Hurricane Katrina

Hello from Florida and Mr. Casserole. St. Casserole is fine, sitting in a condo in Florida, and trying to reach friends and family in Mississippi on the phone. I, the husband, found a Wifi coffee house and called St.C, who wanted me to post note. Being somewhat unfamiliar with her blogging format, bear with me as I give the run-down. As an old hurricane hand , I was not frightened about the storm until it took the Camille turn, and ran up the 89th due North toward us. We packed, took some important personal possessions (never enough and never enough room) and headed to a friend's condo, who wanted to stay behind. The drive took 8 hours for what normally would be a three hour drive. 8 hours feels like 20 when there is mewing, moaning and groaning in the back... and, besides the kids, the cats were unhappy. We are all safe. On the other hand, we have little cell phone service with our area. We know our house is safe, though all the trees are down. We understand there is no water inside and a friend opened up the house and removed all the food. My office, just recently built, is gone. There are old concrete tabby steps and nothing more. We have rented a Uhaul, bought as many ice chests as we can, gotten lots of gas cans and water containers, and are intending to leave St. C and daughter here and take food, ice, water, gas and food home to friends, family and needy. I will pack up as soon as we can get home.

Right now, the roads are impassable. No power. Trees down. News is that my office area is flattened along with the tons of stuff that was meaningful to me as regards my career, my family history, and loving family here. Replacable in other ways. Not really important since we are all alive and well. But, sadly missed. Things are icons for one's sadness. Here is a wierd one: my shed is standing. this is a joke among my friends and family. I have been meaning to tear the shed down for years and just have not gotten around to it. It is an old corrugatged plastic greenhouse looking thing and is about 12 x 35. It is literally held together by muddauber spit and beetle dung. It survived 145 mile an hour winds when my building, expertly crafted by my beswt friend, a contractor, cannot be found. No phyme, no reason. Like why some people live and others don't; why some houses get nailed by trees and others are unscathed. No way to wrap one's mind around the whys and wherefores. We find out about friends in odd ways. Daughter is expert text messager and son has cell friends away from area. They seem to be able to send messages to people who send messages and get notes back. We hope all friends are safe. We know that some lost houses, businesses, places they loved. We know friends at churches who no longer have church buildings. We know food and water will be needed in days. We are nervous about staying here and unsure how to get back. We see friends interviewed on tv and they are shell shocked. Anyway, nothing to do but make lists, buy everything in sight that might help, and wait for the roads to clear. St. C will write when she has time I am sure. Mr. Casserole, from our evacuation spot in Florida.

Soggy Bloggy Update

Still here. With all the property and home stuff to board up, the work continues. I've packed up the family's clothing, meds, cat food, ice chest and walked around photographing the interior of the house along with pictures of the insides of closets, armoires and sideboards. The house is such a wreck that the pictures are a good history of what it is like to evacuate. The LH is exhausted. The LS has returned from his weekend away, helped us then ran to help a friend's parent's as they boarded up. Drills, electric saws and whining is the sound of the Pine Grove neighborhood today.

I'm ok as long as I don't watch the weather channel, the news from New Orleans or listen to the radio. The Apocalypse is planned for us tonight and tomorrow. Water, trees down, too much wind. Our good neighbors are planning to stay at home. I don't understand it. I suppose many of our neighbors will stay home as the motels for hundreds of miles are full, the shelters don't take pets and people feel that they can "sit out" the storm.

As for me and my people, we will flee slowly on clogged roads toward the East.

Thank you for your prayers for us and all those affected by the storm. The emergency people have a tough job. The Entergy trucks are poised to come help us restore power (when it goes tonight) and the FEMA, Insurance Adjusters and Red Cross better be taking naps RIGHT NOW because when Katrina hits, they won't rest for days.

Again, Grace and Peace,
St. Casserole (God knows my name so however you pray for me and mine is fine.)

Potential Soggy Blog Here

Reports are coming in about Katrina as a category 5. A five is almost unimaginable in destructive power. I've moved from upset to frightened to terrified.

We plan to evacuate. Those of you who know me will know how to reach me. For the rest of you: pray for us and all those in the path of the storm.

I'm not sure we can be safe staying in our boarded up house if 100 plus mph winds come. We have only a small area without windows so the four of us and three kitties would be together with no air, no room to sleep, etc.

