  Virginia must have been a very good mother for her son to think that all mothers just automatically care and sacrifice for their children.  St. Monica followed her son, Augustine, and prayed, sacrificed, and never gave up on him.  There are stories around today about St. Monica's perseverance.     One is that Bishop Ambrose told her not to worry because there was no way the son of so many tears could not be saved.  Another is that Ambrose told her to stop talking to Augustine about God, and start talking to God about Augustine.
    She must have been a nag.  Which is reason alone for liking her.  She should and could be, Patroness of Nags.  You wouldn't nag, unless you cared.
    There's even a Sodality dedicated to her.  Well, not dedicated to her as a person, but rather, to her ideal, i.e., praying for your lost children.  I even tried to start a St. Monica's Sodality in my own parish but it never caught on.  So I depend on my parish's prayer group to do the job of converting my family.
    Another reason, I've always thought of St. Monica is that my childhood friend was named Monica.  Yeah, she was named after our parish's patron.  You see, her dad was the church's sexton, and he named his daughter after the parish's patron.  We were soul mates and I could kick her because she won't "friend" me on FB.  But I understand.  She's probably forgotten all about FB, and me too, for that matter.  We've moved on.

Then again, St. Monica is all about perseverance.  So I'll never give up on Monica, nor my family.
 
     *   As a side note:  Fred grows up to marry a Monika.  ;-)

Vote Them Out

Image via Wikipedia

I've been reading about New York passing the same sex marriage bill.   What really bothers me is the process.  I'm not against gay people.  All people have dignity.  I don't agree with same sex marriage, but that's not what disturbs me about the states that are passing same sex marriage.

What disturbs me is that it's not the will of the people.

That's one big, fat reason, to oppose the same sex marriage bill.  Others could be Genesis 2: 24, and the Catechism Article 7, 1604.  But I don't have to quote anything religious.  It's just not right for state legislatures to oppose the will of their constituents and vote on redefining traditional  marriage.  Marriage!  The backbone of civilization!  The state is changing society.  It is trying to redefine traditional families.  How do you define social engineering?

Why don't politicians put the question of same-sex marriage on the ballot?  It's not put to the people because same-sex marriage would never pass.  So why do the state legislatures vote it in?

Money.

The Huffington Post states that well-funded gay-rights supporters helped pass the same sex bill.

 "The passage of historic legislation legalizing same sex marriage in the state of New York last Friday was owed in large part to a compelling political motivator: money."

Remember this, everyone.  Your representatives are not representing you.  They vote where the money is.
VOTE THEM OUT.

Map:
Laws regarding same-sex partnerships in the United States

  Same-sex marriage¹

  Unions granting rights similar to marriage^1,2

  Legislation granting limited/enumerated rights¹

  Same-sex marriages performed elsewhere recognized¹

  No specific prohibition or recognition of same-sex marriages or unions

  Statute bans same-sex marriage

  Constitution bans same-sex marriage

  Constitution bans same-sex marriage and some or all other kinds of same-sex unions

¹May include recent laws or court decisions which have created legal recognition of same-sex relationships, but which have not entered into effect yet.
²Same-sex marriage laws in California are complicated;

You Can't Take It with You

My co-worker, Val is into community theater. Since she's in "You Can't Take It With You," I thought I'd go see it to support her. I'm glad I went. It's very funny and I was surprised how good the acting was. I found it very entertaining.

The story is about a crazy family and how the daughter of the family is embarrassed by them. She has to prepare her boyfriend for the encounter before he meets them. He's so in love that he sees them through the eyes of love, so that's not a problem. The problem arises when the boyfriend's parents come for dinner. Imagine wrong day, wrong time, everything going wrong.

The plot line made me think of the dysfunctional family I was born into. I suppose everyone thinks their family is dysfunctional. Actually, I've heard and read of worse families, so I'm not complaining, at all. It made me what I am. It's just that the play made me reminisce.

