Mug Meme

Beso Mami has a mug meme here of seven mugs in our cupboards.

Here are mine:

1. an English pottery glazed mug with blackberries on it from a trip to England with my Mom in 1978; one of four mugs only this one remains

2. my REVGALBLOGPALS mug from our site at Cafe Press Mr. C. uses this giant sized mug more than I do

3. a Kate Spade Rutherford Circle red mug from the local salvage store

4. Walter Anderson pottery mug from the Peter Anderson Festival in Ocean Springs

5. White mug, plain but lovely to hold

6. Blue Fiesta Mug in that odd blue glaze not dark or light

7. A Catzilla mug with tuxedo and ginger cats

I would like RevMutha, Songbird and NotShy to tell us about their muggage....

Hope you got enough turkey today,

St. Casserole

From the prayer book, "and give us one thing more, give us grateful hearts".

Happy Thanksgiving to all of you.

St. Casserole

Ten Random Things About Me

I'm playing because Songbird invited me to play.

1. I really like Diet Coke.
2. I was head cheerleader for the Calvin Bowl my first year of seminary in Virginia.
3.I love a dollop of maple syrup in my oatmeal.
4. Sterling silver, how it can be made into anything, fascinates me.
5. I'm going on the RevGal Cruise!
6. I design houses to fall asleep.
7. I listen to audio books while driving.
8. Early morning is my favorite time of day.
9. I like sweets and wish I didn't.
10. I've learned more about the Bible preaching the lectionary than I ever have before.

You reading this? All the way through? I tag you!

St. Casserole

Rev. Bird Dog says he gives up the ministry every Monday following Easter Sunday. He says he gives it up, without a backward glance....until he gets rest.

Is Daylight Saving Time a governmental reminder that we are exhausted? Around the Casserole home everyone is worn out. We go to bed earlier and stomp around cranky through these short light days. If I didn't love them, I'd holler at them about being crabby and turned inward through the early Winter days.

James Howell writes about "Staying Power" in the Oct. 30 Christian Century. Howell tells the story of the night he decided to leave the ministry which turned out to be the night he decided to stay in ministry. He doesn't say when this night occurred but it may have been in November.

I imagine he was tired. Aren't we all just aching for a deep sleep and several good naps?

It's Advent almost. I will put aside Luke and the current lectionary to sprint with delight to a new year of texts. Not that I haven't gotten more out of the Luke year than I ever have before but because I am tired of trying to compose sermons to bring Jesus' words to a tired and worn-out world.

I head off to Manhattan next week for my Annual Shopping, Food and Theater Pilgrimage. Miss P. and I have nothing planned: no tickets to see Radio Music Hall or TV shows or anything. She's worn out, too.

Ministry is tiring. Frustrating. Provoking of anger, rebellion and chaos. Writing sermons makes me feel like a beginner every week even though I have years of experience.

Stay and rest, people. Stay and wait, people. Stay and watch, people.

St. Casserole

Today

Finally. Cold weather here! Frost on the roof! After months of heat with humidity, the weather turned crisp. I am one happy RevGal.

John Holbert, the homiletics professor at Perkins School of Theology in Dallas, speaks this morning at a local church. {The flower money pays for this. God bless the flower money!} John's topic is " What's Good about the Good News? Preaching the Alternative Reality of God."

Preacher quick recipe: Pumpkin Muffins-two boxes of Duncan Hines Spice Cake mix, two 15 oz. cans of Pumpkin, two teaspoons of vanilla. Combine the ingredients with electric mixer. Batter will be very stiff. Fill muffin cups 2/3 full. Bake at 350 degrees for 20-24 minutes. Simple, delicious muffins with no eggs or oil.

I am very happy. Landscapers pruned, weeded, replaced dead plants and put out pine straw in our yard. Workers caulked windows and doors along with painting trim. My front doors are a subtle but odd color of green and look great. Getting work done here is frustrating, miserable and expensive. This week's crew did beautiful work. Amazing.

If your child is in theater, she becomes an instant drama critic. Hilarious discussion around the dinner table last night with LD dissing a local theater group who presented "...something about a cat and roofs" (trans. Cat on A Hot Tin Roof) "Dad", she said, "Did you know it was written by a guy from Mississippi?"

I will wear socks with my flip flops today and a turtleneck with my shorts in honor of the chilly weather.

Moving Right Along,

St. Casserole

Why I Live Here

From this morning's paper, here in the Backwater:

"When it comes to communiticating , Brown has said, “I answer my phone, my e-mails and letters, and I respond to messages.”"

Little Church is a happy place for me.

I walk up to the pulpit and feel a rush of joy and gratitude about being there.

Church redevelopment (or whatever it's called now) suits me fine.

We elected two new elders Sunday.

Couldn't have done this two years ago, but now we have the people and the energy.

Yours,

St. C.

Dear Aunt Bostick,

The Major Political Party in the state sends me several giant full color postcards daily touting their candidates. I'm even getting mass mailings of magnolia prints from the State First Lady printed in cursive! I didn't "do" Halloween this week because I know that the real "trick or treat" will happen on Tuesday with the elections. Any advice? St. Casserole



My dear Casserole,

I've been voting since Truman wore diapers. Did you get the one with the white Major Party Candidate with the picture of his Smaller Party candidate? Yes, the one where the opponent is Black. Good Lord! The subtle racism of the Major Party in this piteous State repels me!

