Finally...now we know!
How late is late? - 10 minutes, 17 seconds.

Blessed are the merciful:
And that, dearest Embot, is why I did not call you at 6:00 o’clock this morning. I could have. In fact, I started to dial your number. But then I envisioned a more perfect world. One in which we all respect the circadian rhythms of our brothers and sisters. A world in which a woman who is asleep at 9:00 o’clock Sunday night is not lazy...nor is her daughter though she is asleep at 6:00AM on her day off.

”Girls who came out of Barat,’ says a woman who did not, ‘have a certain confidence just because they went to an upper class Catholic school. They all have this confidence – even when they shouldn’t.”
Yesterday was the feast day of St. Madeleine Sophie Barat. There was the annual Mass and reception at Barat. Perhaps the last.

Maybe get a blister on your little finger...
Maybe get a blister on your thumb
Really do love my job. But I’m wishing I had taken to heart the advice of my mother, father, primary school teachers, Mr. Steffen - the principal, and so on. They all told me I’d be sorry if I didn’t learn to hold a writing implement properly. OK...so I’m sorry. Two-thirds of the way through entering this year’s First Communicants and Confirmandi and my digits are killin’ me. I shall consider my ‘pencil bump’ a sign that I’m suffering for my art - just like a dancer with battered feet.

A game everybody is playing!
I’ve seen it everywhere, so I’m stuck as to attribution…
A is for Age - 50
B is for Booze – Rarely. But if I must, make it Champagne.
C is for Career - mom
D is for Dad’s name - Loren
E is for Essential items to bring to a party – Sense of humor.
F is for Favorite song at the moment – Jesus, Etc. by Wilco
H is for Hometown – Cedarburg, WI
I is for Instrument you play – I used to play the clarinet. Used to.
J is for Jam or Jelly you like - Apricot
K is for Kids - 6
L is for Living arrangement – 3 bedroom duplex (+ 2 improvised extra bedrooms) for assorted children, pets and books. Exquisitely decorated.
M is for Mom’s name - Isabel
N is for Names of best friends – You know who you are.
O is for overnight hospital stays – 2 tonsillectomies, a cholecystectomy, some odd diseases that they actually hospitalized kids for in the 1960’s, 3 baby deliveries (the others were 2 drive-thrus and a homebirth.)
P is for Phobias – Disorder.
Q is for Quote you like – “Never let anyone outside the family know what you're thinking.” Don Corleone in the original Godfather. Good advice. Which I violate daily. Right here.
R is for Relationship that lasted longest – What do you mean by relationship? I’ve known my sister since 1959. Then there’s Todd, my fifth grade boyfriend who I still talk to from time to time. And I have been married almost 27 years.
S is for Siblings – 1 Sister.
U is for Unique trait – Almost ‘photogiraffic pimento’ –(i.e. – our own idiomatic expression for better than average memory)
V if for Vegetable you love - Asparagus
W is for Worst trait - Pride
X - is for XRays you’ve had – Everything. Especially the teeth. Lots of teeth.
Y is for Yummy food you make – Raspberry meringue puffs.
Z is for Zodiac sign – strictly piscatorial

I said…
lure them to the DECK. Not lure them to their deaths. I must start enunciating.

Perhaps I Must Return to School...
And for more earth shaking news, read the above link until you get to the paragraph Children Impact Sleep Duh.

Lest you experience that burning sensation. I suppose you know about this already.

It was the best of week-ends...
It was the weirdest of week-ends. A young man from our parish, I think he was a class ahead of Embot, was ordained on Saturday. We attended his first Mass yesterday afternoon. What a beautiful experience! (Eddie’s allergy attack, intensified by incense, notwithstanding. So I forgot the pre-emptive drugs. Sue me.) Before Mass began, one of our associates tapped Chuck and Eddie on the back and said, “You could be next!” It’s nice that they hear these things from others. ‘Cause the folks only count for so much.

I drifted off for a moment after Mass when the young priest was thanking his parents. They are such lovely people and I was so pleased that we could share in their happiness yesterday. But my mind drifted momentarily to imagining one of my own boys standing in the sanctuary and thanking us. That turned into a moment like that in the movie Parenthood, in which Gil Buckman goes from a fantasy of young Kevin as college valedictorian to Kevin in the bell tower with a rifle. Best to “stay in the moment.”

Our bilocation powers being weak to non-existent, we were unable to attend another first Mass, but are hoping to celebrate with that young man next week-end. Chuck and Eddie were too antsy to stay for the reception, so we came straight home. Where we found that our two runaway dogs had returned home covered in burrs and ticks and were being shaved on the front porch. With the good - i.e. for people! - hair clippers. At this point I developed a sick headache, took some meds and went to bed.

By mid-evening things appeared to be back to normal. I decided to indulge in one last episode of Desperate Housewives. For the last half of the show I had the strangest feeling that something was tickling my arm. When I finally swatted the presumed gnat, it failed to die and fell to the carpet and walked began to walk away. It was - horrors - ‘cause we’re living in the burbs of a great American metropolis - not the UP - a TICK! I wrapped it in a tissue and yelled for Rick to come and verify my fears. It was indeed. So Rick flushed it. Oh, the humanity... A TICK.

You Make Me Feel So Young...
Many thanks to the caller at work yesterday who asked, "Are you a regular secretary ? 'Cuz I don't want to talk to a kid."

Glorious Day in Chicago!

Chuck...I am your mother...
Happy 16th Birthday to our Charles!!!

House Time!
Just feeling ever so slightly vulnerable. Hope the plot doesn't revolve around a part-time church secretary who leaves work early with cough and fever only to sleep the day away, waking only for final JEOPARDY (hey Alex, I thought Marshall Field coined the phrase "the customer is always right.") and a late dinner. That would be too close to home.

