Sanctus Christopher

Waste Not Want Not

2012-01-18T21:02:00.002-06:00

This is the compost bin at Yurkanin Farms. It's nice and full. The problem is that it's full of pine shavings. Pine shavings are about a 300:1 carbon to nitrogen ration. The pile should ideally be at 30:1. Even with all the chicken poop and fruit and vegetable scraps, I'm nowhere near where I need to be after 6 months of piling it high. It should be a steaming chocolaty mess by now. So as much as I (and the chickens) love the pine shavings as litter in the coop, I've had to switch over to something that breaks down a heck of a lot faster.

Rice Hulls. I've been told they break down in days and because they're so much smaller and thinner than the shavings, the nitrogen balance ought to climb quickly. I threw some red wigglers into the compost bin just to give it a boost but if this pile starts heating up the worms won't last very long. And speaking of worms:

I'm hoping that after about 60 days or so, this little worm farm will keep us perpetually in chicken-snacks.

If you don't own chickens or lizards or haven't checked the stock tickers lately, live mealworms are EX-Pensive and dried ones even more so. Growing them myself seems like a no-brainer and pretty simple. They are super high in protein and can be super high in pretty much whatever vitamin/mineral/junk that you feed them. I've added calcium to the wheat bran in addition to the fruit and veggie leftovers I stock it with. I'm hoping these mealworms will be like little 5 hour energy shots for the birds.

And we're doing some major rearranging around the house with the goal of the girls finally each getting their own room. We've had to cut out and replace some duct work before this can happen and of course we, as always, find all sorts of interesting previously unknown damage in the bilges and bowels of the house (like the rotted and moldy insulation in the walls and duct I ripped out of this today). We've got some mortaring to do in the living room too:

I'm insisting the wife take a crack at this as my history in mixing and using cement is... checkered.

And finally, it's that time of year again: science projects. Cezanne chose earthquakes this year so here is our hero in action with the seismometer we built.

Keeping Austin Weird

2012-01-17T13:02:00.000-06:00

Okay... let's see here... mismatched socks, check, a Cinderella dress, check, one formal glove, check, butterfly wings, check, a Wonder Woman top, check, a wedding veil, check, and a Mardi Gras mask, check... on a trampoline, check... Cecilia is doing her part.

Welcome Owen!

2012-01-17T11:27:00.000-06:00

I thought you'd already been a "follower" here, glad to see you and luminousmiseries back!

Welcome!

2012-01-16T08:34:00.000-06:00

And thanks to Maria for the "follow" ! Did you come for the chickens?

Today's Harvest!

2012-01-14T16:17:00.000-06:00

Six of eight laid today and will likely have a seventh within the week! Look at those colors! May have to get another Ameraucana and get those blue eggs back, so delicious...

Welcome Conqueror!

2012-01-13T15:02:00.001-06:00

I don't post as much as I used to here but I still make sure to welcome the occasional soul that winds up here! Welcome to Relativism Conqueror and thanks for the "Follow"! *Edited to fix my atrocious spelling... you know, I used to win spelling bees when I was younger, what has happened? LOL!

The Grass is Always Greener

2012-01-11T12:24:00.000-06:00

Literally. If you happen to have chickens that "free-range" in your back yard all day, the grass, as you can tell in this picture, is always greener on the other side of the fence.

The benefit of course is that we get THESE every day!

Cookie and Darlin, the two in front, started the new year in grand fashion as the first to lay after the winter solstice, pretty much giving an egg a day. Cookie was right on schedule at 25 weeks but Darlin was about 8 weeks overdue for her first egg at 33 weeks.

And Scrappy has finally ended a hideous molt that lasted almost 6 months and is starting to lay occasionally, although for some reason she's breaking her eggs if we don't get them out soon after she's laid. Scrappy, before and after (almost done).

We've decided we're going to remedy the inability to keep anything green by cutting down on the free-ranging. Yay, more work to do on the coop... I'll be extending a fence out from the coop to about 10 feet - chicken wire and 2x4's I'm guessing will be the cheapest method now that I'm out of scrap - and it'll run the length to the back wooden fence. It won't be what they've become used to to but it'll give plenty of space still.

With the new "protected" green area, I can finally get some permanent grass in and finish the creek and pond I started last year. I built two bridges already and may add a third. And I have a new simple and cheap idea for a nice wooden deck too. Last year was such a horribly awful year for us here, with illnesses and deaths and misfortunes, not much time was spent getting the necessary projects done around the house and yard. I hope to have the creek running into a pond off picture at the lower right by the end of spring. Can you say... "ducks" ?

Happy Chritstmas 2011

2011-12-25T01:12:00.000-06:00

Here's to keeping our eyes on what's important in the New Year. God bless you all.

Why Beauty Matters

2011-12-11T03:26:00.000-06:00

Our Saints for the New Advent

2011-11-27T01:42:00.000-06:00

A blessed Advent and thank you to my dear friend for supplying the family saints this year!

Blessed Teresa of Calcutta

Saint Joseph

Saint Peter

Saint Lorenzo Ruiz

Remote Control Stampede

2011-11-01T21:28:00.002-05:00

Every time I think I've seen it all...

Scariest Costumes for a Catholic Halloween

2011-10-31T18:29:00.000-05:00

ONE was scary enough, but the thought of two Queen Elizabeths is blood-curdling!!!

"Yes... hopefully aliens."

2011-10-30T04:17:00.000-05:00

2011 Halloween Pumpkins

2011-10-27T19:44:00.000-05:00

First Tragedy in the Hen House

2011-10-16T23:01:00.000-05:00

Just last week a neighbor asked me how many chickens I had. I laughed when I told her ten because at this point, more than five months in to the adventure, I didn't expect to have that many. It's called "chicken math" and it signifies the addictiveness of keeping backyard chickens.

If for example, you have a local law that limits the amount of poultry you may keep, when you count up your chickens you don't count the chicks because they aren't really "chickens" yet; and you don't count the roosters because since they don't lay eggs, they aren't technically chickens; and you don't count your favorite ones because they aren't really livestock, they're "pets." So when you go to the store to buy two new chickens, you come home with six, because even though you technically have ten chickens already, you've only counted four of them as falling under the poultry ordinances. Sixteen equals ten.

Another aspect of chicken math, the one I applied when I started, is that you always get/hatch/buy more than you need because you're bound to lose some to disease, accidents, predators, etc. I originally wanted six in the flock, so I ended up accumulating ten. After five months, I'd forgotten the reason I got so many. Today I was reminded.

Belle, a White Brahma, and Bilbo, a Plymouth Barred Rock, met the neighbor's Husky puppy this morning. I'll not provide any of the gruesome details but it was sad. Another, Buttercup, must have just escaped, her limp the evidence. All of the chickens living in my backyard are pets, no less than dogs, cats, or horses; each one with their own distincitve personality and with exception of two, we raised each one from their first week of life. I can't even estimate the amount of sweat and money we expended in these birds, counting the coop, the food, the medicine, the treats, the daily chores of cleaning up, and I don't know what else. And it's frustrating too, both Belle and Bilbo were literally ready to lay thier first eggs any day.

Anyway, this morning was a remedial lesson about "chicken math."

It's not the Year for Priests anymore...

2011-10-16T00:55:00.000-05:00

... but that's no reason to stop praying for them. They are still dying, they are still persecuted, they are still falsely accused, they still fall, they still suffer, and they still age.

O Jesus, our great High Priest,

Hear my humble prayers on behalf of your priests. Give them a deep faith, a bright and firm hope, and a burning love which will ever increase in the course of their priestly lives. In their loneliness, comfort them; in their sorrows, strengthen them; in their frustrations, point out to them that it is through suffering that the soul is purified, and show them that they are needed by the Church, they are needed by souls, they are needed for the work of redemption.

O loving Mother Mary, Mother of Priests, take to your heart your sons who are close to you because of their priestly ordinations, and because of the power which they have received to carry on the work of Christ in a world which needs them so much. Be their comfort, be their joy, be their strength, and especially help them to live and defend the ideals of a consecrated celibacy.

Amen.

"What did you learn in school today?"

2011-10-14T22:06:00.000-05:00

Great Expectations

2011-10-05T16:28:00.002-05:00

A lot of things to be hopeful for and about this October. Among them:

October 7: The SSPX will be meeting in a suburb of Rome to discuss the "Preamble" they were given a few weeks ago by the CDF regarding their return to the fold. Symbolism again ranks high as it's the feast of Our Lady of the Rosary and all sides are asked to pray a full Rosary for a positive outcome. It's never been closer.

October 8: Hockey season begins tomorrow (finally!) and my Washington Capitals have been picked by Hockey News to win it all this year. They open against Carolina on October 8. Might this actually be the year that this exquisite painting becomes "non-fiction?"

October 27: Assisi III. A letter was made public a few days ago in which Pope Benedict expressed to a Lutheran friend his motivation behind his upcoming presence at the interfaith meeting previously marked by scandal:

"I understand quite well your concern regarding the participation at the Assisi meeting. However, this commemoration would have to have been celebrated in some way and, all things considered, it seemed to me that the best thing would be for me to personally go there being thus able to determine the direction of it all. I will nevertheless do everything in order that a syncretistic or relativistic interpretation of the event will be impossible and so that what will remain is that I will always believe and confess that which I had called to the attention of the Church with [the Declaration] 'Dominus Iesus'."

October 1: That's the last day my wife had a cigarette. After nearly 30 years for both of us, we're in the quitting "process." She's doing much better than I right now and am so proud of her. Harder than heroin to quit. Here's to hoping it continues throughout the month and forevermore. Prayers for both of us are appreciated.

Scrappy, Always the Nosy One

2011-10-03T05:03:00.002-05:00

And the Truth Slips Out

2011-09-30T16:21:00.001-05:00

Sometimes Freud and I find points upon which we can agree... Cecilia's writing assignment from school; in my mind that's a flaming torch in her hand:

On Why You Will Never Be Happy Here (and shouldn't be)

2011-09-28T19:36:00.000-05:00

From Mystagogy, the Orthodox blog of John Sanidopoulos: his translation of "Scandalized by the Happiness of the Impious and Faithless" by Archimandrite Aimilianos of Simonopetra (Mount Athos).