Toughen your skin to balance between idealism and cynicism. Use your idealism to encourage hope for change and your cynicism to motivate yourself to get to work! The system needs our votes but pays little attention to us. Go to your local Council meetings, Neighborhood groups, State legislature to make your needs known. Speak up for those who have no voice.

On Tuesday, I'll vote for the candidate who has the most education and who repulses me least.

I want political parties to inspire me with thoughtful care of the children and elderly! I'm writing to the State Majority Party to tell them that I want them to put all their campaign money into programs for the poor like little children and old people. They don't care about the vulnerable. Health care for children and old people stink here. Immigration policy needs attention. Pay public school teachers a living wage! Throw out the school programs that exist to drive teachers crazy with paperwork and frustrate the children.

Let's make it a law that no politician can run for office unless his children and grandchildren attend public school. I know you sent your little precious ones to private school, so you are disqualified.

The Smaller State party isn't much better. Too bad the U.S. Attorney General's Federal Attorney Scandal cut off funds from one of the wealthiest benefactors in the State. Wait until people figure out what was done to them.

Get back to work, Sweetie. Do what you can to make your community better. Read about government. Read history. Pray. Think. Do. Isn't that what your sweatshirt says?

I've got more green peppers coming along in the garden. I'll send them on to you with Beulah Lynch when she comes to the Coast for the Baptist Ladies Drum Corp and Hymn Sing.

Love,

Aunt Bostick

I've been off line with AT&T modem problems. My modem went bad.

Workers are here at our home caulking, repairing and standing around looking at potential job areas.

John Calvin (pictured left) inspires me to proceed as best I am able, with God's grace, forward.

Nothing much else to report except my sermon which is mostly in my head but will be on paper tonight.

Yours,

St. Casserole

What I Want

I'll miss Presbytery this week.

Here's what I want Presbytery to be:

• fair to everyone. no favorites. no golden boys. interested in all preachers
• for the executive presbyter to drop the "executive" part and fulfill all the obligations in the Book of Order, to be a pastor to pastors, to know each pastor's abilities and interests and to use these to further mission
• a place of encouragement for collegial relationships fostering friendships rather than competition
• to be a place where worship is valued. for every meeting to include worship not just the obligatory opening prayer
• where churches work together to help one another
• where there is a spirit of openness, transparency rather than having all major decisions made before the meeting
• a better place for laypeople to develop skills for ministry both administrative and pastoral
• a clearing house of information about available resources
• a group people love not dread.

Am I willing to work for these things? I'm not sure this week. Politics and meanness are killing my presbytery.

St. Casserole, someone who wants Presbytery to be more

Rain again today. All day long.
Too much thunder and lightening for Sister the Dog who crawled under our bed to pray.
I wore rain boots out to supper tonight.
Thank goodness Cheesehead introduced me to the Betty Friedan line of anti-frizz hair products.

Yours,

St. Casserole

It's raining! It has been raining! It will rain more!

Good news for the parched ground!

St. Casserole

Friends, that sound is my last nerve popping.

Look at the October 15th issue of the Presbyterian Outlook.

Read the Editor's page. Scratch head in wonderment.

Read that Editor Jack Haberer writes about a young adult friendly PCA congregation in New York.

Haberer's point of view is the good work this church does with young adults. Great.

He notes that the PCA is a denomination that "bucks" us. Understatement.

I DO NOT WANT TO READ ABOUT THE PCA IN MY DENOMINATIONAL MAGAZINE.

Independent periodical or not, the Outlook is a source of news for PCUSA people.

The PCA connected adoption agencies will not place a child with a PCUSA family because we are not "evangelical".

The PCA does not ordain women.

In some PCA churches, women do not teach boys older than 11.

The PCA delights in misunderstanding the PCUSA.

The PCA hurts families and churches in my State. Agressive is an understatement.

I've read the Presbyterian Outlook since 1975. I'm about finished.

Say what you will but the column is inappropriate. Like he couldn't find a great PCUSA congregation to visit and review?

St. Casserole

Just sayin'.

Computer probs and work slowed down teh blogging.

Yours,

St. Casserole

The winner of the CONTEST! is Presbyterian Gal. First runner-up is Alex who took a decorative approach and Second runner-up is Little Mary with the whining card. As the rules mentioned, only the Winner winner is the winner.

Congrats to Presbyterian Gal! Send me your address and I'll mail the John Calvin Creamer and Sugar Bowl to you.

About the judging: David took a cheap shot at Calvinism with his "understanding" of predestination. Teri corrected all of youse so she gets an "honorable mention" for being theologically diligent.

It's just as well that Cheesehead wimped over to David because she didn't qualify for the contest. Not really. Y'all would cry "foul" if my G.A. Roommate and Fashion Maven won. Same with Songbird, Sue and the rest of you.

After reviewing the comments with Ernst&Ernst, the cats and drinking a poor excuse for an Irish Cider, the best comment became obvious.

Congrats to Presbyterian Gal!!!! She is a winner!

With Enough Dour Attitude to Share,

St. Casserole

Contest!

Win the John Calvin Creamer and Sugar Bowl!

Rules: Contest open to residents of the contiguous United States only. Sorry, but it's difficult to mail anything outside of my State much less to foreign shores. One entry per contestant. Postage to be paid by me. Judging will be impartial, expert and foreshadow that of Heaven.