Childe Ellyn and the Purple Violet Crayon...

you are violet #EE82EE

Your dominant hues are red and blue. You're confident and like showing people new ideas. You play well with others and can be very influential if you want to be. Your saturation level is lower than average - You don't stress out over things and don't understand people who do. Finishing projects may sometimes be a challenge, but you schedule time as you see fit and the important things all happen in the end, even if not everyone sees your grand master plan. Your outlook on life is bright. You see good things in situations where others may not be able to, and it frustrates you to see them get down on everything.

the spacefem.com html color quiz

Thanks Summa Mamas!

Just try to find me in your Pantone color guide.

What part of Matris nomen originis
don’t they understand?

Another Monday. Back to work...my cold is mostly behind me (prancing on the lawn at 3:00am in my nightshirt didn’t help - but I don’t think it hurt, either.) so I’m not quite guilty of “presentee-ism.” Oh, well, I took a day off two weeks ago for my dental procedure, so I most likely shouldn’t take a day off until Embot’s wedding...

Maybe its the weather or the fact that I am fueled by cold medications, but I am becoming increasingly irritable and lacking in patience. Last night’s Simpsons episode grated on me. There were funny moments (and we know that Catholics do Rock!) but some of the show was just plain rude. And also a bit disjointed. As much as I enjoy my job, I am praying for patience to deal with the minor irritations. The minor irritations are what get me down. (Large crises can be dealt with appropriately. ) So today I can finish entering the names in the Confirmation register without getting too annoyed with all the people who cannot follow a simple directive like filling out a card with “mother’s maiden name.” Is that so hard? Is it? Then I can move on to the other tasks at hand, including finding altar servers for this week-end’s weddings. And hoping that the ad hoc wedding coordinator that is working on one of the weddings won’t be too dismayed when I can’t find her two altar servers of equal size. And her message also said that I should bear in mind that the bride is a tall girl. What does that mean? She wants tall servers to make her look shorter - or short servers to make her look taller? This is a church, lady, not central casting.

And remember, kids, while I'm gone take your problems to pater. The "only call the church if you are bleeding out of your eyeballs and/or you need to speak with a priest" rules apply until further notice...

Shocking, simply shocking...
The documentary Metallica: Some Kind of Monster sounded interesting when it was first released. So when it was on VH1 Friday evening, I decided to spend my night of relaxation catching up on this bit of pop culture. It was some kind of strange. Metallica has a mission statement? Who knew. And they are in touch with their feelings... Great.

The final effect was that I was left feeling grouchy and put-upon. Having to listen to Metallica’s work in order to absorb the rest of the movie didn’t help. And after two+ hours of listening to their whining, I picked up the whiny torch myself and came downstairs and unloaded an ungracious 15 minute monologue on Rick about how I feel vomited upon by the whole world. By the mopes loitering in the cul-de-sac who were sharing their feelings with the world at top volume. By the co-worker for whom every day is “bring your demons to work day.” By our crazy dogs. And, of course, by Metallica.

Is it just me...
or is the work of Seth McFarlane not funny? I don’t understand how there could be any fan base for Family Guy or American Dad. (Or is that Family Dad and American Guy?) Blech.

15th of May, Lake Bluff (Eddie)
with apologies to Bruce Springsteen.
Eddie the aurora is risin' behind us...
Very early this morning, around 3:00am, I was awakened by the sounds of Rick loading the dishwasher and the front door slamming as the stragglers from a casual get-together that the girls hosted finally departed. I looked outside and saw three neighborhood mopes standing in our frontyard. Staring at the sky; mouthes agape. When I looked up into the sky, I saw some mildy twinkly northern lights to the north.

I must be getting old and jaded because my next move was to put my head on the pillow and try to get back to sleep. Five minutes later, Franny came through the house, pounding on bedroom doors and exhorting everyone to come outside and see the spectacle. Chuck couldn’t make it - probably due to the Ny-Quill he took at bedtime. Martha was reluctant. So was Eddie. But their efforts were rewarded with a most spectacular show of northern lights directly overhead. Now fully awake - and freezing in my nightshirt+cardigan ensemble- I praised their cooperation by noting that we sometimes must make an effort in time, travel etc. if we want to appreciate God’s handiwork in nature. (For some family members, venturing on to the lawn at 3:00am is equivalent to traveling to Siberia to see an eclipse.)
And seeing Eddie’s delight rekindled my awe.

Enthusiasm is now running high for a trip to the UP this summer, ideally timed to coincide with the Perseid meteor showers. The kids have a good grasp of the concept of “light pollution.” (The greater Chicago area has a lot of light pollution. Starting with the porch light on the other half of our townhouse. Courtesy dictated not ringing the neighbors doorbell at 3:00am to ask them to shut it off.)

Look at the Stars! Look, look up at the skies!
O look at all the fire-folk sitting in the air!
The bright boroughs, the circle-citadels there!
-Gerard Manley Hopkins

At the risk of sounding like Andy Rooney...
I would like to ask if you all remember the days when high-end disposable dishes were made to resemble fine tableware? Those days are gone. The new Crate and Barrel catalog for summer now has Porcelain Take-Out Cups that look just like styrofoam! My protestations notwithstanding, there is something cute about them. I may have to get a couple. You know - for that styrofoam look - without the temptation for the young people to take a bite out of the rim. Or make that squeeky sound that makes me crazy!

My Mind: Circa 1978-1987
Should I have tried out for JEOPARDY in ‘89 or ‘93?
I’ll never know.