"Many times believers are scandalized by the happiness of the impious and faithless. Indeed, when we take a look around us, we see that God, according to human logic, very unfairly distributes His good things. Where He should be giving happiness He gives misfortunes. Where He should be giving riches He gives poverty, and where He should have given poverty He gives riches. When we await His blessings, then He gives us a heavy blow, while simultanously He maintains a perpetual smile on others. We are led to say, using a modern phrase, that God always discriminates. We are scandalized by this. Why?..."

Click to continue...

Memory Lanish: Mesmerizing Moves

2011-09-26T22:13:00.000-05:00

When I was in 7th grade, living just outside of Washington DC, "poppin' and breakin'" is what we did (at least if you wanted to fit in). In the halls, between classes, at gym, in the lunchroom, etc. I never could quite master the headspin (it's what I blame my present baldness on, so my wife only makes requests for me to spin on my hand), but today I still manage to embarrass the kids with the occasional inappropriately-timed pop and moonwalk. This guy has taken the genre to the doctorate level. It kicks into gear at about 1:25 and my jaw hits the floor at 4:13.

A Day in the Week in the Capital of the State

2011-09-22T21:08:00.000-05:00

With momma out of town for the week, I've had to do a lot of rushing around making sure everything gets tended to, especially with the girls. Tonight was Tukong Class and Cecilia got to participate along with Cezanne again - this time with nunchucks (every dad's dream for his youngest daughter).

Of course, Cezanne was not to be outdone. She is now known as "Pink Fury" at the dojang (at least by me, but her sparring gear has definitely been the talk).

And before bedtime tonight, Cecilia wanted to make sure that I knew the days of the week:

Her performace was likely inspired by Cezanne practicing her States and Capitals for Social Studies class this week. She came home singing some silly "Nifty Fifty States" song and I quickly had to set her right with the Animaniacs:

Who Knew?

2011-09-20T14:20:00.002-05:00

I mean, it makes sense, but I'd never really considered it before. Sanctus Pullus, indeed. Photo from L'Osservatore Romano and story from the CNS:

"...Each day, 25 cows produce more than 150 gallons of milk, and more than 200 eggs are collected from some 300 hens. In addition, about 60 chickens are raised for meat."

The breed in this picture appears to be a Buff Orpington but I will have to find out for sure. I knew that there were gardens at Castel Gandolfo but not a Papal farm. I'm suddenly enthralled with this and want to now find out much much more.

COMMUNIQUE CONCERNING THE SOCIETY OF ST. PIUS X

2011-09-14T10:49:00.001-05:00

From the Vatican Information Service:

VATICAN CITY, 14 SEP 2011 (VIS) - At midday today the Holy See Press Office released the following communique concerning the postion of the Society of St. Pius X:

"On 14 September at the offices of the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith, Cardinal William Joseph Levada, prefect of the congregation and president of the Pontifical Commission 'Ecclesia Dei'; Archbishop Luis Francisco Ladaria Ferrer S.J., secretary of the congregation, and Msgr. Guido Pozzo, secretary of the pontifical commission, met with Bishop Bernard Fellay, superior general of the Society of St. Pius X, who was accompanied by Fr. Niklaus Pfluger and Fr. Alain-Marc Nely, respectively first and second assistant general to the society.

"Following the appeal of 15 December 2008, addressed by the superior general of the Society of St. Pius X to His Holiness Pope Benedict XVI, the Holy Father decided to remove the excommunication against the four bishops consecrated by Archbishop Lefebvre. At the same time, he approved the opening of discussions with the society in order to clarify doctrinal problems and to heal the existing rift.

"In order to put the Holy Father's instructions into effect, a joint study commission was set up, composed of experts from the Society of St. Pius X and from the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith who met in Rome on eight occasions between October 2009 and April 2011. Their discussions, which aimed to identify and study the essential doctrinal difficulties in the controversial issues, had the result of clarifying the positions of the two sides and their respective motivations.

"While bearing in mind the concerns and demands presented by the Society of St. Pius X about protecting the integrity of the Catholic faith against Vatican Council II's 'hermeneutic of rupture' with Tradition (a theme addressed by Pope Benedict XVI in his address to the Roman Curia on 22 December 2005), the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith maintains that the fundamental basis for achieving full reconciliation with the Apostolic See is the acceptance of the text of the Doctrinal Preamble, which was handed over during a meeting on 14 September 2011. The Preamble defines certain doctrinal principles and criteria for the interpretation Catholic doctrine, which are necessary to ensure faithfulness to the Church Magisterium and 'sentire cum Ecclesia'. At the same time, it leaves open to legitimate discussion the examination and theological explanation of individual expressions and formulations contained in the documents of Vatican Council II and later Magisterium.

"At the same meeting, certain suggestions were made for a canonical solution to the position of the Society of St. Pius X, with a view to achieving the desired reconciliation".

OP/ VIS 20110914 (450)

Some Pics from Work

2011-09-09T07:37:00.000-05:00

Thanks to everyone for all the prayers, now I'm just doing the mop-up work. Pics taken by one of the guys who was lucky enough to be stuck there when it all begin. What a mess.

My poor poor birds...

2011-09-06T21:44:00.000-05:00

... how much love they have to endure here.

Oh, yeah, now the house up the street burnt down this evening. Tip: drought and unattended BBQ's don't mix.

The Wind Blew Yesterday

2011-09-05T21:02:00.002-05:00

...and 63 wildfires broke out in Central Texas, many of them in and around Austin. Most of them are still burning today. To the west, a 1,000 acres that was 80% contained this afternoon just reignited and is spreading again. To the east, two fires merged near the town of Bastrop and as of now it's 16 miles long by 6 miles wide and growing. In Austin, every single resident of Steiner Ranch subdivision was evacuated and the fire is still only 25% contained. It's been hell putting up with the summer this year, record drought and record heat, but this just pushes into the absurd.

I worked several days of overtime out at the ranch last week so I decided I was going to go into work later yesterday than my normal evening arrival time. Providence. If I'd done my normal routine of rushing out of the (oh so conveniently-timed) afternoon Latin Mass and speeding home to get changed and flying back out to get to work on time, well, I'd have been to work on time. I was soon asked to come in earlier though to help out with some brush fires so I ended up leaving only about a half hour later than normal. When I got to within 5 miles of work it was like an apocolyptic horizon, plumes of smoke and fires dotting the hills everywhere. The police had only minutes before closed down the highway and the dry river I just crossed was starting to catch fire where I finally had to turn around. If I'd left just a little bit sooner, I would've made it in to the ranch but I guess I wasn't supposed to.

I drove around and parked for an hour or so, talking to and texting the guys who were at work fighting to keep the buildings from catching fire as every tree and bush on the 400 acres went up in flames. The fire department had responded initially very quickly but had to bail out as soon as it was apparent the fire was more massive than imagined and they were far behind it. That left everyone to fend for themselves. God bless 'em, they saved every building on the ranch, even as their cars were scorched. On the nearest street over from the ranch, 25 houses disappeared in a few minutes.

And now a short rant:

Shame on Austin's news networks. I've always laughed at the Austin news with its 2 minutes of world news, 2 minutes of crime, 10 minutes of local fluff, and 10 minutes of weather (to be replaced by 10 minutes of football if it's a weekend). While I was parked, waiting to find out if I could get to the ranch, I tried in vain to find out any information on the radio. The stations may have just as well been playing a recording of chirping crickets. I called my wife for her to check the internet and she found only a couple vague mentions of any of the fires that had been burning around town all day. Finally, a few stations started posting a few more paragraph stories but still nothing on the radio. It wasn't until seven (five hours after the fire was first called in) that the single Austin news station, KLBJ, went live on the infernos. From then on, their coverage was monumental. Not because they were on the story, but because they simply opened their phone lines and took calls from listeners all over Central Texas giving updates on fire locations, road closures, property damage, shelter info, people who were opening their homes to evacuees, and even where good samaritans were giving away free gasoline to people on evacuation routes. A+ to KLBJ for doing that, totally unfiltered. Realizing there was no way I was getting to work any time soon, I finally drove home.

At home, I sat by the radio for another 4 hours. And then at midnight, the coverage simply stopped. Disgusted, I went to bed. And then getting up in the morning, I assumed there would have been a lot to catch up on so I jumped right on the internet. Guess again. The most recent Austin news sources had posted their last stories at one in the morning or so. I turned on the radio. It may have just as well been a political talk show, the replacement morning "hosts" unable to keep their focus on the events taking place and instead going on and on and on about what the Governor hasn't been doing to help everyone as if they were 5 year olds and utterly unable to help themselves (as the callers were all not doing the previous night). Callers were asking them to please stop the politicking but they just couldn't control themselves. An embarrassment. And I've been very reserved in writing this.

I can't shake the deja vu of yesterday either. I was in Washington DC for the Septmber 11 attacks ten years ago and I experienced much of the same feelings of confusion and uncertainty yesterday as I did then. What was going to happen next? When would it end? Like then, rumors were flying all over and no one knew any facts for a long time. It was chaos.

So today, the humidity dropped to 12%, the temp to 92, and the wind held steady at 20 or so. Bad for the fires still but ironically the nicest day we've had here for 5 months. Doors and windows were thrown open despite the smell and dust in the air. The kids were home for Labor Day and since i was unable to offer any help at work because the highway is still closed, I decided to take the kids out to the park and enjoy the day. Cecilia is a natural on her new bike and I can't turn my head or she's gone a hundred yards down the trail! Life goes on.

And I have to thank David Marciniak for the concern last night all the way from Buffalo and for your offered prayers for us all. The Sabres still stink but you're a good friend sir, and it's an honor to know you, thank you.

Attachment

2011-08-30T10:44:00.000-05:00

From CatholicCulture:

Reflecting on the day’s Gospel, in which Jesus told his disciples that He must go to Jerusalem to suffer and die, the Pope said that the disciples’ resistance was the same as the reaction of the many Christians who are not ready to accept the Cross. The Pope reminded his audience that Jesus instructs all his followers to pick up the Cross. Resisting that challenge means rejecting Christ, the Pontiff said: “When the fulfilment of one's life is geared solely to social success and to physical and financial well-being, one no longer reasons according to God but according to men.”