In the comments, explain why you should own the John Calvin Creamer and Sugar Bowl.
Please note that this John Calvin set is for decorative purposes only. A good Calvinist drinks black coffee and plain tea. The life of servanthood is not for sissies who use sugar and cream.

Dubbie's leg and foot are not included in the prize!

Winner will be announced on Friday, October 12, 2007 when I get around to it.

You do not have to be a Calvinist to play!

St.Casserole, Judge

Calm Down! This ONLY the Contest Announcement!

In honor of LD getting her braces off today and being in her first High School Play this evening, I am proud to announce a St.CasseroleContest!

Friends, please prepare yourselves to enter the St.Casserole Comment Contest tomorrow!

Grand Prize, to be shown here tomorrow, will be given to the best comment about why you should win the Grand Prize to be shown here tomorrow. There will be no runner-up or place prizes, only the Grand Prize to be shown here tomorrow. This is win or lose, cut bait or fish, drive or get out of the car, saddle up or shut up type contest.

Your best hope is your wit, brainpower and not telling another soul about this contest so that I get so few entries that every one's comment looks good because I will be humiliated by desperation to be shown here tomorrow.

This is, however, not about me but about LD's no brace's smile and her play tonight and about you who should be sharpening your comment skills to be shown here tomorrow.

Until then, I remain, ever your,

St. Casserole

P.S. You could practice by leaving sucking up kinds of comments today!

More about Obituaries...

*Local obituary of an older woman records her involvement with the senior citizen's program along with names of her survivors only. Did this woman do nothing in her earlier years? Was the writer of her obit familiar with her latter years only?

Shouldn't obituaries, even with cost restraints regarding length, include something about the person's life? Was she a member of the Ruth Bible Class? Did her recipe for duck a la banana die with her? Was she a reader or knitter or great with little children?

*What's all this with "special friends"? If the deceased lived with Denise for 15 years, wouldn't "companion" be more exact? A recent local obit listed the young man's girlfriend as "Tiffany" with no surname. In years to come, will survivors wonder which Tiffany?

Obits are supposed to be a final historical record of the person's life. Where was she born? Where did she die? Who preceded her in death? Who were her people? What did she do? etc. etc. The local paper will not say how the person died. I respect the privacy of those who died while cleaning gutters standing on a paint can holding a live electrical wire and eating a Hot Pocket microwaved pepperoni "sandwich" at midnight in the rain but a tad of information may be helpful to survivors.

Write your own obituary and keep it updated (like served the Riverside Church as Pastor) so survivors will know what you want included.

Tom Long has a good audio lecture at the Calvin Institute of Worship about re-thinking Christian funerals. He mentioned some of these things at the Fest o' Homies this summer.

Just saying,

St. Casserole

Riverside Church has not called me. I'm growing moss waiting to get the call to be their next pastor.

I do not know why. I do not understand this.

Here's a tip about me: I'd rather you tell me than not tell me.

For example, I love my broker. She's a wonderfully smart gal with a generous heart. She's trim and looks great in her clothes. However, she wears a rectangle of dark eye shadow over each eyelid and it looks odd. If she blended the eyeshadow, it'd look like she punched herself in the eye. The rest of her make-up and hair are well done. I do not know why anyone hasn't said something to her about this. It's just weird looking. Other people comment on it but no one tells her.

I'd rather be told.

Why haven't I told her? I'm trying to live by Mr.C's advice. He says, "St.C, everyone doesn't need to know your opinion of them."

Excellent, excellent. But what if there is a wild flaw I need to know about? I know I interupt too much. I dress from thrift shops so I can look like a groomed bag lady on my best days. I go on about cats too much. Etc. Etc.

Not to be gross but I heard a pal at the Young Clergywoman's Conference say that she had a "booger patrol" at her church. Choir members were supposed to tell her if she had "nose dirt" showing before she entered the sanctuary. We need this.

There's nothing like dragging toilet paper on our heels or having our skirts tucked into our pantyhose as we walk around life.

But, who tells us?

I'm just saying, if you need to tell me something, tell me.
If it's dreadful, tell me in private.


Oh? Is that Riverside calling me? BRB!

St. Casserole

One Blogpost for Burma.
Free Burma

Thanks, Karen!


St.C.

Here's Proof I Went to a Football Game

Mr. C. escorted me to a football game uppada LS's school. LS and Friend went with us. LS's school team had a rotten time of it until We left at half-time (school night for LD and F.) Twenty-five miles out of town and the team recovered enough to lose by two points, which was better than 31-7.

See my shoes? See those Skittles? I ate popcorn without salt and drank a Diet Coke.

Kept wishing I had a tape to record the good ol'boys sitting behind me. Accents were priceless as were their comments.

A Real Sports Fan Here,

St. Casserole

Obituary Troubles New Series!

I read obituaries. I read to be aware of pastoral needs and lately, for entertainment. The "good" obit is a thing of beauty, an art form but here in the Sticks, we have odd things happen when we rhapsodize our dead. For example, the "Ken" of this story is 47. Assuming that his partner is around his age, is it fair to think that the remaining years of her life will be spent burning up time to join him on his heavenly fishing boat? What if his partner heals from his loss enough to love again?