I do not know what the homeless are doing. I know that getting to a shelter on foot or by public transport will be very difficult. I do not know what the elderly without family are doing. I suppose pregnant women have evacuated already as the lowered pressure causes the onset of labor.

Lord, Lord, Lord....

When I can join you again, I will.
Grace and Peace,
St. Casserole

From the NOAA Site

AT 10 PM CDT...0300Z...A HURRICANE WARNING HAS BEEN ISSUED FOR THENORTH CENTRAL GULF COAST FROM MORGAN CITY LOUISIANA EASTWARD TO THEALABAMA/FLORIDA BORDER...INCLUDING THE CITY OF NEW ORLEANS AND LAKEPONTCHARTRAIN. A HURRICANE WARNING MEANS THAT HURRICANE CONDITIONSARE EXPECTED WITHIN THE WARNING AREA WITHIN THE NEXT 24 HOURS.PREPARATIONS TO PROTECT LIFE AND PROPERTY SHOULD BE RUSHED TOCOMPLETION. (italics mine)

I've made the Grace Solidarity Chocolate Cake for the hurricane preparation and will make a second cake tomorrow. Tons of dirty clothes are clean, folded and put away. I think it's silly to clean up the house before a hurricane but at least if we are blown away, the fragments will be fresh.

Oh, yes. Gallows humor begins.

I'm doing ok. Church as been cancelled tomorrow to keep me off the roads. New Orleans is under an evacuation order so the roads are clogged with fleeing people. I might be able to get to church in the morning but quite possibly have a hard time getting back home. And, if we decide to evacuate, I'll need to be here organizing and hollaring.

I bought groceries today to keep us snacking. I buy junk food for hurricanes that we do not eat at other times. I consider Oreos a must. I bought two bags.

I bought bleach which I haven't had to do in two years. A one gallon bottle lasts a very long time.

Flashlight batteries? Check! Candles? Check! Cars gassed up? Check! Cash on hand because ATMs don't work without electricity? Check! Cat food? Check? Cat Carriers clean and ready? Check!

Please excuse me while I cuss over having a Sunday off from preaching but am too tired to watch SNL or read my new book. (Sputter! Rats! CrabApples! HotBeans!)

St. C

Prayer During a Hurricane Watch

O Lord, Thou knowest that when thy servant, Jim Cantore of the Weather Channel, appears in one's general geographic area that one is in great travail. We have seen Jim Cantore on the television and web site and tremble before You. You who are able to speak in the great wind or still small voice, send Jim Cantore farther East by several hundred miles or West by several hundred miles, we pray You. Amen.

Sometime today the National Weather Service will tell us if we need to put the boards back on the windows and doors. Oh, yes! We might be preparing for another St. Casserole Weather Upset and Babble! Hardly recovered from the Dennis scare and now we may have to cope with my outbursts....

One thing for sure: I'll be going to the grocery store to get supplies for Grace's Chocolate Cake.
One other thing for sure: I'll be hoping you are praying for all of us. I'm praying for south Florida. I read that Key West had tropical force winds for over 24 hours. Talk about misery!

Walking by faith, not sight,
St. C

Friday Rant Day

Welcome to Rant Day. Heave the rant into the comments section. Rants will be double-bagged then treated, according to EPA guidelines, for your future protection. All at no charge!

Opening Rant: Why didn't we take the War money and use it to develop alternate fuel sources? Think how much money we'd have for research and development. We'd be less dependent on oil by now. But nooooooooooo......

Your turn....

Let us remember in our prayers our sisters and brothers taking the ordination exams today in the PC (USA) and all seminarians.

I'm praying for the South Florida people with the dumb ol' hurricane coming at them. Yuk!
I wish hurricanes would spin in the middle of the Atlantic without harming people or fish.

Can't believe it's Thursday evening. My week's flown by again.

We had dinner tonight, as we do each Thursday, with a group of friends. We meet at a neighborhood restaurant, bring children, whatever. If you can come, you come. If not this week, then next week. Very free-wheeling and pleasant to see our friends over good food every week. Our ages range from 70-something to 3 years old. Our children bring friends to join us which adds to the mix. If you're in town, drop by.