Perspective

2011-08-29T17:26:00.000-05:00

The Outer Banks, North Carolina after Hurricane Irene - a little pride-check on on our supposed mastery over the elements. I love the Outer Banks. I had my first taste of liquor and my first cigar here as a pre-teen. And as a teenager I used to drive down from Washington DC just to watch the sunrise here and then drive home again. I was married here. Someone I love very much is dying of cancer here. There is nothing new in these photos really. This has been going on forever here, and everywhere. I'm sorry for the people who've lost their posessions but sometimes we get these reminders that everything on earth is fleeting, that we should take stock in the fact that our true home lies elsewhere.

Every one therefore that heareth these my words, and doth them, shall be likened to a wise man that built his house upon a rock, And the rain fell, and the floods came, and the winds blew, and they beat upon that house, and it fell not, for it was founded on a rock. And every one that heareth these my words, and doth them not, shall be like a foolish man that built his house upon the sand, And the rain fell, and the floods came, and the winds blew, and they beat upon that house, and it fell, and great was the fall thereof. Matthew 7:24

Keep Austin Weird

2011-08-25T18:54:00.000-05:00

I am the reason there are homeowners associations...

All Dogs Go to Heaven

2011-08-24T13:02:00.000-05:00

Towards "One" Church

2011-08-23T14:49:00.000-05:00

I can't remember where I saw this earlier so I can't give credit where it's due but from the website of the Dominican Sisters of Wanganui comes this: a nun of a "regular" order in New Zealand was given permission by the Congregation for Religious and Secular Institutes in Rome to transfer to an order established in 1997 by the SSPX. The blog post is titled, "A Momentous Occasion"

This is a big deal, though I doubt you'll find this news in many mainstream places. Along with the news that the Superior General of the SSPX and his two assistant-priests have been called to Rome for a meeting with Cardinal Levada of the CDF on September 14 (providentially, the Feast of the Exaltation of the Cross as well as the fourth anniversary of the Summorum Pontificum), this is very very encouraging news towards the return of One Church; Holy, Catholic, and Apostolic.

"...it is understood that the meeting will dwell on the canonical situation of the Fraternity" as opposed to the "doctrinal" talks that have been taking place over the past two years.

And on the first day...

2011-08-22T08:46:00.000-05:00

...he rested.

Rosaries with the Chickens

2011-08-17T20:40:00.001-05:00

Back in February, when I halted posting at this blog, I entered sort of a disequilibrium. The desert fathers used to call it acedia. I assume it's an aspect of the "dark night of the soul" but I've yet been able to really approach that topic despite several attempts. Either way, I wasn't able to shake the torpor. I stopped saying the rosary, stopping praying for things and people I'm bound to, and slacked off on the sacraments. I couldn't get out of it.

One of things I did to try to break the sloth/depression/anomie was to start this blog back up. I found that I was a better person when I was blogging here; better with my family, at church, at keeping things in perspective. I think maybe it's helped but there was something else I started doing shortly after that deserves some credit.

In the middle of July, my wife went out town for work. Most men, finding themselves single for a week would crack open an extra beer or two, watch some UFC, maybe have a cigar in the house. Me, I went out and bought some chicks. That's right, you can't stop me. Try...

When you have week-old chicks, you can't mix them in with the older birds, they'll get pecked to death (just like I would if I fell asleep in the coop). I have a "brooder" that I built and put in the playroom to keep them in until they're ready to be introduced to the flock. As I get ready to make the first move to keep them in a separated portion of the coop, I'm slowly introducing them to the outside world. At least twice a day I gather them up in a bucket and take them out in the front yard. There they get to hide in the bushes, take their dirt baths, find little bugs, and stiffen up when airplanes and hawks fly overhead.

It was during the morning outings that I was sitting there watching them that I started saying the rosary again. I don't know what spurred it at first, maybe the silence, maybe the boredom while waiting for them to do their thing. But sure enough, I started saying it again. Soon I was saying it in the car and at work, remembering all my dear blogger friends again as I did so (that means you if you're here reading this). It's become regular and right again and I'm once more feeling part of that big picture that makes up the church militant. The picture up at the top is my standard visual for all the decades now...

It's safe to say that everyone at one time or another goes through this disequilibrium. I don't think there's many that can say that their chickens got them saying the rosary again though. Sanctus Pullus.

Hello...

2011-08-11T20:51:00.000-05:00

I can never get enough of it.

A New Welcome

2011-08-07T19:22:00.000-05:00

Thanks to "oneintheirhearts" for signing up as a follower! Somehow, Spirit Daily came across my piece on Our Lady of Hostyn from last January and posted it as their top story. 11,000 hits here in 24 hours. Yipes.

Five tomorrow

2011-08-07T00:58:00.004-05:00

I spent the evening putting together Cecilia's oh-so-eagerly anticipated birthday present (Greater Swiss Mountain dog not included). She's come a long way from this tiny yellow babe:

She got her helmet a day early from her aunt:

And the updates:

And the party:

Now I'm catchin' stuff ...

2011-08-03T20:28:00.000-05:00

... without even trying.

This poor little dove was scared poopless; somehow he managed to dive down into the feeder tonight and couldn't find room to twist himself back out. Either that, or he ate so much food in there that he got too fat to get out. I normally blast intruders like squirrels and pigeons with a jet from the garden hose whenever I see them near the coop but I didn't have the heart to soak this one. Again, another beautiful animal.

A Sucker for Sardines

2011-08-01T09:56:00.000-05:00

What I came home to this morning: Caught this fella trying to get at the chickens last night. The paw prints and bent screen on the door tipped us off to him. I hope he's the only thing we catch this week in the two traps we have out (besides the neighbor's cat, who by the way, was apperently very very unhappy having been stuck in a trap all night. The cat. Not the neighbor.)

I have to admit though, I've been trapping possums at work for a long time and I've never seen one as clean and unsmelly as this one. If I was to have a pet possum, he'd be at the top my list.

The 2011 Bulwer-Lytton (BAD) Fiction Contest

2011-07-26T19:13:00.001-05:00

And this year's winner is (drum rolllllllllllllll): Sue Fondrie from Oshkosh, WI ...

"Cheryl’s mind turned like the vanes of a wind-powered turbine, chopping her sparrow-like thoughts into bloody pieces that fell onto a growing pile of forgotten memories."

There are a few category winners and runners-up from Austin this year too, see the whole round-up here.

Meet Dahlia

2011-07-25T20:20:00.001-05:00

As it turned out, naming one of the newest chicks with a male name turned out to be prophetic. Frodo, a Splash Marans, very quickly started to develop a big comb and some very powerful-looking legs. So, Frodo went back to the store today. He's still young enough and cute enough for someone to want him (outside of Austin) - he's going to be a very beautiful and very wanted bird as his price tag of $12 indicated he would.

And now, in with Dahlia, a Speckled Sussex:

Very, Very Proud

2011-07-23T20:22:00.001-05:00

She's only been in Tukong for three weeks but today she passed her test for the yellow belt. I think that normally the waiting period to move up from white belt is three months but on Thursday, she came home and said that her instructor told her to take the test on Saturday along with the other kids that were advancing (momma took her to class that night).

So it was two nights and a morning of hard studying and practicing of things she not only hadn't learrned yet but hadn't even been introduced to yet. She did great despite the pre-test melancholy you can see in the picture above.

Cecilia trying Tukong

2011-07-22T19:48:00.001-05:00

She got to try her hand (or feet) at Cezanne's Tukong class yesterday. She's the tiny one in the pink way in the back doing jump-kicks. Full screen is best.

About Face

2011-07-22T08:47:00.001-05:00

"A man finds room in the few square inches of the face for the traits of all his ancestors; for the expression of all his history, and his wants." ~ my second Ralph Waldo Emerson quote this month

I find the face-painting of the tribes of the Omo Valley in Ethiopia unmatched in its beauty and originality. It really just takes your breath away, you can't help but gasp at some them. However, it doesn't quite translate so well into western traditions:

A collection of these from Andy Alcala here. Some of the paintings are sort of pretty but it's much too gimmicky for my taste and I think maybe he could've drawn from a better pool of works.

"It is the common wonder of all men, how among so many million faces, there should be none alike." ~ Sir Thomas Browne

Personally, I much prefer the ones the kids and I came up with back in May while stuck in the house on one of our three rainy days this year:

"I am the family face; flesh perishes, I live on, projecting trait and trace through time to times anon, and leaping from place to place over oblivion." ~ Thomas Hardy

Beginner's Luck

2011-07-21T22:19:00.000-05:00

The Long Hot Summer: Saint Wizzy Returns

2011-07-20T11:56:00.001-05:00

So I walked out into the living room last week to discover these signs of predation. You don't need to be a French trapper or a cryptozoologist to figure out what sort of animal crossed this way - a tiny-toed, upright biped with a short gait, dripping wet from the watering hole, and the door left wide open in 110 degree heat - it's obviously the Cecilianis Disappearialis Quickius, most likely on the hunt for some chocolate-themed food snack.

It's been a miserable one so far this summer; a pleasant relief when the mercury only gets to 99 and that's been pretty rare. Everyone is slowly going a bit loony stuck inside most days and now that the inflatable pool popped the kids have been forced to get a bit more creative in their activities.

So Cezanne decided to form a theater club. She and her best friend have been spending hours and hours making up schedules and rules and regulations and invitations for a play they're going to put on. They had the cast and crew and rehearsal times all down. All they needed to do was come up with a play...

I don't know who came up with the idea, but the production will apparently be a dramatic telling of the life and deeds of Saint Wizzy (if you're behind on the Wizzyiology, here's the original post and then the follow-ups). They spent last evening writing a script on the computer; I heard them whispering something about Justin Beiber playing the role of an English peasant so I can't vouch for how historically accurate it will be.

