Mr.C. passed me the head cold he got at his office. I feel tired and rotten. No fever, just general complaints. I'll recover. Life will go on.


I'm taking today off from chores, work, duties, to-do lists. If you need me, I'll be at home being a lump.

I will keep the Vicar of Hogsmeade in my prayers along with all of our Texas pals.
The Vicar is defending herself with Ph.D. people. Our Texas pals are waiting for that durn Hurricane Ike.

Love,

St.Casserole, Lump d'Jour

Terse Week 2

Shelter from the Storms
Hugo. Coon Lake. Iowa.
Hail. Tornados. Misery.

Life,too.
A.,M.,J.,S.

for wars to cease,

St.Casserole

Happy New Year

May you find rest for your soul.

May you have work you love.

May your relationships be stronger.

May you accept yourself.

May you witness wonder, mercy and mystery.

May your year teach you useful things.

May you spend more time laughing than crying.


Thinking of you,

St. Casserole

I drove to the New Orleans airport to collect my passenger! She is here and we are happy!
Drinking coffee in her room this morning, all the cats and Sister joined us. If pets can adore humans, the room filled up with Songbird Adoration.

Today we revisit the hurricane sites Songbird saw in 2oo5 and 2006. She will see St. Peter's rebuilt, Mr. C.'s unbuilt office site and ride along the beach road toward a yarn shop. Yarn must be bought! Shopping must be done! Lunch must be eaten!

And we will talk. My soul will fill up with good ideas and her wisdom. What about this, Songbird? What shall I do about this?

Could you all come down here RIGHT NOW and join us?

I mean it.,

St. Casserole

Now that I am Older...

Now that I am older...

...I realize that is not necessary for everyone to know what I think of them.

...When you engage me in conflict, I will not tell you all I know about you because I care about you. I want to continue the relationship in the future so I will not put your back against the wall verbally.

...I realize that it is well nigh impossible for the young to realize that the world does not revolve around them, even those who are in their 30's.

...I understand that I never won when I took on the Senior Pastor. I wasn't the associate to correct the HoS or run the congregation.

...I know that most stuff isn't personal, it's just stuff. If we can't figure out how to redeem it now we can pray that our situations and relationships may be redeemed in the future.

...I look for kindness in others more than the excitement of their chaos.


Yours,

St. Casserole

Monday I heard a perfect Southern man's voice. Sitting in the pew at the regional grouping of churches discussing churches who wish to depart our fellowship, a speaker's voice caught my ear. I turned around to see a tall man in a seersucker suit speaking passionately about his congregation. I don't know him. Can't recall where he's from or what he said. His voice! That educated dulcet toned Southern male voice was enough.

Accents? I love listening to regional and national speech.

Listening to the Canadian news on the 'net last night, I tried to hear the difference in the newscaster's accent. It was the "ou" sound as in "about". Very different from mine.

We don't know what our voices sound like, do we? I hear my recorded voice played back to me and cringe. Every. Single. Time.

I called LLS this week and heard in her voice mail message our Mother's voice. Lovely to my ears!

I listened to the voices at the Mission yesterday and heard speech bereft of any public education or education in English at all. The woman is a native English speaker but her use of words showed that her speech was private, that is, not used for commerce or the larger public.

The volunteers who come to help us laugh at the use of "y'all" then begin to use it. "Y'all" is a useful word and somehow sweeter than "you guys".

LD changes her accent to fit her audience moving effortlessly from high school speech to talking with parents to navigating the larger world. Some of her tones have an NC quality from her months with LLS.

We'll have dinner Saturday night with one of my favorite voices: a native Mississippian with a cultured accent who commands a room with a beautiful sound.

Our Songbird says that her Southern accent comes out when she talks with me. She sounds familiar to me, so this must be true.

I come from the South and our voices are distinctive.

Listening,

St. Casserole

Laundry, tons of laundry to do today. Being gone for a week means the house is knee high in trash, dirty clothing and bottle caps on every floor. Whistle the Cat keeps bottle-cap soccer going all the time.

I felt rested today. I hit the wall Friday night, all day Saturday and after the hours on Sunday, felt that I should crawl to a corner and just snore. Not that I snore. If I did make any noise, it would be a gentle purr so comforting to the hearer that he wouldn't remember it the next morning.

The YCW Conference wore me out. I love all of it but kept later and earlier busy hours than I do usually. I was the one to tell all the party gals to "go to bed" Thursday night after the second shift of partiers began to laugh like monkeys.

I'm missing the conference women. I loved their voices, ideas and energy for ministry. I loved hearing different ways of approaching preaching with our leader and feel that the combo of Festival of Homies in May and this Testimony conference have upped my preaching mojo.

Here's a note for Zorra: thanks for letting me know that "fireball eucharist" is from Walker Percy and means "fibroids in the uterus". I woke up the other night, before I read your comment and thought, "Rats! I got that wrong!".

Yours,

St. Casserole

Tiding Up

Just a few notes about my delightful D.C. week:

*Everyone of the young preachers in my group did well. I wasn't surprised. It takes courage to preach to peers. They brought a sermon then wrote a sermon for the conference.

*The conference was organized very well. We worked hard but were comfortable. I hope the organizer feels good about all of her work over the past months. I do.

*I frustrated several of the conferees with my comments about dressing as a professional. I spoke without translating my humor and believe I hurt several feelings. I regret this massively.

*I have never returned home from a conference knowing massive quantities of personal information about the speaker. Early on, I hopped up to hug the speaker thinking she was overwhelmed by her life's situation. I didn't realize she does this with groups.

*The setting was glorious. I loved the music, the worship, the Bethlehem Chapel and the College where we lived. The food was great, too.

*I loved seeing a bloggie buddy I've missed for over a year now. She's doing great and really in the pink of things. Love her! I met great women last week. I hope to see them again.

*Glad to be home! Missed all of you!

St. Casserole

Guest Blogger: Fish the Cat to Meleeh the Cat

Dear Meleeh,

Thank you for the beautiful card you made for me. I chewed on the ribbon. Thank you for sending a pic of yourself. I won't hiss at you much if you come to see me. I know what you look like. You are beautiful like Andy. He has black stripes just like you!

I'm doing just fine. My ortho paw ic doctor says that she'll x-ray my leg next week and "clean-up" my splint. I do my best to keep the splint clean by licking it. Can you see my pink toes sticking out of the end of the splint?

I spend hours under my turtle quilt. I think deep cat thoughts there.

I wrote a poem about my splint:

I hate my splint
It stinks. I hate it.
Step-step-step-drag.
Don't call me Gimp!
I hate my splint!

Like it? I'm really good with poetry. Everybody says so.

Your Pal,

Fish the Cat

My friend, Little S., works with Virgina Tech students.
I left a message for her. Haven't heard back as yet.
I am so sorry for everyone in Blacksburg, the parents of students there and anyone connected with VT.

Lord, have mercy.

St. C