The conversation tonight was about ROTC which one of the children's pals does. I listened with one ear as the conversation at my end of the table was about raising teens. The three year old wanted to discuss toenail polish, especially mine (OPI light pink, very cute, can't remember the color).

I looked at the ROTC teen thinking that he is doing well in school, greatful for the comradeship of ROTC and excited about a college scholarship he'll receive. And, I see him and worry about him being grenade fodder. Can't help but worry that the War will continue until all my son's pals are drafted into this Iraq misery. It's noble that the kid at dinner does ROTC so he can get college money; it's ignoble that he is risking his life to achieve an education. I understand that he may be officer material and more safe than our other under-priviledged young men in the military but all of it upsets me.

At my end of the table we discussed the wild things kids do and how most of them can't keep quiet about their mis-deeds and the news gets back to us. Rather charming that they have the will and the way to get into trouble but not the discipline to keep it to themselves. Not that I want any additional sneaky teens. Or, parents go along merrily unaware of what their kids are doing then hear about it when the kids become adults. I recall hearing my LLS discuss some of her high school pranks with my mother. My mother didn't seem upset but I was very upset that my LLS got away with stuff I never even attempted.

Ya Know What I Mean?
St. C

Rachel Henderlite (1905-1991) A Prayer of Confession

We come to Thee, O Christ, confessing to Thee the fears that twist our lives and keep us from the inner calm and peace that come from Thee:
The fear of ourselves, that we cannot do what is expected of us;
The fear of being found out for our littleness and pride in ourselves;
The fear of being left out when joy and richness come to others;
The fear of not being ready when opportunities present themselves for service;
The fear of death, that when it comes our time to die, we shall not have done the things we would have done, because we were afraid to venture out.
We find ourselves shrinking back before the unknown, wanting assurance where we must have faith; We find ourselves hesitating to follow Thee, O Christ, afraid the cost may be too great, and life may pass us by. Give us the strength and peace that only Thou canst give. Amen

---Rachel Henderlite (1905-1991) Written for a service of worship at Montreat, North Carolina, July 20, 1954 from A Book of Reformed Prayers, ed. Howard L. Rice, Lamar Williamson, Jr., 1998, Westminster Press.

Spelling Foibiles, Spell Checkers, Comments and Curses

As PPB cannot spell "flue", I cannot spell "annoynymous." I don't think the word "annoy" is part of the word but my fingers and imagination fail me. It was two years into Seminary before I could spell "ressurection" with any confidence. It's part of that learning difference/dyslexia thing in my brain. Spell checkers with sophisicated dictionaries are a blessing to me.

Back to the point: I've changed how I receive comments on this blog by using the new Super Duper You-Know-What blocker. I hope that my legitimate annyonymous commenters will continue to comment and that all "machine" commenters will find their backsides frothing with runny warts.

Graciously,
St. Casserole

Worship went well yesterday although we were soaked in sadness. A former member died Saturday. Well-liked, active in church life and a character.

I opened the service then discussed his death and our grief.

One of his family members came to worship (the day after his death) which impressed me.

Close death shuts me down and I can't imagine "returning to normal" the next day. The family member said she didn't know what to do with her time and it was time for church, so she came to worship. Makes sense to me. We gave her hugs and told stories about the decedent.

I changed my comments section to include that new comments spammie thingie. Turns out that all the D'Waynes of the spammy world commented on Dibbie's post. (See previous post to decipher this paragraph.)

Devotedly,
St. Casserole

Saturday Cat Blogging

Dibley napping in front of Assumpta on chair. Two pairs of shorts, outgrown by LS, provide a comfortable cushion. Tapestry tablerunner from garage sale (what am I going to do with it?) on back of chair. On the far left side, you can see a bit of my brick courtyard outside my Study doors. Can you see the heat? Note small white paws with black toe pads behind Dibley.

Andy the Big Cat is sleeping outdoors recalling his ancestor's days in Egypt (origin of Cats). He is reflecting on Exodus 1: 8-2:10 when there was, "...a new king, who did not know about Joseph..."
(v. 8). Andy's world changed when the kittens arrived. He is pondering the verse as he thinks of his own life, wondering what went awry with his plans to be an only cat.

Thanks for the hits,
St. Casserole

I'm up early for estate sales. After checking the paper ads sales don't look very good for this morning although I've been fooled before. Just when you think a sale will be yukky, out pops an amazing item for $5.