I was more ashamed, than embarrassed by my family. My father was a drunk. He couldn't hold a job because of that problem. We didn't have a nice home because he fell against, or on, all the furniture, never mind not having the money to buy anything nice. One little girl told me that her mother said that she could play with me, but never to go inside my house, because of my Dad.

So like Alice in "You Can't Take It With You," I had to prepare friends to come over my house, because Daddy may be passed out on the floor, or stagger in. To this day, when I smell booze, it reminds me of my childhood home. I wonder if I smelled boozy.

One important thing, though. As poor a father that my Dad was, I was always secure in his love for me. He named me, you know. He, the agnostic, told me that he didn't want me to believe in anything, or anyone, but myself. Hence, he named me Faith. Here's a picture of Dad with his one, true Faith.

I guess I showed him.

Fourth of July

Great beach day! There's so-o-o-o many people and traffic down here on the Cape. I'm in East Falmouth and off our street is an island in Waquoit Bay. That's where our favorite beach is. It's our favorite because not many people go there. You can't get there without a boat.

Well, you should have seen it today! There were too many people. Walking out to the jetty to fish seemed like you were at a Jimmy Buffet concert. Everyone said the bluefish were running, but we didn't catch anything. Jon caught the same scup, six times!

All the boats anchored off the beach made the area look like a harbor. We did learn a new game called "Beer Bottle Frisbee." Our neighbors in the boat next to us were playing it. They stuck two poles in the water. On top of the poles they put beer bottles. They then played frisbee aiming to knock down the beer bottle. They had a Labrador Retriever that kept swimming off with the frisbee.

Mark and Eric didn't bother with the boat, except to go tubing. They swam to the island. For some reason the horse flies attacked Tanya, until she jumped in the water. No one else even saw a horsefly. The sunblock I put on sweated down into my eye. That was terrible. Twice I stuck my face in the salt water and swam with my eyes open, just hoping to wash it out. That helped, but it was still bothering me. Gradually, the irritation ebbed away.

After supper, everyone went their separate ways to go to their favorite "fireworks watching spot." Dick and I went to the end of Seacoast Blvd. Mark, Eric, Mike, and Christine went to Falmouth Heights. Karen and Marc went to Bristol Beach. Cheryl, Jon, Ellis, Leo, and Tanya went to Menauhant Beach; they did some night fishing, too. When Mark and his group came home they had Jacob with them. Finally! We were expecting him all day.

Everybody said the fireworks weren't as good as last year's. They were O.K. I wonder how Franklin's Fireworks will be, on Monday night.

Haibun

Today is Mother's Day. All three of my children came over my house. Hubby cooked. I did nothing except accept everyone's love. What could be better?

Upon reflection, I wrote this haibun about my three children. It goes without saying that this is tongue in cheek.

Blessed

My husband and I are blessed. We have sired three important personages. It didn't start out that way. They were ordinary babies. As children, they were average. Somehow, about the time of puberty, yes, somehow, somewhere, sometime, something happened.

We noticed it first, with the first. Well, that's to be expected. We knew her the longest. She somehow acquired a superior status. Her bearing as she surveyed her domain suggested royalty. A superior attitude held sway over her siblings.

A proper Princess
Perception of privilege
Proud propriety

The second child grew up with classic middle child syndrome. Perceived slighted. She had to be assertive to be noticed. Demanding, even. Vying for attention, demanding, even vociferous, her tone became commanding.

Essa Generale
Thrives on competition
Demands attention

And lest we forget, his Eminence! Being the only boy, the baby of the brood. He's so secure of his rank, he can sleep in contemplation. No need to discern his place. He's sired into his status. He doesn't have to do anything--just exists.

Lofty Eminence
A natural progeny
Youngest of the three

All heirs to our love. The Princess, Essa Generale, and his Eminence, all have their special place. We don't know how we came to be so blessed; we are just thankful to have some little part in their special lives.