"Please envision Ken floating above us in a great boat with a feisty fish on the line, cheering for the LSU Tigers, reunited with all the adoring pets who passed before him, smiling and patiently waiting for his wife Alice, the "love of his life and best friend", to join him on board to resume their life together on the best journey ever."
Turning a steel eye toward others,

St. Casserole

Take a seat. I'll get to bloggage after I finish a load of busyness.

Rapidly,

St. Casserole

P.S. This bench reminds me of the old dorm furnitue at CTS. Who knew this style would make a come back?

Home

Safely home from beautiful Ireland. Tired. Sleepy.

More later,

St. Casserole

I'm in Dingle, County Kerry. So beautiful here! The Covenant Group travels well together although having a Flower Foundation "Companion" can be awkward.

I ate a cream filled pastry this morning. Wasn't hungry but felt you all wanted me to eat my way across Ireland.

More later, I'm at an Internet cafe with a line behind me.

I'll be home late, late tomorrow. I sure missed you!

Love,

St. Casserole

Pre-Travel Musings...

Went to bed at midnight. Woke up at 4 a.m. Ride comes at 8 am. Plane leaves at 1:10 pm. Two hour wait in Philadelphia. Hours later, arrive Shannon Airport.

Jittery, here.

Cats and dogs are delighted to get an early breakfast and have ear scratches, cooing and snuggles. Dubby keeps following the cats hoping for someone to play with him.

Sitting here in the dark, with the computer monitor as the light source, a moth flew to my screen then dived into my coffee cup. I am very grateful I saw this as I would have sipped moth...

I've packed as much as I think I need. LD loaned her North Face fleece (the #1 Choice of High School students here) and R. sent over a packable Gore-tex jacket. I did not pack any cute shoes unless you think the bluefish Sperry's are cute. I bought those to stomp through rainy days with comfy feet.

See that Hello Kitty suitcase? I'm traveling with the giant Go-Across-the-Big-Water suitcase I bought at a garage sale months ago. LS took it to France and if it can survive traveling with Mr. Rough and Tumble, it will do fine with me. I put a bright pink tassel on it so he could find it quickly. The tassel survived and will lead me to it in Ireland.

It seems that the three other preachers traveling with me are having fits, too. I spoke with each several times yesterday and they sound frayed, tired and anxious.

Thank you, LLS for your sweet call. Hey! NJ Girl? So glad to hear from you! And, my wild Epis. priest buddy from the Young Clergywomen's Conf. called to say she'd begun blogging even if she hasn't posted yet! Yippee! NJ Girl: get a blog. I want both of you to become RGBP's. LLS, you'd be a great RGBP, too and your kitties could blog!

Songbird, I'll miss talking with you everyday. It will be weird to not tell you all the goofy details along the trip.

If you didn't call me yesterday, it's because you couldn't get through. I was on the phone ALL DAY LONG.

I'm going to be brave today and travel over water to Ireland. I commend my family and friends and Little Church to God's good care. I will be sweet to my traveling buddies (not difficult but they are TESTY)and drink plenty of water.

I wish I was neurotic about Post-Industrial European Studies rather than leaving home. It would be easier.

Brave and trying to be Tall and Commanding,

St. Casserole

Dear Aunt Bostick

Dear Aunt Bostick,
I'm flying to Ireland tomorrow. Everyone is happy for me. I'm not very happy, though. Why do I fret and fester before a trip?

Your Niece,
St. Casserole

My dear, how nice to hear from you again. I'm pleased that you will go to Ireland. Your Uncle, now in the Church Invisible, traveled to Ireland once to sell grass seed. He loved the country, the people and the pubs.

All of us feel a twinge about traveling from home. Leaving those we love best to board airplanes (subsidized by your govt.) where one is packed like a tinned fish with people who either reek of dry cleaning fluid or athletic activities is no fun. Once those cute young people stopped working the flights to be replaced with normal looking staff things changed with air travel. Travel becomes a physical endurance test instead of a flying party.

You'll go ahead with your trip. God will be with your family here. Your friends will be here when you return. You'll see new things in an world without hurricane debris or damage.

Just a few things: when drinking in pubs, do not wipe the froth off with your sleeve. Be kind to everyone and speak slowly. I'm not sure the Irish have an ear for your accent. If your feet hurt, your back aches or you do not care for your luncheon, keep this information to yourself. No one likes a complaining traveler.

I'll keep you in my prayers while you are away. When you return, please let me know why in God's name you got another cat.

Lovingly,

Aunt Bostick

If I do not get it done or packed today, it will not be handled before I leave for Ireland and will not be in my suitcase or carry-on.

The clock is ticking away.


Yikes!


St. Casserole

Amazing! We have COOL temperatures here! It's in the 60's!

Taking my coffee mug outside to stare, as I do every morning, I felt cool air!

Stunned and Happy,

St. C.

Not the CCL!

Dear Grace and all those who are wondering if I am becoming the Crazy Cat Lady,

I discussed the issue of multiple cats and the effect on CCL with Songbird who has assured me, in two separate phone calls, that four cats does not a CCL make.

I am not at all defensive about the suggestion that I am a CCL. Not.One.Bit.

Nada.

No way am I defensive.

Really.

You can see that the CCL Action Figure has seven cats. I have four. Just 4.

Not defensive. Not the the defense-inator. Nope.

Yours,

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

Press Release from St. Casserole's Cattery

Welcome, Dubbie!