Along with reading the sales ads, I read our local paper online.

Here's MY news for the day:

If things go well, I may top 10,000 visitors today. You could help me by dropping by several times. (Hint, hint)

The Full Moon illuminates my back yard with the prettiest light.

The kittens are showing signs of mature cat-osity in their faces. Ah! The young grow up so fast!

Mid-grade gas is $2.68 a gallon. We need a Democrat for President who will indict the current president and his cronies for messing with the oil costs for their own gain.

High oil is making our timber industry upset. Timber prices translate into all sorts of areas like home construction, pencils, paper and etc. Not good.

I got into my car yesterday with the temperature registering 113 in the interior. Yuk.

What's your news?
St. C

Weekly Coffee Drinking with Preachers Advertisement

Yesterday at the Preacher Coffee Drinking and Complaining Meeting (held each Wednesday at the same place, same time and same preachers, mostly) one of the preachers looked me in the eye and said, "One of the things I've learned from you is to be more gracious."

Boys and Girls, I am horrified.

I am my worst self at that group: confrontational, sarcastic, interrupting, cackle-laughing.

If my graciousness filters through, I am amazed.

The group is a place for each of us to tell what we want to tell, let down our proverbial hair and know that what we say stays in the group. Ok, so I quote another member above. I think this is ok.

My dear preaching pals, please find a group like this for yourselves. The steam I blow off at the group is safe with my group. Listening to other pastors helps me understand them and myself.

I go to group every week regardless of my schedule or health. Go ye, and do likewise.

In Harry's world, I'm...

http://piratemonkeysinc.com/quiz.htm">%20src=" Monkeys Inc.

About the PUP meeting

Slept well last night and woke this morning to organize my notes and reflections on the meeting last night of a group discussing the up-coming Peace Unity and Purity Task Force Report.

I wrote my blog entry for you. Too long but worse, would give many clues about my identity and location. I'm not prepared to lose the last bit of my privacy. This blog's mission statement is to remain private and general.

I am awash in dissonance. Meetings yesterday about budgets and nominations made me feel like an alien from the Planet Outofit. What I see and understand about Church isn't even close to what my colleagues see/understand. The PUP meeting, with people I love and respect, moved very quickly from the report to where do we go now that the denomination is exploding.
No wonder I came home, put on my jamas and zoned out. I couldn't take any more.

Today is a new day, thank God. Today we have another chance to be faithful to our calling as God's children. Let's trust God to help us find our way and ways.

Yours,
St. Casserole

Friends, as a pastor who has learned how to take it easy in ministry, today was a BEAR of A DAY. I plan to tell you about the PUP meeting after I sleep on what I heard. I hope I don't have nightmares.

However, my day began with a blast of my old pals, the Rolling Stones, from the bathroom radio. Mick Jagger was singing, "You Can't Always Get What You Want" and I listened.

To my detractors who point out that I have lost forever my East Coast Lockjaw speech after years in the Backwater, I submit that the Mighty Mick Jagger says, "caint". I heard him. He says "Caint" for "can't".

I say it, too.

He says "git" for "get", too. The proper American pronunciation is "get" as in "pet- get" not "git". I say that, also.

Later in the song, he sings, "but if you try sometime, you get what you need." My mother must have whispered in his ear as he stood at the studio microphone. She couldn't stand hearing "lazy" speech.

Night, y'all,
St. Casserole

Cinderella and Bob

Hat tip to Rei:

Cinderella is now 95 years old.After a fulfilling life with the now dead prince, she happily sits upon her rocking chair, watching the world go by from her front porch, with a cat named Bob for companionship. One sunny afternoon out of nowhere, appeared the fairy godmother.. Cinderella said, "Fairy Godmother, what are you doing here after all these years"?The fairy godmother replied, "Cinderella, you have lived an exemplary life since I last saw you.Is there anything for which your heart still yearns?" Cinderella was taken aback, overjoyed, and after some thoughtful consideration, she uttered her first wish:"The prince was wonderful, but not much of an investor.I'm living hand to mouth on my disability checks, and I wish I were wealthy beyond comprehension. Instantly her rocking chair turned into solid gold. Cinderella said, "Ooh, thank you, Fairy Godmother"The fairy godmother replied "it is the least that I can do.What do you want for your second wish?"Cinderella looked down at her frail body, and said,"I wish I were young and full of the beauty and youth I once had."At once, her wish became reality, and her beautiful young visage returned.Cinderella felt stirrings inside of her that had been dormant for years.And then the fairy godmother spoke once more:"You have one more wish; what shall it be?"Cinderella looks over to the frightened cat in the corner and says,"I wish for you to transform Bob, my old cat, into a kind and handsome young man."Magically, Bob suddenly underwent so fundamental a change in his biological make-up that, when he stood before her, he was a man so beautiful the likes of him neither she nor the world had ever seen.The fairy godmother said,"Congratulations, Cinderella, enjoy your new life. With a blazing shock of bright blue electricity, the fairy godmother was gone as suddenly as she appeared.For a few eerie moments, Bob and Cinderella looked into each other's eyes. Cinderella sat, breathless, gazing at the most beautiful, stunningly perfect man she had ever seen.Then Bob walked over to Cinderella, who sat transfixed in her rocking chair, & held her close in his young muscular arms.He leaned in close, blowing her golden hair with his warm breath as he whispered.........."Bet you're sorry you neutered me."

Sunday Night

Good day for Worship at Little Church. Early this morning, I stood outside with my coffee mug considering the new day and wanted to stay home. Such a beautiful day to be tempted to stay home to dig in the earth, prune and weed. I finished my coffee and wandered inside to get ready to drive through the county.

Matthew 15:10-20 (Jesus telling the disciples that what comes out of the mouth is the problem not what goes into the mouth; Canaanite Woman with the sick daughter who SHOUTS at Jesus for help) provides many delights for the preacher. I was ready with my sermon, prayers and a happy heart to see my people. Having been in situations where "seeing my people" delighted me less than getting rabies shots, I’m grateful for a time of "happy heart."

We had visitors. I assume our new newspaper advertising, cleaning up our church directional signs and getting a telephone message giving directions helped them find us. Cute couple. She’s pregnant and I’d be willing to host a baby shower every month until the birth along with doing all of their ironing if we could have a baby born into the congregation. Old churches with old people seldom get the fun of a new baby. And, I’d be happy to baptize the baby along with providing an antique baptismal gown. I’ll keep these incentives/bribes to myself, but it would be fun if they joined the congregation.

I have a weepy person in the congregation. The person weeps during sermons and prayers, silently dabbing at eyes with a tissue. The weeping goes on most Sundays. Before you tell me that it’s the sermon and the prayers which cause her to weep due to low quality and excessive length, I’ve considered that already.

I understand what it feels like to cry/weep/mist in worship. Church is one of my favorite places to let grief out. Or to be overwhelmed with joy. I hope people who don’t "do" church have a place where they can weep in comfortable fellowship.

Have a good week, y’all.
St. Casserole

Expeditus' RANT DAY EVENT

Dear Bloggie Sisters (and Brothers),
At Expeditus' suggestion (see comments in PUP entry), we will observe RANT DAY on Friday, August 12. All rants and craw-stickers shall be shared. You may comment on this blog or on your own.
Have a rant you don't want to claim? Say that it's your "sister's rant" and we'll believe you.
Hesitant to rant because your usual temperment is sunny and perky? Take a day or so to really dig up a good one from the depths of your outraged soul.
Concerned that you might sound petty? No Worries! The more petty the better, Betty!

As small group leader, let me begin the rant-age by sharing the following:

I detest public whistling. SHUT UP!

Waiter, don't take away my plate until everyone at the table is finished eating!

Waiter, don't take my silverware off my plate and place it on the table when bringing a new plate. Bring me a clean set of silverware or don't open a restaurant!

If you are dis-satisfied with your preacher, pray about it until you can find loving charity or go away or just SHUT UP! (ohhhhhhhh that felt good!)

If you are over the age of 3, please chew your gum with your mouth closed. NO SOUNDS, EITHER!

......that's all for tonight. I need to save a few rants for the RANT DAY EVENT!

See you!
St. Casserole

Psalm 130 v.1-2, 5-6

Out of the depths I cry to you,
O Lord.
Lord, hear my voice!
Let your ears be attentive
to the voice of my supplications!