Something else funny from last night while driving Cezanne to martial arts class. A few blocks from our house is a little Mexican eatery called the Latin Cafe, located next to a day-worker house. As we drove by, Cezanne says, "We should go to the Latin Cafe one of these nights. I looked over and saw all the immigrants sitting on the stoop outside of it waiting for work. I was a bit puzzled as to why she brought it up and I thought about it for a little while before I said, "I suppose we could, the food's probably pretty good, but you know, they likely don't speak English in there." Cezanne just kind of nodded and then I realized what she was thinking. I said, "Cezanne, you realize they don't speak Latin in there, right?" And then it was her turn to be puzzled so I spent the next ten minutes explaining that the "Latin" in the Latin Mass didn't relate to the "Latin" in the Latin Cafe. She was disappointed there weren't any Romans in there...

And you didn't think you could escape a post here anymore without chickens did you? The old chicks almost grown now:

And woohoo! - the four new chicks I got last week:

Bob Dylan - Shelter From the Storm (Original studio version)

2011-07-18T01:42:00.000-05:00

Evolution (of a Coop) is Costly

2011-07-10T19:04:00.000-05:00

It began as a simple design created mostly out of scrap wood from a bathroom remodel and the paneling ripped off of the playroom walls. It ended up being about 4' x 10' in the end (the tape measure was rarely used as I actually made it up as I went along). I also wanted to build it as secure as could be from the limitless supply of critters that would love a chicken dinner. Start to finish, inluding all the staples and nails and screws, I was out about $175. The most expensive element was the metal mesh.

Of course though, things evolve... Despite everyone telling me the run beneath the coop was large enough for three chickens I planned on having, it just didn't seem like very much room to me. So the run was extended another 8' or so. Another $100 for more mesh and screws and staples...

I finished the addition with a vented roof to let some sun into the run, still naively thinking that the future occupents would be spending 98% of their daytime hours inside it...

But as it became clear after we got our first chickens that the entire back yard was destined to be their run, I decided to go ahead and put on a roof even if only for aesthetics. Another $35 for the aluminum...

Alas, it didn't take long to get the itchin's for more chickens and reaching and crawling around inside the run to clean up was getting to be a real pain, so my wife bugged me to make it a "walk-in" until I finally gave in. Another $50 for more supplies...

So, not counting the day to day chicken requirements like feeders, pine shavings, medicines, etc., and not counting the costs of the "chicken-nipple" watering system my wife built, the coop I planned to build entirely from scrap wood so far has cost about $400...

...it's been worth it. I think.

Now, what colors to paint it... maybe a nice cow-print.

My New Shirt

2011-07-05T19:04:00.000-05:00

Beauty and Happiness

2011-07-03T19:41:00.000-05:00

"We find a delight in the beauty and happiness of children, that makes the heart too big for the body" - Ralph Waldo Emerson.

It Goes by Many Names...

2011-07-01T15:32:00.001-05:00

Sometimes they call it a Fairy Egg, sometimes a "Luck" Egg, dwarf, miniature, or empty. But the most aptly well-used name for a freakishly tiny egg laid by a full-grown chicken is the "Fart Egg." These tiny things are usually produced by first-time layers as their bodies become accustomed to laying eggs but occasionally a mature adult drops one. Scrappy laid this one. Pretty cute, about an inch and a half long. And it's yolkless:

My Special Combat Warrior

2011-06-28T20:00:00.002-05:00

The Week: Te Deum, Tukong, and Rest in Peace

2011-06-24T23:59:00.001-05:00

Not on Facebook anymore, I'll be occasionally be adding a little more family details here so some relatives and friends can still keep up with us.

A busy one it was so I'll first present the greatest accomplishment. I actually managed to (almost) get a complete picture of all four of the chicks in a group. I know that sounds fairly mundane but these chicks jump around more than Cezanne in church. Buttercup moved at the very last second and slid her beak off camera, otherwise it would have been suitable for framed prints for all of you...

And on the homefront, I had an estimate done to have a decent deck put on the back of the house. I'd wanted a pro to set a solid and permanent foundation that I could add a screened porch and an office to later but I've discovered what you want is usually not what you can afford. Way out of my league. Looks like it's going to be another mom and pop project. I did finally get the chimney cleaned and was relieved to learn that there wasn't any hidden structural damage inside it anywhere. The next two projects: expanding the coop into a walk-in and digging out a creek across the back yard (that may or may not actually circulate, we shall see). Pics of course will follow if things turn out okay...

A Te Deum for the first rain here in six weeks! With the sixteen days of 100+ temps, everyone was starting to get a little on edge. Being woken up at 2 am on the first day of summer by freaked out dogs and kids didn't even bother me. Don't know how the chickens handled it. And I came across an interesting chart that explains why in spite of record drought and temps, Austin is still far from implementing any severe water restrictions:

The Austin population has grown by 200,000 since 1997 but last year used the same amount of water since then. Pretty incredible. Unfortunately, despite what they will tell you, good behavior is a punishable offense. Austinites have taken water restrictions so seriously that there is now a revenue shortfall from the utility. Rates are going up because we aren't buying enough water...

Cecilia had some hearing issues for a few months but this week was given the "normal" thumbs up. I'd avoided signing her up for swimming lesson until now to prevent any water build-up in the ears. Waiting so long means that the soonest she could start at my local place of choice would be the end of July. I can't wait until I can actually take her to the pool without having to hold onto her the entire time...

Cezanne however started a trial class last night at a very unique martial arts school and she had a blast. She'll go to a few free trial classes with the regulars to get a feel for it but she's already begging to sign up. I was looking for a very traditional and disciplined school as opposed to the many out there that are basicly karate day-care programs. The Grand Master there is a very interesting man and a well-known internationally. He teaches a form of Korean martial arts called "Tu Kong" (Special Combat). He grew up in a Buddhist temple and practiced martial arts from the age of five until he went into the South Korean Special Forces and presided over their anti-terrorism training. He was also picked to implement the changeover of fighting techniques in the Korean Army from Tae Kwon Do to Tu Kong. I know a few people that trained with him and I had thought about taking classes there myself when we first moved back to Austin. It's expensive though and after Cezanne's lackluster interest in guitar lessons, we still have to think about it. While waiting for class to start, we went into an exotic pet store and found this giant tortoise strolling around pooping everywhere:

And "just one more thing," another great one went this week. Rest in peace, Peter Falk, who died today at 83. I used to watch Columbo as a kid and I'll never forget how he solved the murder at the swimming pool when the missing murder-weapon, a block of ice, had melted away. But his best role as far as I'm concerned will always be as "Grandpa" in The Princess Bride:

Happy Father's Day

2011-06-19T00:20:00.000-05:00

Rest in Peace, Big Man

2011-06-18T21:51:00.000-05:00

"When the change was made uptown
And the big man joined the band,
From the coastline to the city
All the little pretties raised their hands..."

Clarence Clemmons, the "big man," gone at 69.

Meet the Ladies

2011-06-13T22:05:00.001-05:00

I've had the hankering to raise chickens for several years, so one day back in April I took a look in the super-secret scrap wood pile behind the shed and realized I had enough there to build a coop. I didn't know anything about chickens or anything about coops (just what I learned from Bugs Bunny and Foghorn Leghorn) so I "winged" it and made it up as I went along. It turned out even better than I thought after working on it for a few weeks. And just over a month ago, on the last day it rained, our first three chickens arrived.

We got them from a guy off Craigslist (whom I'll only recently give the benefit of the doubt and assume that he didn't know the really crappy condition that they were in. It took several weeks of de-worming and de-miting and feather trimming before we were sure they were going to live. We had no idea what to look for when we received them, now we do). It's been fascinating learning about them as we go along. Yes, I think chickens are fascinating, get your laughs out now. By the way, they were already named when we got them and they actually knew and responded to them.

Scrappy, a perpetually molting White Amberlink, lays medium-sized brown eggs. She's the smart one and the most people-friendly. Her leadership role at her previous home was taken from her the day she got here. No idea how old she is, supposedly a year but I have reason to think she's a year or so past that.

Waffles, a Barn/Leg mix, bred to produce a dual purpose bird, that lays medium peach colored eggs. She's very soft and very fat and seems the most motherly of the three. Even her clucking is different, very soft and almost comforting.

And Bunny, a Blue Ameraucana, lays small blue eggs. She's taken the role of queen, kicking Scrappy's behind a few times to prove it. She's not particularly bright or nice or people-friendly and she's a big klutz, literally falling out of the coop every morning. But... she's serious about being the leader and actually scared off a curious cat with her flapping and squawking.

We usually get three eggs a day (exactly what I wanted) and they are dee-licious, like eating a sandwich.

Of course, "some" is never enough is it? So I went out and bought some week-old chicks from Callahan's. I picked out a Black Australorp (good layers in the Texas heat), a Light Brahma, big, fat, and pretty, and a Plymouth Barred-Rock that my wife wanted. And also of course, since no one can resist a cute girl holding a baby chick, the salesman gave Cezanne a Buff Brahma for free. We each had our own chick, however, my wife and I got ours mixed up somehow and not that it really matters but I ended up with hers and she with mine.

Darlin, the Black Australorp that was supposed to have been mine.

Buttercup, Cezanne's freebie Buff Brahma.

The daring Belle, being crushed by Cecilia. Cecilia raised her hands after this and yelled, "Mine's the meanest!!!"

And I just realized I don't have any pics of Bilbo, except that she's the one by the tennis ball in the group shot above, have to remedy that soon.

And here is the coop in its second phase. The first phase didn't have the extended "run" on the left. The next phase will be raising that whole left side into a walk-in before the chicks are introduced to the flock. Right now, they're in a cage in the house and won't be full-time living with the older birds for a few months. Hopefully they'll all be laying before Thanksgiving.

As expected, with chickens, come flies. My genius (and waaaay too interested in the chickens) wife built this this handy-dandy little fly-catcher baited with a piece of banana and a popsicle. Considering the fact that flies are still appearing despite a hundred of them meeting their doom in this thing every day, it's staggering to think of how many maggots must be wiggling in hidden decaying corners all around the neighborhood...