Dubbie, the Bookstore foster kitten joins Andy, Fish and Whistle in the St. Casserole household. He is a native of St. Casserole Town and was born in extreme circumstances then abandoned. Discovered by a kind-heart, Dubbie, along with his three brothers, was bottle-fed and loved until old enough to become a pet.

St. Casserole said, "He's a dear boy and we are delighted to have him with us." LD added, "He's my kitten and I love him already." Andy, Fish and Whistle had no comment. Sister, Fish and Whistle's Nanny admits that she's a bit surprised to have another cat under her care but is ready to bring Dubbie up as she has the Ginger Brothers. Mr. Casserole appeared stunned when he realized that Dubbie joined the household.

Dubbie, a polydactyl kitten, is white with a saddle and toupe of grey striped fur. He has all pink toes 'cept one black hind toe. He's sweet natured and glad to be with people. He will be enrolled at Prof. Whisker's in the next few weeks for Cat School. He's interested in learning to type and create web pages since he has "cat thumbs".

FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE

My radiologist (a friend) told me that local Irish women do not go to pubs and that I will not be welcomed until I speak and show myself to be an American. Interesting!
I will spend time in pubs next week in Ireland. I will be a pub visiting, ale drinking woman.

I intend to drink ale. I will drink ale. I will be cautious because I am an infrequent drinker and don't enjoy alky hall much, but I will drink ale. I won't be responsible for driving and I'll be in a safe group. And, I won't overdo. I wouldn't mention this but I am not a social drinker or closet drinker. People think I'm being pious but it's a personal taste kind of thing rather than a discipline.

Pictured is the Fitzgerald Bar from the fabulous BBC series, Ballykissangel.
Put the series in your Netflix que.

I hear we will have cool temperatures in Ireland. So looking forward to cool weather!

Soberly,

St. Casserole

Thinking about Grace

I woke up early thinking about Hurricane Humberto. Humberto passed us by on the Central Gulf Coast but headed inland toward Houston. I hope our pal, Quotidian Grace, and all Houstonians and Texans fared well through the hurricane.

The threat of hurricanes, tropical storms and such get on our nerves this time of year. In the old days, we didn't worry about big storms by mid-September. Now we worry about storms until the end of September.

I do not live in a flood zone but have flood insurance. I didn't lose my home but have Katrina damage still because I can't find workers. It takes a long time to recover from hurricanes.

I hope all is well for our Grace and her fellow Texans.

Thinking of her,

St. Casserole

Well, hey...

I'm preaching on the Jeremiah passage. Luke will be taking a break this Sunday.

A gallery in BSL took three of my boxes. These are the mixed media retablo type things I've been making for months. It is an odd feeling to move from the privacy of my opinion of my work to what others may think.

All my work materials are boxed now. The kitchen counter is clean (is granite the best work surface ever?)with all the glue scraped up. I'm moving toward my next calendar project.

I'm going to Ireland with the Preacher Group on the 18th. Yep, the flower foundation is funding the distressed hurricane pastors trip to the green green world of Ireland for a week. We'll listen to story-tellers and meditate in pubs to try to make sense of what happened two years ago.

So, pals, what do I pack for a mid-September trip? It's hot Summer here. Can I even imagine that I might be chilly or cold?

Suggestions?

St. Casserole

Guest Blogger: Whistle Interviews Andy

Whistle: Andy, I'm interviewing you for the blog.
Andy: Blog Smog! Shut-up!!!
W: Andy, Mom said you had to be nice to me.
A: Be Quiet!
W: You are in the confinement pen in Mom's Study. Can you tell us why?
A: Big hole in my gut. Had surgery, emergency surgery, on Monday.
W: How's it going?
A: Hate it! I'm an outdoor cat. Can't stand being confined.
W: You have a litter box in there.
A: Don't talk about that! Litter boxes are for prissy little indoor cats! I haven't used one before.
W: Is that why you didn't use it for almost two days? We saw you with your back legs crossed...
A: Do Not Write About This!
W: OK.
A: And don't put a sappy picture up either!
W: OK, I won't. How long do you have to stay in the confinement pen?
A: Doc says two weeks. I say until I break out of here.
W: You have stitches and an e-collar. Just like Fish did.
A: Stitches come out today. I pulled off the e-collar. Do not tell!
W: I won't tell. Andy, you are a Katrina Survivor, aren't you?
A: Yeah, I came back with the Casserole Men three days after the Storm. They needed me. I rode in the rental truck with water, ice, food, chain saws and generators. I kept watch over the home while they helped people. Trees were down everywhere! I walked on trees instead of climbing. I had to eat what they put down for me except for a few squirrels and some birds I caught. I felt badly about eating the yard animals, no sport in it. The animals were dazed and sick. That Storm about killed us all. You were less than a week old then. You don't know anything about hurricanes!
W: OK. Mom says you picked out us as a family...
A: Not you or your brother! I found this house several years ago. I became the apprentice to Rusty the Great Cat. He taught me everything I know.
W: He's the cat Mama talks about and then gets all wet eyed about?
A: Yeah, She loved him and he loved her. He was Great.
W: She loves all of us. We love Sister our Nanny and you.
A: Stop it! My pain meds are wearing off! I'm not talking anymore to you!
W: OK.

For those in the path of the hurricane and other storms, Lord have mercy.