I wait for the Lord, my soul
waits,
and in his word I hope:
my soul waits for the Lord
more than those who watch for
the morning,
more than those who watch for
the morning.

The Psalms contain the range of human feelings, don't they? All our hearts are somewhere in the
verses.

Yours,
St. Casserole

PUP Comm. Warm-Up Discussion Facilitation

The Presbytery is having a speaker to talk with us about the Peace, Unity and Purity Commission Report next week upstate. The PUP Commission report will be released on Septemper 15 and next week's meeting is to "facilitate discussion on the matter."

I will go. I dread it. I can't tell you how weary I am of discussions about how dreadful the national leadership is. We are the national leadership. We are presbytery. We are Synod. We are General Assembly. It's all us. And what do we do about a fuss with us?

Is it just a chronic Southern thing to be suspicious of guv'mint....national leadership? Maybe.
Do we only connect with those whose faces and names we know and those who know us?
Is our view of the church so small that church for us is only the folks we worship with on Sundays?

If some bad news is coming about the denomination, I'm not sure I want to hear it.

I don't expect you or the denomination to be perfect. I don't expect you to agree with me. I don't expect that we will be best friends. I do expect, if you are Christian, that we respect one another's commitment to Jesus Christ.

I'm not saying this well. Probably won't say it any better after next week's meeting.

Life is tough. Let's love each other as best we can then make sure we extend to one another the Grace Jesus gives to each of us.

I need a nap.
St. C

Things I Wish You Could See

1. Dibley, the Orange Kitten, on the kitchen counter in a loaf pan of pound cake eating cake with both paws resting on either side of his head, hind feet inside pan.
(Note to self: Blast older cat for teaching kittens to get on the kitchen counter; cover or remove any human food from kitten's grasp.)

2. The look on the LLD's face this morning when she showed me her "straight" hair carefully straightened with hot presser. She felt beautiful. I felt deja vu to my high school days when straight hair was cool and I straightened my hair.
(Note to self: Be glad I have "body" in my hair so that it isn't limp and flat.)

3. My back yard (or "garden" for transatlantic types) full of hearty greenery abundantly growing with great joy and fervor.
(Note to self: Weed backyard before plants take over house as in horror movies.)

Love,
St. C

As a teen and young adult, I swore I'd remember what it felt like to be that age. I committed to recalling the emotions, needs and impulses of youth so that I would NEVER forget. Being pooh-poohed (as in 'get over it' which wasn't said back then but a variation was) got on my nerves. I planned to grow up and still be able to relate to youth.

Oh yeah. I worked with youth groups for about the first ten years of my ministry. I was clever, creative and available to kids and thought of myself as aware of their interior lives, etc. I felt I "related" to them.

Now I have teens. The roles are reversed. I'm the big ogre of parental insensitivity. I have no understanding of what it means to be a young person.

I agree with my critics who often starch me with hot looks to show how ancient my perspective has become. My critics are searching, learning and full of themselves. They can talk endlessly about anything and know more than I will ever know.

The critics live in our home and are fed at my table. I wash their clothing and hand out signed permission slips and cash. I run their errands, anticipate their needs and am cook, nursemaid and cleaning woman.

Before I tear off into the tangent of being an over-worked, under-appreciated Mom, let me return to the intent of this post.

I don't understand. I remember, as I said I would, what it is like to be shy, unsure of oneself, what it is like to view time as one new experience after another. I do. What I don't "get" anymore is why it isn't easier for them to siphon off my experience and advice so that they can avoid the mistakes I made. How much easier it would be for them if they could.

I couldn't take my parent's experiences and use them for my own. My children can't appropriate our experiences. Not much, at least.

The difference between us is that I've experienced many things many times.

I don't care much about what I wear. If I look stupid, I can deal with it. I know how to pick friends and seldom get into problems with my friends. I know how to deal with teachers and authority figures. I know how to plan my time so I can get my work finished and have time to play. If I have to lead something, I lead it. I know how to tell someone to mind their own business and stay out of mine calmly. I'm not scared of girls or boys.

My prayer this morning is that I will be alert to my children's needs and interior lives to the extent I am able and that I will relate to them with love. I ask for wisdom, too, that I not dash hopes or stifle them.