And lest I forget to mention, the idyllic life of our chickens is not all care-free. Jack and Brandy cannot stop licking their chops every time they get near a bird. Jack actually wrapped his jaws around Scrappy's tail and chomped down three times before I got him away. He's a terrier, that's what he does. I can only hope that the "I Love Lucy" chicken episode doesn't repeat itself here.

By the way, if any of you Catholic homesteaders are on the Backyard Chickens site, my handle is SanctusPullus. Yes, you can all laugh again.

I'll end this post with one of the most memorable bits of literature I've ever read. It's stuck with me for twenty years and finally I can fully understand it in its context. From Louis Ferdinand Celine, Journey to the End of the Night:

"For three weeks the chicken lived with me like that, following me like a dog, clucking constantly, seeing snakes wherever he went. One day of extreme boredom, I ate him."

2011-06-12T00:02:00.001-05:00

So I sat down at the computer this evening and decided I was ready to start up Sanctus Christopher again. Much has happened over four months. Prepare yourself for chickens.

'Nuff Said

2011-02-14T01:48:00.000-06:00

I think I'm done here. Thanks to everyone who made it a treat, you'll all remain in my prayers! I'll probably continue to post the rare photos of our pilgrimage to the churches of the diocese and hopefully, I'll still see many of you at my Three Hundred Words site. God bless you!

Seafarers Saturday: Pirate Captain Jim

2011-02-12T00:46:00.000-06:00

"Walk the plank," says Pirate Jim.

"But Captain Jim, I cannot swim."

"Then you must steer us through the gale."

"But Captain Jim, I cannot sail."

"Then down with the galley slaves you go."

"But Captain Jim, I cannot row."

"Then you must be a pirate's clerk."

"But Captain Jim, I cannot work."

"Then a pirate captain you must be."

"Thank you, Jim," says Captain Me.

~ Shel Silverstein

The Ups and the Downs

2011-02-09T18:44:00.000-06:00

The UPS:

Making some real progress in the library, actually beginning to shelve books according to topic/author/language; that first wall behind the chair is nothing but lives of saints (about 1,500 so far, still adding to it). It's almost time to start the cataloguing, minus the fifty books I've taken home to read before they get bagged and tagged.

I can remember the days in Austin when any accumulating snow was a rare and special thing, a time when we'd set the alarm clock for 2 a.m. to check if the predicted snowfall had ocurred, accompanied by a quick jaunt outside to take pictures and build a tiny snowman before it melted away by sunrise. Now however, we not only get a yearly snow, but it lasts at least the whole day.

The DOWNS:

The cold weather is preserving the snow for us but trying to keep the kid's hats on their head in the cold is another thing, hence the Ginger Ale, Scooby Doo, and a day home from school with a bucket (Parenting Tip: if there's any chance that your child could be sick, avoid allowing mac and cheese with V-8 and chocolate rice cakes no matter how appetizing it may sound to her...).

Austin in White

2011-02-04T19:26:00.000-06:00

Photo credit to Stanford Moore.

Moon and Venus Over Switzerland

2011-02-02T20:20:00.000-06:00

Credit & Copyright: David Kaplan

From the February Intentions of the Holy Father

2011-01-31T20:41:00.000-06:00

That all may respect the family and recognize its unmatched contribution to the advancement of society.

"It is at home that people truly learn to live, to value life and health, freedom and peace, justice and truth, work, harmony, and respect. Today more than ever the witness and public commitment of all the baptized is necessary to reaffirm the dignity and the unique, irreplaceable value of the family founded on the marriage of a man and a woman open to life, and also of human life in all of its stages."

Indulgences Granted to Corpus Christianum

2011-01-29T01:25:00.001-06:00

27 September 2010

The Apostolic Penitentiary, by special mandate of the Supreme Pontiff, willingly grants a plenary indulgence under the usual conditions (sacramental Confession, Eucharistic Communion and prayer for the Holy Father's intentions) for the benefit of truly repentant members of the Association "Corpus Christianum", provided that they emit or renew, at least in private, the promise of faithfully observing their proper statutes on the 24 of May, the feast of the Blessed Virgin Mary under the title "Help of Christians," that is, the day on which is made the consecration of the members to the Most Holy Mother of God Auxiliatrix.

The same members will additionally be able to enjoy a partial Indulgence whenever, with an at least contrite heart, they give an open witness to the Faith in the presence of others in public religious solemnities or gatherings (such as a procession, pious exercise, sacred preaching of the Word, Eucharistic congress, congress of the Association "Corpus Christianum") in which they participate as members of the same Association.
The present shall be valid for seven years, provided that it is duly shown to the Most Excellent Diocesan Bishop. Anything to the contrary notwithstanding.

+[signed] Fortunato Baldelli
Titular Archbishop of Mevania, Major Penitentiary

+ [signed] Gianfranco Girotti, OFM Conv.
Titular Bishop of Meta, Regent

The Difference Between the Two

2011-01-27T19:08:00.000-06:00

...or, "Spiritual Studies in the Sanctus Christopher Household."

I sat down at my desk the other day and found a piece of paper upon which Cezanne had written: "People feel bad for Jesus, but they don't know what it feels like." As I walked down the hallway deep in thought with the paper in my hand, Cecilia, from the potty, with the door open, yells to me: "Hey daddy! Poopy is a solid, you can break it..."

Now, if I take credit for one, I must invariably do so for the other; and if I deny responsibility for the other, I must also do so for the one. Oh, the conundrums...

Mary Cummins

2011-01-26T13:11:00.000-06:00

While working through another stack of old books today, I found this hand-written in pencil on the title page of an old theology book: Mary Cummins. Dead June 1, 1936. Pray for her. It's a little shocking to the system to happen upon something like that, so blunt; whoever wrote it, meant it. So I stopped what I was doing and prayed for her. Maybe if you've stumbled upon this post, you could do so too. Thanks.

Saturday - Video, Seafarer, and Marian: Things Beautiful

2011-01-22T21:00:00.000-06:00

Some of the most spectacular and soulful music I find posted on the web I find via my Facebook Friend, Sahand Nassehpour:

And some of the most spectacular and beautiful posts on the sea and sailing I find through Craig Russell's H2uhO blog. He says that this is "the most beautiful boat I have seen." I spent time on and around a few mega-yachts and am finding it hard to disagree. It's also a superb educational on how these beasts are built:

100 ft Chrisco from Luca Brenta YD on Vimeo.

And this is from an old postcard I found while "working," a pretty striking shot of a statue at the Holy House of Loreto. The texture is from the postcard:

Memory Lane: The National Cathedral Show

2011-01-20T20:55:00.000-06:00

While ripping out a cabinet yesterday, I came across Cezanne's personal photo album - in which she used to store the blurred and off-center shots taken on disposable cameras that would have otherwide ended up in the trash. I was surprised to find a a few good pictures tucked in there that she must have secreted away from me without getting caught. I haven't seen this one in quite a while, of a show I did at the National Cathedral in Washington DC with probably fifty other artists and crafters.

I remember selling a few pieces, particularly a pectoral cross to someone who kept telling me that he was the "Secretary to the Archbishp of Canterbury" - he seemed very, very proud of it. Unfortunately I didn't sell a chess set, maybe if I had I'd still be sculpting today. Sigh.

Anyway, what's special about the pic to me is that momma here was not quite yet a momma, still about 7 months or so away from Cezanne taking her first breath.

The Oldest One Yet

2011-01-18T13:42:00.000-06:00

The aroma on my hands remains...

Home Alone, Memory Lane, and Random Important Things

2011-01-14T23:41:00.001-06:00

Momma came back on Wednesday from eight days in Florida and we're all glad she's back. Just me and the girls and as the phrase was coined, "it was the best of times; it was the worst of times." I had big plans for the girls and I. That was my first mistake, making plans.

I rarely partake in any adult beverages, almost so rare that I can say that I don't drink. Last year, I believe I had one mixed drink and three beers, spread out over great distances from each other. The year before, I think, it was even less; I don't know what got into me this year. Quite the opposite of my youth of which I could say that "I didn't NOT drink." Looking back, which I do far too often for my own good I suppose, it's pretty startling. I was such a "good" drinker that I could spend 12 hours at the bar, close up with the bartender and then spend another one or two drinking with him or her and then drive everyone home. A few hours later, I'd be at work waiting for the whistle to blow to start it all over again. I was such a "good" drinnker that a lot of people didn't even know that I drank until I mentioned it to them; I believe that is what would in today's clinical parlance be called a "sign." And then one day, shortly after I was married and shortly before Cezanne was born, I just stopped. I suppose that the deteriorating physical condition of my guts had something to do with it but that was it. I just stopped. My father supposedly did the same with cigarettes, just stopped (of course, he moved on to cigars and then a pipe before finally quitting though). And at special occasions, maybe once a year, I'd have a few, but I stopped enjoying it. On the odd chance of meeting up with one of my old sailing buddies I'd actually dread the fact that I was going to have to have a drink with them because alcohol was the great unifying factor in many of my relationships. Those days are all over though, thank God I survived them without too much injury or a record, and now many of my old friends have quit the bottle too, several of them going strong in AA (one decided it was time when he fell two stories through a plate glass ceiling and another even went on to theological post-graduate work and became a pastor, albeit a Lutheran).

I always find it interesting when one finds one's self interesting. I was interested in myself because one of my plans for last week was to sit back after the kids were asleep, put on some Dave Brubeck, and have a nice relaxing glass of Rye. And I think this interesting now because I didn't need momma to go away for me to do this. I could sit down at any time and have a drink if I wished but for some reason I planned to have a drink while she was away. I don't understand why, but I find it interesting. The bottle pictured above has been sitting on top of my fridge for several months, untouched. I'd bought it when a certain Sabres fan visited but I never did open it. The reason that I'd bought it was because of Paul Newman. JTS Brown was the drink of choice for "Fast" Eddie Felson in 1961's the "Hustler" and I've been searching for it ever since I first watched it. (The Hustler had a monumental effect on me when I first saw it at the age of 15 and still does today, though in a different way). At the liquor store near my house, I thought I'd finally found it. So wrapped up was I in finding the brand, that I didn't notice for over a month that it in fact was not Rye. The marking on the label that read "Kentucky Bourbon" was apparently not enough for me... Anyway, I never did have that drink. I did however, subtley returning back to my topic, have plenty of this:

and this:

And despite the great-laid plans of fun, educational, and edifying things to do with the girls which floated away like dry leaves in the December wind, we did manage to get some things accomplished. We did not add another church to our ongoing Daddy/Cecilia pilgrimage as planned but Cezanne did start her guitar lessons...