From NOAA 8pm. Sunday Night

HURRICANE FELIX SPECIAL DISCUSSION NUMBER 10
NWS TPC/NATIONAL HURRICANE CENTER MIAMI FL AL062007
800 PM EDT SUN SEP 02 2007

REPORTS FROM A NOAA HURRICANE HUNTER AIRCRAFT INDICATE THAT FELIX
HAS INTENSIFIED AND IS NOW A CATEGORY FIVE HURRICANE. THE AIRCRAFT
REPORTED PEAK FLIGHT-LEVEL WINDS OF 152 KT...WITH PEAK SFMR WINDS
OF 142 KT IN THE SOUTHWEST QUADRANT. HIGHER SFMR WINDS WERE FOUND
IN THE NORTHEAST QUADRANT...UP TO 163 KT...BUT THESE MAY HAVE BEEN
CONTAMINATED BY GROUPEL. A DROPSONDE RELEASED IN THE SOUTHWEST
QUADRANT LANDED IN THE NORTHEAST QUADRANT...AND THIS DROP YIELDED A
SURFACE ESTIMATE OF 139 KT BASED ON THE LOWEST 150 M LAYER AVERAGE.
BASED ON THESE DATA...THE PEAK SURFACE WINDS ARE ESTIMATED TO BE AT
LEAST 145 KT. AN EYE SONDE MEASURED A SURFACE PRESSURE OF 936 MB
WITH SURFACE WINDS OF 24 KT. BECAUSE OF THE EXTREME TURBULENCE AND
GROUPEL THAT THE AIRCRAFT EXPERIENCED...THE MISSION IS BEING
ABORTED AND THE AIRCRAFT IS RETURNING TO ST. CROIX.

THIS SPECIAL ADVISORY IS BEING ISSUED TO UPDATE THE INITIAL AND
FORECAST INTENSITIES. NO OTHER CHANGES TO THE FORECAST ARE BEING
MADE. THIS SPECIAL ADVISORY IS BEING ISSUED IN LIEU OF THE
SCHEDULED INTERMEDIATE ADVISORY.

Lord have mercy on those in Felix's path.
Great, Just Great,

St. Casserole

St. Casserole Suggests........

It may be hotter than Hades here but I'm ready to change from OPI's classic Cajun Shrimp on my pastoral toes to OPI's Vodka and Caviar shown above.

I am ready to stop wearing linen and cotton everyday and dress for Fall. Our Fall temps (like below 85c) will begin in October, late in the month. We survived August's scorch. I'm ready for Fall.

Check out Vodka and Caviar the next time you get a pedicure.

Just Sayin,

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

Q. What is joy?

A. Joy is being free to run and jump. Joy is waking up your humans with purrs and sniffs. Joy is using the Booda litter box for the first time, just like Whistle. Joy is being out of confinement with a healed leg.


St. Casserole

Fish injured his back leg 4 months and 13 days ago. 137 days...

FISH IS HEALED! FISH IS RUNNING AROUND OUR HOUSE! YIPPEEEE!

Remembering Katrina 2007

Two years ago today, we were in Destin waiting for word about the Gulf Coast. News of the Coast was scarce because the news people couldn't get to Mississippi. We saw where Katrina's eye came ashore later in the morning. Cell phone and land line calls did not work as we tried to call our friends who stayed in their homes.

We didn't know that our hurricane preparations made no difference. Boarding up Mr. C's law firm building (an old Coast home restored and used for less than ten months) was destroyed. So many trees fell around our home that it could not be seen from the street. P. and C.'s home flooded. Our pediatrician's home flooded. Many of our neighbor's homes were flooded, broken by trees or blown away. Our sailboat ended up miles away. People died because they refused to evacuate or would not leave their pets.

Who knew anything? We didn't. Scenes of New Orleans on the news showed misery. Little did we know that the levees would break and ruin the City Care Forgot.

Little did we know that churches were demolished, roads torn up and our lives changed forever.

Regular people suffered extreme misery.

We kept close to the tv in the Destin condo.

Andy, Assumpta and Dibley ran around meowing. LD and LS tried to text message their friends. Mr. C. and I held on.

Remembering,

St. Casserole

Dear Aunt Bostick

Dear Aunt Bostick,

I've gotten stuck in my bloggage. Too much stuff is going on right now for me to have much to say in my blog. I'm not depressed. I'm overwhelmed.
What should I do?
Your Niece,

St. Casserole

My Dear Casserole,
How kind of you to write me with your troubles. You young things don't often ask those of us who've lived through World Wars, Skirmishes and the Bush Years our opinions. Your generation appears to be busy using credit unwisely, allowing your children to make family decisions and wearing your clothing too tight. I thank you my dear for asking my advice.
First, what kind of blogger are you? Do you have a theme other than whining? If you have a theme you may find topics everyday. Or, are you a blogger who blogs only when she has something to say? I doubt this as I have read a number of your posts and they appear to be of no consequence to anyone. Forgive me if this sounds harsh.
Second, how much of your life do you wish to share with the unwashed masses, I mean, your readers. Who are these people anyway? When was the last time you asked lurkers and others to comment? It might help if you knew your audience. If you find out who reads you you may wish to tailor your remarks to their varied sensibilities.
Third, as Ernest told me one day long ago as we lounged on the beach in Key West, write what you know. Avoid pontificating on those subjects which elude your experience and brain power.
Fourth, keep it short. Your posts are too long. And, dear one, what's all this stuff about cats? Not everyone loves cats as you do. Thank goodness you started a blog for Whistle. That cat chats about his birthday every day of the year!
Fifth, remember these rules of life: eat more bran, organize your eyebrows, stand up straight, vote for the Democrats no matter how much or little you have in your Bank, tend to your family, don't run to Walgreen's looking like the Wrath of God and use sterling flatware at every meal. Honor these rules and your days will be long and happy.