Yours,
St. Casserole

Friday Cat Blogging

Assumpta and Dibley are settling into the Casserole Family with ease. We love these two!
Assumpta is thriving with regular meals. She looks glossy rather than gaunt. Dibley charms us all with his calm good humor.

Rusty died one month ago today. I didn't know as I said good bye to him that these two pocket kittens would come home with us. The kittens comfort my spirit and have eased my grief. Rusty's health worried me for several years but now I have three young healthy cats to enjoy. I miss my old pal who was my companion for years and I know these two little kittens are a Gift as he was.

I am sappy about cats. I love dogs, too but with our family cats seem to work better. If I rattle on too often about the cats, mention it to me. Some of my friends glaze over when I talk about my pets, you can do the same.

Purrifically,
St. Casserole

Worries on My Mind

I've got worries on my mind. I'm not asking for solace here. Really. I'm meditating on what worries I have on my plate and if it makes sense to worry. Beyond deciphering worries into manageable piles, I'm considering that my worries make complete sense.

Life is like this. We have worries which are silly and worries which make sense. I'm not even to the point of anticipating how to handle the worries if they all blow up into worse worries. I'm simply stewing in worry juice.

I suppose I'm not very good at worrying anymore. After going through fire-heaps of misery, most stuff sloughs off. I can shake worry not because I don't care or feel nothing but because I hold on to God, like Jacob, until I'm blessed or until the worry is appeased. Either one works for me.

My stomach is in knots and this doesn't feel very good. I'm so fortunate that I can feel the knots unlike someone with endless, constant worries who doesn't remember what before knots feels like. And, I have people I can talk with about my troubles. Thank you, God, for this!

We visited with friends tonight from our old neighborhood. We visited about who moved where, who was still on the old street and so on. After the visit, I realized that my stomach was relaxed and I'd forgotten my troubles. The comfort came from taking my eyes off my own full plate and recalling the lives of others. The warmth of the friends, including charming bouts of rapidly crossing themselves (making the sign of the cross) when death was mentioned, helped. We were one of the few protty couples on an RC street. Maybe my love of RC devotional piety items began there.

I calmed down. The children greeted us on our return home with all their scampering questions about school tomorrow, more laundry to wash, phone calls to return and so I'm sitting here tensing up again.

It helps when you pray for me. I remember you in my prayers, too. Sometimes in general and often specifically I tell God about you and ask for God's presence in your lives.

I'm not being coy or mysterious with this post. It's my own business and the details don't matter outside of my small circle. We are all fine and moving along with our work and lives so don't do any dramatic thinking about what is worrying me. I'm just telling you the process and asking for a prayer.

St. C

I'm drinking coffee in my NEW MUG.

The children begin school on Thursday. That's August 4th, folks. The LS's schedule is light because he worked hard last year with courses. He's signed up for physics for both semesters and is chomping at the bit to begin. LD's on her way to help new students with orientation today. This is the first "work" of being on Student Council.

I'm trying to put together writing samples for the local paper up County. I'm clear on what I won't discuss if I am given a column, not clear on what I will write. I think a column will be good free publicity for the church.

The BIG sale at Fancy Church is Saturday and oddly enough, I'm helping organize the stock on Friday. Isn't this fine ecumenical work? I make a pile as I help sort. Pal and I helped for the last two sales so we are considered regular helpers. I hope the Talbots-my-size parishoner heaves out a load of great clothing as she did the past two sales. God bless that woman for shopping so close to my taste then giving still fashionable clothing to the sale.

I got a phone call out of the blue from a woman who wants to talk about theology. I thought back to when I saw her last and remembered that I was wearing clericals. I suppose this is the push I need to continue wearing clericals during the week (when the weather cools). My LH says I need to wear clericals everyday because people need to see a "priestly helper" at the grocery store, out doing errands etc. He's correct but I've been lazy to put on the collar when the weather hits 80+.

Assumpta just now made a mess in my religious hallway grotto by knocking over one Mary planter, an Infant of Prague and two candles. Nothing was broken but she was frightened with the noise. I'll photograph the grotto to show you what my collection looks like.

Happy Wednesday,
St.Casserole

I've Been There and Bought the T-Shirt

The UPS truck showed up while I was cooking supper last night. My cafepress RevGalBlogPals t-shirt and mug arrived! If you see me today, I'll be wearing the shirt.