...and she and her partner (and by "she and her partner" I pretty much mean "I") completed the old stand-by of stand-by's in science projects: the vinegar/baking soda volcano:

And then there's Jack.

Jack, for whom I've created a hundred and one nicknames for already, has found his place now; not just in my home but in my heart too. Momma's absence gave us a bonding that I never expected to happen, because, as I said, I really don't like little yappy dogs. He's now the sole exception. He's still a royal pain, but hey, so am I, so I can't really complain. He's getting healthy. His hair is growing back and he's proabably gained two pounds. So, over the last week he's gotten to know most of the neighbors, their dogs, and some of the local wildife, including the goats they keep at the girl's school (as to why they have goats there I still haven't found a satisfactory answer, but alas, they have goats).

And speaking of things lacking a satisfactory explanation is why so many plants in my yard are blooming while it's 18 degrees outside, especially the Butterfly Weed and the Alligator plants:

But amidst all the momma-missing, the music-making, the temper-tantrums and time-outs, the house-cleaning, the dog-walking and the myriad of things we did to keep busy, something else also providentially came up. If you read my post on relics, you'll remember the great joy and suffering I experienced while restoring and organizing the vast collection that a friend of mine inherited when his father passed. Well, it's now gotten even better, or worse, depending on how you look at it. In addition to the relics, my friend also inherited his father's library. And like the relics, the books (and artwork) have been sitting in boxes for several years, unorganized and unaccounted. I ran into him after Mass last week and I off-handedly asked him if he needed any help around his warehouse (he runs a book distribution company) as we've got some recent extra medical bills that need paying-off. He said, "As a matter of fact..."

Five tons is a fair estimate of the weight of the books that filled a section of the warehouse from floor to ceiling. How many? Eight thousand? Ten? I won't know for a while I think. Half of the books have been unpacked but were unfortunately shelved without any real organization. After a few hours in there I was breathless and with a great sense of being utterly and completely overwhelmed at the task ahead. He'd had an "intern" doing a bit of cataloguing for a little while but it had been done without any sense of direction or purpose. What's already done will have to be undone. It's an important library. My friend's father was a fairly well-known man in certain circles, among several prominent other things, a thoracic surgeon and a psychotherapist. And if you are in one of those circles, you'll know who he was by the time you finish reading this(please, no comments now if so, as it's not my business to make anything public until the library is "opened" to scholars and researchers). Back in those fervent days post-Vatican II, when monasteries were shutting down, churches were ripping out communion rails and confessionals, and seminaries were "updating" their curriculums, my friend's father was traveling around rescuing all things Catholic. This is where probably a quarter of the books came from - dumpsters. 200 year old 30 volume sets of theological texts; stacks of ancient Missale Romanums, Divine Offices, breviaries, books of hours, etc. Dumpsters. Another quarter of the books came from his grandfather's library and I'm assuming those are probably the most valuable. His grandfather was particularly famous worldwide and still is today and was connected with some of the more prominent figures of the early 20th century. The remaining half of the library was simply the personal lifetime collection of the man.

I can't even begin to describe what it feels like in there with all of these books. I keep thinking of how casually I walk through a chain bookstore with all of the aisles of junk until I find something good, something worthwhile. These, these are all important books. Books that mean things. Billions of words. The smell is exactly like those relics smelled when I opened them up; they must have been kept in the same room. I opened up this History of Ireland from the early 1800's I think, at least seven inches thick (seven!), and I stopped and just breathed over it for several minutes.

Most of the books date from the late 1800's and the early 1900's; lots of Latin, lots of French, Farsi, Hindi, Japanese, Chinese, first editions, signed copies, etc. Inside many of the books are little bonuses too, lots of little bookmarks, coupons, grocery lists and the like, but also an occasional treasure. I found a letter folded into one with a letter written in 1936 by Eric Gill (besides his notorious behavior if you don't know him, a rather important figure in distributism, art, and the guild-movement of early 20th century England) with his signature attached. The oldest one I've found in the nine hours I've spent there so far has been this one from 1781. The quality of the paper is beyond description, I feel like I'm sinning by soiling it with my filthy ignorant hands. Many of the older books however, are in less than perfect condition and I'm going to need some advice from experts in both artifact-conservation and in library science before too long. I can't take advantage of being the kid in the candy store forever...

More to come as the mysteries in the boxes reveal themselves...

Sauron, the Idiot

2011-01-11T16:26:00.000-06:00

I love this guy's posts, often getting my laugh of the day from him.

Today, as a sidenote while reviewing another book, he asks the question: Does anyone wonder what would have happened had Sauron conquered Middle Earth?

Click here to read his pondering.

1001 Churches

2011-01-09T10:15:00.001-06:00

Kuriositas has a feast for the eyes today, a collection of stunning pictures as well as a short history of of Ani, a "ghost town" on the border of Turkey and Armenia. (Many more photo with their credits at the site.) Absolutely unbelievable.

The New Year Thank You

2011-01-01T04:51:00.000-06:00

...to everyone. Thank you for the support and the kind comments left at Sanctus Christopher, for your sincere interest in my family, for the prayers offered, for the personal visits, the surprise phone calls (Magic Jack even!), for the gifts sent, for the Christmas cards received (I'm sorry I didn't send out a single one this year), and for the countless hours of great and inspiring blogging that so many of you provide though I wish some of you would blog still even more than you do.

Looking over the stats for this past year, the top referring site award goes to the "Darwins," if that is their real name, followed by Ma'am at Shredded Cheddar, and then by a surprise referrer - Christopher Blosser at Against the Grain, solely for my post on relics. Thanks especially to you all (and a standing ovation to the impossible soul in India who googled up Saint Wizzie a few weeks ago too...)

God bless you all and have a happy, happy, happy new year.

Video Saturday: Dum pater familias, chant de pèlerins

2011-01-01T03:43:00.000-06:00

I spent New Year's Eve in Spain this year, if only in my mind, with music from 12th and 13th century pilgrimages to Santiago de Compostela...

From the January Intentions of the Holy Father

2011-01-01T02:30:00.000-06:00

Unity of Christians. That Christians may attain full unity, witnessing to all the universal fatherhood of God.

This month Pope Benedict asks us to join him in praying for harmony in the Christian family. Jesus taught us the prayer that all Christians have in common - the Our Father. We begin that beautiful prayer by calling upon our Father, and we end it by forgiving one another as our Father has forgiven each of us.

The lack of Christian unity contradicts our witness to the Gospel of Jesus Christ. Jesus himself prayed that we would all be one so the world will know that we have a common Father (John 17:21). Last Holy Thursday, Pope Benedict pointed out that "Twice the Lord says that this unity should make the world believe in the mission of Jesus...a unity which so transcends ordinary human possibilities as to become a sign."

The Completed Icon of Saint Wizzy

2010-12-28T19:16:00.000-06:00

Image courtesy of private collector, on loan from the Cecilia/Cezanne wing of the Museum of Imaginary Tales.

Pro Christo et Ecclesia

2010-12-26T06:22:00.000-06:00

Corpus Christianum is a Private Association of the Faithful to which I pledged myself several years ago when there were just a few of us and I've had a link to the website on my sidebar since I began this blog. I agreed to be a temporary regional Chancellor until a more qualified person could be found. It's now grown to one hundred members across Canada, Germany, New Zealand, Nigeria, the Philippines, Sweden, Uganda, the United Kingdom, and the United States. The Association's Statutes have been reviewed and a nihil obstat was granted by His Excellency, Bishop Fabian Bruskewitz of the Diocese of Lincoln, Nebraska on August 2, 2010. It's now in the process of requesting Pontifical approval through the Vatican's Pontifical Council for the Laity.

"When one truly understands that Christendom is relentlessly being assaulted on many different fronts (i.e. against the Church and her ministers, against the family, against Christians living in modern society or in non-Christian lands, etc.), one quickly recognizes the great spiritual battle that is before us every day.

And so, by using the very efficacious weapons of prayer - the Most Holy Rosary, the Litany of Loreto, the Little Office of the Blessed Virgin Mary, etc. - one endeavors to take on the same noble challenges faced by the Catholic knights of old, namely to "fight" for Christendom each and every day. A truly courageous soul is one that clings to Christ the King and the Blessed Virgin Mary, in all circumstances, and that prays faithfully every day - even through times of spiritual dryness - in order to prosper quietly and oftentimes unrecognized, the work of renewing Christendom. Such souls march tirelessly under the banners of Christ and His Mother."

The aim of the Association could not be more noble in virtue or more faithful to the wishes of the Holy Father. As the new year begins, I urge each of you to visit the website and look over the Frequently Asked Questions and the Statutes and consider committing yourself to praying and working for the renewal of Christendom through membership.

The Spirit of Christmas

2010-12-25T04:19:00.000-06:00

This is Jack. It appears we're keeping him. At least that's what my wife and kids say (so the bill has been passed into law and the concerned agencies are busily rewriting their policies to fit the administration's latest wishes). Jack's "given" name was Sparky but he doesn't answer to it so we thought we might as well give him a name somewhat of our choosing.

It all started once upon a time, two days ago to be exact, when the girls said, "Daddy, can we go play in the front yard for a while?" Not three minutes later, I hear the back door opening and closing several times. Irritatedly prying myself away from the stupid computer game I've been wasting all of my time on, I went to inspect. There they were, filling bowls with water and food and encouraging a scrawny little rat terrier to eat. Apparently they "found" him walking up the street as soon they went outside and coaxed him into the fenced back yard.