Lovingly,

Aunt Bostick

Hey!

Love,

St. Casserole

P.S. This is all I have to say.

Hey! I'd blog more but I'm busy driving three hours to 2 hour meetings!
Cleaning up after messy people! Writing a sermon! Watching the Weather Channel (this is high season for hurricanes)!

Praying for friends
Getting LS settled at the University
Driving LD to various activities but not school because she is in a car pool
Writing letters asking for rebuilding funds for my congregation
Doing laundry
Reading


Yours,

St. Casserole

I've just had enough of about everything. As I told Mr. C last night, "I'm mad at the whole world!" Wisely, he turned over and went to sleep. So did I.

Therefore, I am dipping back into a pleasant memory vault for this picture of the downtown Bailey's Cafeteria in my hometown. We went there with my mother and grandparents as little kids. I believe LLS will remember Bailey's with me. I taught her how to take the ping pong ball off of the top of the water spray in the fountain before adults yelled at us.

I recall happy experiences at the cafeteria except for the time I realized that Mrs. Young, my sixth grade teacher, was behind me at the next table. Not only had I been caught off guard by a teacher straying from her post at the school so that I could be tortured at Bailey's by her nearness but I also had to go speak to her because of good manners. That woman had nerve.

If you think you can cheer me up, I'd do as Mr. C. did and ignore me until my mood lifts.

Here's to a good memory,

St. Casserole

News from the Neighborhood

Our colleague, Edward O'Connor, will leave the Gulf Coast to become Dean of the Cathedral in Jackson. Edward accomplished many things during his time here. I am sorry to see him go. He mentored a clergy pal of mine, calmed his congregation, preached well (so I heard) and moved his congregation forward after the hurricane. One of his great skills is his ability to listen. You know he hears you when you speak. I told Mr. C. that I was going to try to be a great listener like Edward so I cocked my head and stared at Mr. C. Finally, after being silent for several seconds, Mr. C. said, "Now you've gone creepy on me." Let me work on this...

We at Little Church heard from our denominational funders this week about our hurricane rebuilding grant. We received about 1/10th of our asking. I suppose that we didn't receive more because we haven't spent our cautiously saved funds down to zero (how can a tiny church of older people do this???) and have not cleaned our membership rolls since before the storm. We didn't think it wise to notify members that we were deleting them from our rolls after the storm. It would be another loss for them even it they aren't attending.
So, here we are, almost two years from the storm, without the funds to repair our church building. The building is secure and functional but has broken sheet rock, shows storm damage and looks bad. We put in new windows, replaced the roof, replaced the front columns and porch flooring, added ceiling fans and now we need to finish. We waited all this time, having been told that the millions donated by the faithful would complete our repairs. We applied for the money last Fall. We heard this week.
Very little of the needed work can be done by unskilled volunteers.
We are stuck. Pray for us.

The Southern Gulf is getting pounded by Dean the Hurricane. Lord, have mercy on your people there!

Fish the Cat's leg is healing well! Dr. Jen, our dear Vet before the storm, was back at Dr. D.'s Saturday! She watched Fish walk and trot then pronounced "He's doing great!" Fish returned home exhausted but happy that he may have only two more weeks in his Hermitage (confinement pen).

I feel rushed on Monday's to catch up with last week's leftovers, recover from Sunday and get started on this week's tasks. Do you feel the same?

Lovingly,

St. Casserole

Hurricane Dean

Ewwwwww, not again!



Where are the double dipped in Chocolate Oreos at a time like this?,

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

New Words

An enclosed courtyard: a garth

Excellent excuse to leave anytime, anywhere: say you have "explosive diarrhea"

Lady-like name for, uh, personal areas: Princess Parts

Odd medical condition: fireball eucharist (told to a Doctor who translated this to mean "fibroid tumors". No. Kidding.

You may be tested on these words later this week.

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

Slept well last night in air conditioning + fan! Good times.


This lovely, well-planned conference will be over in a few hours. I will miss Hogwarts. Sitting under the giant trees on the Cathedral grounds with coffee this morning, I looked around trying to memorize the grounds. No little black squirrels came out looking for the giant acorns. Perhaps they were listening to the 7:30 am. Eucharist inside the Cathedral. Troops of conferees passed me on their way to Chapel.


We need traveling mercies for all those leaving today for home. We've got women from as far away as Oregon.

I am so glad I came to the conference. I'm so glad I had a peaceful week at Hogwarts.

Y'all doing ok?,

St. Casserole

P.S. I'll be home this evenin'

Standing in the G at the C of P

Dear World,
Where I come from, a third world country within the U.S., we have air conditioning. We have a/c everywhere. Otherwise, we couldn't survive days and nights of 99 degree temperatures. Our attitudes would not survive.


You may recall that I'm out of town right now. Here I am in ecclesiastical Heaven where there is no a/c in my room. I'm sure it's a fluke of mechanics but I cannot sleep in a hot room. Hogwarts is well nigh perfect. Beautiful buildings, landscaping done so well it makes my teeth hurt and a serene environment where prayer pours out like a waterfall.
Excuse me, I so hot I am having a crabby fit.