Anyway, Jack (although still Sparky at the time) was in none too good a shape. He was so flea-bitten (and Lord knows what else yet) that his tail was swollen to twice the size of the tiny stub it's supposed to be. His ribs were showing, though not too bad, and his nails were so long uncut that they were beginning to curl sideways and under his feet. Welts on his rump were the size and appearance of warts. But he was very, very sweet. "Girls... don't touch him. Inside, wash your hands..."

So... momma arrives home at the same time. "We can't keep him," I say. "I know," she says. We wrap him in a blanket, lay him in the back of the car and momma and Cezanne take him off to the vet around the corner to see if he's got a microchip in him. Cecilia cried but I thought to myself "and that is that."

Of course, "that" wasn't "that." He did have a chip with the owner's info but there was no answer when they called. So momma gets the address, only a mile or so from our house, and drives over there. Jack seems to immediately recognize his home and gets obviously excited. Momma leaves him in the car while she makes sure that the owner is actually there. Eliminating from the story the strange and scandalous aspects of the encounter between my wife and the lady, we fast-forward ten minutes here to the part where she closes the door, having rejected the poor little dog (as well as his companion, a pomeranian, that is on the loose somewhere too). Within the hour, Jack is back at our house, in my wife's office segregated from Brandy and the girls.

Belts have gotten a little tight at the Sanctus Christopher household this year and if the decimal point in our bank balance had the zeros to the right of it rather than the left we probably wouldn't have had much hesitation in getting Jack the treatment he obviously and most likely not-so-obviously needs also. "We can't keep him," I say. "I know," my wife says. Meanwhile, he was given a bath and some flea drops but it still looked like a one-way trip to the pound the next morning.

But the spirit of Christmas in Austin wasn't to be stifled so easily. After a few postings on the neighborhood listserv and on my wife's Facebook page, Jack's luck unexpectedly turned. Several people pledged money towards his vet bills if we kept him, four hundred dollars so far, someone donated a crate for him, one gave a gift card to Petco with a hundred dollars on it, and one woman came by this morning and trimmed his nails. Come Monday, the vet will at least start to test him for whatever nastiness and beasties he may or may not be infested with. I spoke to a few people around the country and they said, "Wow, that would never happen where I live..." God bless Austin, still animated by the spirit of Christmas at least.

(As a sidenote, let me say I'm not a "fan" of little dogs. Yappy and snappy and they break if you sit on them. But Jack is pretty darn sweet, and quiet. And there doesn't appear to be any animosity between he and Brandy or any argument over who's in charge, as was becoming the case when we had to say goodbye to Bear. Nevertheless, my dream of owning a Rhodesian Ridgeback when Brandy someday goes will not be denied. "I'm still getting a Ridgeback," I said to momma. "I know," she said. We'll see who's controlling the majority in the house when that bill comes up for passage though...)

My Advent reading has been a bit "unorthodox" this year to say the least, picking books off the shelves that I've been carrying around for years and reading them again as if for the first time. Presently I'm getting hogsheads of enjoyment from Thomas Hardy's "Tess of the D'Urbervilles" and I thought I'd relay a little tale from it as it also relates to animals and Christmas Eve, and... fiddles. (And if you know anything about Texas, you know that besides, cows, footballs, guns, tall tales and even taller hats, nothing says Texas like a good fiddle. But this is England...)

...'Oh, yes; there's nothing like a fiddle', said the dairyman. 'Though I do think that bulls are more moved by a tune than cows - at least that's my experience. Once there was an old aged man over at Mellstock - William Dewy by name... Well this man was a coming home-along from a wedding where he had been playing his fiddle, one fine moonlight night, and for shortness' sake he took a cut across Forty acres, a field lying that way, where a bull was out to grass. The bull seed William, and took after him, horns aground, begad; and though William runned his best, and hadn't much drink in him (considering t'was a wedding, and the folks well off), he found he'd never reach the fence and get over in time to save himself. Well, as a last thought, he pulled out his fiddle as he runned, and struck up a jig, turning to the bull, and backing towards the corner. The bull softened down, and stood still, looking hard at William Dewy, who fiddled on and on; till a sort of smile stole over the bull's face... When he had scraped till about four o'clock he felt that he verily would have to give over soon, and he said to himself, "There's only this last tune between me and eternal welfare! Heaven save me, or I'm a done man." Well, then he called to mind how he'd seen the cattle kneel o' Christmas Eves in the dead o' night. It was not Christmas Eve then, but it came into his head to play a trick upon the bull. So he broke into the 'Tivity Hymn, just as at Christmas carol-singing; when, lo and behold, down went the bull on his bended knees, in his ignorance, just as if 'twere the true 'Tivity night and hour. As soon as his horned friend were down, William turned, clinked off like a long-dog, and jumped safe over hedge, before the praying bull had got on his feet again to take after him. William used to say that he'd seen a man look a fool a good many times, but never such a fool as that bull looked when he found his pious feelings had been played upon, and 'twas not Christmas Eve... It's a curious story; it carries us back to medieval times, when faith was a living thing.'

And finally, a very merry Christmas to all of you who've stuck around to the end of this post!

Parvulus enim natus est nobis. Filius datus est nobis.

Further Developments on the Legend of Saint Wizzy...

2010-12-19T03:08:00.000-06:00

Too. Funny. Whenever I check through my blog stats, I usually just speed through them to see how people are arriving here. Last week, one particular keyword search had me laughing out loud. From Google India came a search for "Saint Wizzie." I wonder if they found what they were looking for. For those who aren't familiar with the backstory to our "Saint Wizzy," guardian of the green beans, here's the original Saint Wizzie post to catch up.

Since then, the girls occasionally bring Wizzy up at bedtime and we've added more and more to her story. It's been established now that Wizzy was born in Hungary around 1654, the youngest of sixteen children. Each of the children in her family had roles to assist the family, one was a woodcutter, one a baker, etc. Wizzy's job was to tend the small family garden. In 1666, upon hearing the news of the Great Fire of London, Wizzy started gathering green beans from her small plot to send to the hungry displaced children in England. To her surprise, the supply of beans proved to be inexhaustable and she filled crate after crate and wagonload after wagonload of green beans bound for the children of England.

So one night last week we were imagining what Wizzy would have looked like and came up with even the smallest details of her appearance and manners. The next day, the girls started collaberating on a drawing of her and have been busily working together drawing and coloring a picture of her. The above picture is the progress so far and yes, that's a halo of green beans above her. It's taken on a real iconic nature. More to come when it's finished!

Meanwhile, I picked up Cezanne's Christmas present yesterday. She's been begging me for years for one and I think she's ready. I'm probably more excited about it than she will be as I see in her such a latent talent that is just exploding to get out and bloom. A pretty skilled musician-neighbor will giving her lessons every week. I've got so much hope that this might be the spark for her (plus I plan on doing some learning myself!)

To Understand the Mass

2010-12-13T02:56:00.000-06:00

From the Introduction to the 1961 Fulton J. Sheen Sunday Missal:

...Calvary was one small place on the earth, a by-way of Jerusalem, Athens, and Rome. But what took place there, the sacrifice of the God-Man, can affect men everywhere in all corners of the earth. The Mass plants the Cross in a town, in a village, in a mission, in a great cathedral; it draws back the curtains on time and space and makes what happened on Calvary happen here. The Cross affected all past history by anticipation; all the sacrifices of bullocks, and goats, and sheep, and particularly the sacrifice of the paschal lamb, found their completion in the Cross. The Cross affected also the future, by flowing out through all time, like a mighty waterfall or cascade, upon all the valleys and plains of the humble and the great.

The Sacrifice of the Cross, therefore, is not something that happened more than nineteen hundred years ago, it is something that is still happening. It is not an heirloom or an antique which endures into the present; it is a drama as actual now as then, and so it will remain as long as time and eternity endure.

On the Cross, our blessed Lord knew how every individual soul in the world would react to His supreme act of love; He knew whether or not we would accept Him or reject Him. But no one of us knows how we will react until we are confronted with Christ and His Cross, and see it unrolled on the screen of time. From our point of view, it takes time to see the drama of the eternal unfold. But the Mass gives us an intimation; we were not conscious of being present on Calvary on Good Friday, but we are consciously present at the Mass. We can know something of the role we played at Calvary by the way we act at Mass in the twentieth century, and by the way the Mass helps us to live.

In every Mass, therefore, the Cross of Calvary is transplanted into New York, London, Tokyo, Nairobi, Hong Kong: all humanity is taking sides, either sharing in that Redemption or else rejecting it, either being on the Cross with the Victim or beneath it among the executioners.

Happy Birthday to my Wife ;)

2010-12-12T02:00:00.000-06:00

The song she was named after (no, her name's not Olé):

Our Lady Surrounded by Miracles

2010-12-12T01:34:00.000-06:00

There's nothing I can add to the splendor that is Our Lady of Guadalupe which isn't on every Catholic website already so I'm reposting this from last year.

From a CNA article detailing a speech given by researcher and physicist Dr. Aldofo Orozco on the miraculous image of Our Lady of Guadalupe:

"... The second miracle was the explosion of a bomb near the Tilma in 1921. Dr. Orozco recalled that the explosion broke the marble floor and widows 150 meters from the explosion, but “unexpectedly, neither the Tilma nor the normal glass that protected the Tilma was damaged or broken.” The only damage near it was a brass crucifix that was twisted by the blast.

He continued, “There are no explanations why the shockwave that broke windows 150 meters afar did not destroy the normal glass that protected the image. Some people said that the Son by means of the brass crucifix protected the image of His Mother. The real fact is that we don’t have a natural explanation for this event ..."

Speaking of Wishes...

2010-12-11T04:50:00.000-06:00

... I wish I had this chair in my living room.

Time for "52 Pick-Up"

2010-12-10T16:58:00.002-06:00

Welcome Michael, thanks for the "follow" and giving us a full deck to play with here!

December 8, Doubly Good

2010-12-08T07:59:00.000-06:00

Prayer of Pope Pius XII In Honor of the Immaculate Conception on the 100th anniversary of Pope Pius IX's promulgation of the dogma of the Immaculate Conception

Enraptured by the splendor of your heavenly beauty, and impelled by the anxieties of the world, we cast ourselves into your arms, O Immaculate Mother of Jesus and our Mother, Mary, confident of finding in your most loving heart appeasement of our ardent desires, and a safe harbor from the tempests which beset us on every side.

Though degraded by our faults and overwhelmed by infinite misery, we admire and praise the peerless richness of sublime gifts with which God has filled you, above every other mere creature, from the first moment of your conception until the day on which, after your assumption into heaven, He crowned you Queen of the Universe.

O crystal fountain of faith, bathe our minds with the eternal truths! O fragrant Lily of all holiness, captivate our hearts with your heavenly perfume! O Conqueress of evil and death, inspire in us a deep horror of sin, which makes the soul detestable to God and a slave of hell!

O well-beloved of God, hear the ardent cry which rises up from every heart. Bend tenderly over our aching wounds. Convert the wicked, dry the tears of the afflicted and oppressed, comfort the poor and humble, quench hatreds, sweeten harshness, safeguard the flower of purity in youth, protect the holy Church, make all men feel the attraction of Christian goodness. In your name, resounding harmoniously in heaven, may they recognize that they are brothers, and that the nations are members of one family, upon which may there shine forth the sun of a universal and sincere peace.

Receive, O most sweet Mother, our humble supplications, and above all obtain for us that, one day, happy with you, we may repeat before your throne that hymn which today is sung on earth around your altars: You are all-beautiful, O Mary! You are the glory, you are the joy, you are the honor of our people! Amen.

And today is also the anniversary of the death of the Servant of God, Father Walter Ciszek, seen below with his sister, Mrs. Helen Gearhart and another sister, Sister Evangeline as he returns to America after 24 years as a "guest" of the Soviet Union.

What does the World's Most Expensive Book Contain but...

2010-12-07T14:52:00.000-06:00

... flamingos. Of course.

Audubon `Birds of America' sells for $10.3 million

Seven Scenes from the Life and Veneration of Saint Dymphna

2010-12-06T02:58:00.000-06:00

A gallery assistant for Sotheby's auction house admires 'Seven Scenes from the Life and Veneration of Saint Dymphna' by Goswijn van der Weyden which is expected to fetch up to 1.5 million GBP in London, England. Sotheby's sale of 'Old Master & British Paintings' takes place in London on December 8, 2010 and a sale of Old Master works in New York will take place on January 26-27, 2011. The auctions feature works from George Stubbs, Titian, Rembrandt and Rubens. (Photo by Oli Scarff/Getty Images)

A Warm Welcome!

2010-12-01T17:08:00.000-06:00

... to the Conscientious Catholic and thanks! Hmm, another "follower" and we can all play Rummy!

Self Portrait with Flamingo I

2010-12-01T13:53:00.000-06:00

December Intentions of the Holy Father

2010-11-30T21:13:00.000-06:00

That our experience of suffering may help us better understand the pain of the many people who are alone, sick, or aged, and stir us to generous help.

Today in our world suffering is often presented as something so evil that even death is preferable. Yet in this month's general prayer intention and in other writings, Pope Benedict XVI affirms that suffering has supreme value in our lives - that only by suffering can we learn to love others.

"Suffering is the inner side of love," says the Pope. "It is important to learn how to suffer...the avoidance of suffering renders someone unfit to cope with life" (Pope Benedict, God and the World, Ignatius Press, 2002) ...

Another Beginning

2010-11-28T02:51:00.002-06:00

Another fresh start. Like Confession before the Mass. A sacrament. Advent is gradually becoming my favorite time of the year. The first three mysteries of the Rosary have always been my favorite too. Different. A time of hope. A quiet, patient time that grows warmer and wamer every day as we draw closer to the most unique moment in history. When creation held its collective breath until in that golden silence the cry of a newborn babe broke the air and the world exhaled and the angels burst forth in song. Advent. Both the calm before the storm and the thaw before the spring.

I start my new year now to concide with the anticipation of the Church. Today is New Year's Day with new resolutions and hopes and intentions. And today, new patron saints for the family to help us find our way until the next beginning. Thank you to my friend who helped the saints choose us this past year and thank you to the friend who helped the saints choose us for this new year. As usual, they seem to be providentially fitting for us:

Saint Edith Stein.

Saint Anne, Mother of Mary.

Saint Bernadette.

And with this new liturgical year, I renew my imperturbable support for our Holy Father, Pope Benedict XVI, and dedicate my prayers and intentions for him as he guides the Bride of Christ through the valley of the shadow of death. May God bless and protect him always.

Welcome, and Thanks

2010-11-27T20:23:00.000-06:00

...to Mikaela. With the exception of 3 and 9, I hate odd numbers, thanks for evening out the "followers" number here! :)

Family Portraits

2010-11-23T21:23:00.000-06:00

Viruses and vomiting have been keeping both the girls out of school on and off for a few weeks, so between washing sheets and emptying buckets and renting movies and trying to keep up with homework, we've been doing a lot of artwork to keep busy too. I did an oil pastel self-portrait of myself (for the first time in years) that turned out looking more like Billy Crystal's character from Princess Bride than me. Cezanne loved it so it's propped up on her closet shelf. I'm far too embarassed to show it here but if you ever stop by you can laugh at it in person. Below are some of the better ones from this week.

Cezanne self-portrait with moon.

Cecilia portrait of Momma.

Beginning of self-portrait with flamingos as suggested by a friend. I'll probably stick to pencil on this one and incorporate the flamingos into a nimbus; I've never painted myself as a saint before..

'The Rite' Trailer

2010-11-22T03:40:00.000-06:00

I read the book a few months ago and never even considered they'd make a movie out of it. Of course they seem to have twisted the whole plot of the book but I'm a sucker for anything "exorcist-ish" and the Anthony Hopkins element only has me more anxious for its January release. Don't watch if you're easily disturbed!

Welcome Tina!

2010-11-21T20:37:00.000-06:00

Thanks for the "follow," was it the pirate post that hooked you? LOL

Seafarer's Saturday: Pirates!

2010-11-20T06:04:00.000-06:00

Like most 9 year olds, my daughter is fascinated by pirates. I was when I was nine. Fascinated by their daring and their cleverness and ingenuity. At their ability to buck authority and live life on their own terms. Like the cowboys of the Old West, they had their own code. They had dash and a sort of gallantry, like knights. After all, the ships they raided were all filled with gold mined by slaves and destined for the big vaults of tyranical foreign kings anyway, right? Robin Hoods. And they all had fantastic and nusical names like Blue Beard and Calico Jack and Jean Lafitte. It was all reinforced by the movies I watched and the books I read. That image lasted until I started working on boats in the South China Sea.

Even then, after I'd learned the reality of the brutality and ruthlessness of piracy, there was still an element of humor to be found in it. I remember, while in the Coast Guard, responding to an emergency flare in the dark of night only to have the "boat in peril" gun it's giant outboards and speed off after seeing the big red,white, and blue stripe on the side of our ship. I remember another time when running patrol under darkened ship the radio crackling to life with a heavily-accented voice: "Cooooooast Gaaaaaud... we seeeeee you..." And the poor old man who spent six years and his life savings to build his own little sailboat. On his maiden voyage, a group of machine-gun-toting men boarded his sloop. After digging around for a few minutes, they realized that not only was the boat full of holes but there was no money and no food, just a skinny old Aussie. They gave him two bags of rice and wished him well.

Sardonic humor and irony aside, piracy is still a dangerous fact of life at sea. It's always been with us and always will. The hot-spots move around the globe, depending upon current trade routes and corruptable governments. The South China Sea has been replaced by the Horn of Africa as the current treasure bucket but it's still everywhere. The U.S. Navy SEALS and Russian Special Forces dominated the headlines for a few months this year in their fights against Somali pirates but the battle often takes a different form in other places. I found the article below about an unlikely man who fights back by pirating the pirates. I can't wait until they make the movie about him.

Max Hardberger: Repo man of the seas

...With most people, the longer you spend talking to them, the more normal they appear. With Hardberger, the reverse applies. Just when you think you've heard it all, he comes up with something wilder. He could just as easily have made a career in academia. He's got an English degree from the University of New Orleans, an MA in poetry and fiction from the Writers' Workshop at the University of Iowa (one of the best creative-writing programmes in the US), has a law degree from the University of Northern California, and has taught English and history at high school...

...He eventually settled on a career at sea in his late 30s. "Like most kids from New Orleans, I'd been messing about in boats since I was 15, getting work on the oil-rig supply boats to pay my way through college," he says. "And while I was at a loose end, I kept noticing cargo freighters being sold at super-cheap prices; so I thought I might get one. Within a couple of days I was a captain . . . "

For a long while he made a living by plying a junk route between Miami and Haiti, transporting buckets, bicycles and cooking oil, until one day someone tried to steal his boat. It was a defining moment. Hardberger made his choice, and has gone on to carve out one of the more unusual careers on offer, and is still going strong at 62. But for how long? "Who knows?" he says, though he's in no mood to quit any time soon. And what next? "There's talk of a Hollywood movie and a videogame of my life..."

Continue reading the whole thrilling story of his life here.

I Just Noticed

2010-11-19T02:15:00.000-06:00

... it's been two years of Sanctus Christopher, although it seems like a lot longer. What started out as just a photo-blog of the little pilgrimage that Cecilia and I are still smack in the middle of, has turned into a pretty broad spectrum of all things Catholic (and flamingo). The picture to the left is the very first one I posted here.

The most enjoyable part of it all has been you. I didn't think it was possible to make real firends via a virtual medium like the net, but I have. Some of us just know each other through the comment boxes, others through correspondence not just through engaging emails but through shared letters and gifts too. And several of you, I've even got the true pleasure of meeting in person. Thank you to everyone here, new and old, who's helped me make Sanctus Christopher a friendly place for everyone. I pray for each and every one of you.

What's Black and White ...

2010-11-13T02:44:00.000-06:00

... and the newest headache at work?

Welcome Richard!

2010-11-06T21:37:00.000-05:00

...from Linen on the Hedgerow, thanks for signing on. And that's a beautiful image of the bomb-damaged face of the Virgin you posted, I hadn't seen that one before.