I've heard that your Northern persons don't have air conditioning but I haven't believed it. How do people sleep in this heat without cool air blowing on them. As one of the young conferees said to me a few minutes ago, "You have a fan. I read it on your blog." Well, yes, I have a fan but it blows tepid phlegm temp air on me and I cannot sleep.


How many ways can I say I am too hot to sleep? I can't sleep without some cool air. I am too hot to sleep. I can't sleep in this heat.


I could sleep in the bathtub of the communal bathroom but dignity would prevent my hall mates from using the potty if I slept in the tub. I could sleep on the refectory table where the air is cooler but then I'd be known as the woman who slept in the refectory. I could stay up all night to write poetry about my situation but I am tired. I want to sleep.


If anyone asks you how I am, tell them I'm hot and I can't get to sleep.

Steaming,

St. Casserole

Hello from the Big City!

Every last one of you needs to add coming to the College of Preachers to your list of "things to do". It's lovely here and as comfortable as can be. The meals are fabulous, the rooms comfortable and what-else-can-you-say about living on the grounds of a national cathedral?

This well planned conference is going smoothly. The organizer should be proud of herself. The funding agency did a good thing by underwriting the conference.

But, I am so very hot in this Big City heat that I am ready to fold up into a ball and jump into the ice maker. Hogwarts isn't hot necessarily but it is not as air conditioned as we are on the Gulf Coast. I sleep with a fan blasting towards me. The rest of my day I prowl around looking for a/c vents and cups of ice.

The conference is going on as I write this. I found this nook with cold air and cannot tear myself away to return to a beautiful room filled with people where I become so warm I feel ill.

Thank goodness there is a slight flaw to being here or I wouldn't return home.

Y'all doing OK where you are?,

St. Casserole

Oh! What a beautiful place this is!

Having a great time!

More later,

St. Casserole

I leave before 6am. tomorrow to make my way up the East Coast to Washington. You can't get anywhere from I live. All trips are arduous.

I'm going to the Young Clergywoman's Project at the College of Preachers. I told my congregation about the Project and my participation in it. They applauded me!

I'm thrilled to be attending.

I am trying to be brave.

Leaving home in August, during Hurricane Season, isn't something I do. Last time I traveled in August (to go to the Presbyterian Heaven in Western North Carolina) was in about 1989. A hurricane threatened and I was too far away to get home, with a baby along, to secure our home. I get very testy about how Mr. C. turns off the lights and shuts the door for hurricane prep. I do all sorts of lengthy arrangements: prescriptions filled? food bought? cat/dogs all arranged? house inventory photographed? insurance papers handy? yard/pool furniture secured? etc etc etc etc. It saves my emotions to be at home getting ready.

However, my joy about being with friends at the YCP tipped the balance towards being brave and heading to Washington.

I hope to see you there.

Look for me. I'll be the dour short clergywoman wearing sensible shoes and the Tonette Perm hairdo. Sorta like Delores Umbridge but without so much pink.

Yours,

St. Casserole

School starts today. Amazing, isn't it? August 3???
How can the end of summer vacation be this early? Our district plans for hurricane days to intefere with the mandated number of school days.

I fuss every year about having to end my time with the children so soon.
LS returns to university in two weeks. It's time for him to go back because he is the expert in everything without grace or patience unless it concerns him. He needs to be with his peers to allow his parents some quiet peace.

Ah! But has this been the sweetest summer with LD? Oh, yes!
Who knew that a 15 year old girl could be the happiest company I could wish for?

In a Praise Report, under Will Wonders Never Cease, I testify that she wanted: a pair of my shoes, two purses and two necklaces for her closet! Unbelievable that Miss 15 considered my stuff for her own.

Here's the funniest part:

SHE WENT OUT THE DOOR WITH HER COFFEE IN MY REVGALBLOGPALS MUG!

Excuse me while I go howl with laughter and irony....

Yours,

St. Casserole

Pickin' n Choosin'

Not surprisingly, we don't fit in everywhere we go. We don't belong in some groups, other groups don't suit us and finally, isn't this the age when we can pick and choose where we wish to place our time and energies?

Churches are like this. People come and go through the membership without much trouble. Don't like the Preacher? Move to another church. Gotta beef with the music, go find another place to worship.

While we may bemoan the light-handed move from church to church, or how we move from belief system to belief system, we are a marketplace kind of people. We follow our preferences. We find those who are like us and who like us.

When the Kingdom comes, we will all be at the Table together. Differences and preferences will not matter. All those who love Christ will be one.

Until that time, let's remember that while everyone should be people like us, people aren't just like us.

In the best possible world, we would learn the discipline of belonging regardless of how we feel about the preacher, the music or the congregation. We'd decide that the Body of Christ where we were was where we needed to be. We'd work out the differences by committing ourselves to loving anyway, being a person of peace anyway.

No one wants to hear this. Our desire for self-fulfillment and comfort overcomes us.

I am sure that you have valid reasons for why you choose a homogenus life.

Looking at the bottom of my flip-flop,

St. Casserole

Here's the view we saw Sunday afternoon of the Pass Christian harbor.
We drove along the beach highway to the new BSL bridge. It's durn remarkable to see this giant bridge re-built in less than two years. Two more lanes will open in the coming months. BSL shows areas of recovery, then places so pitiful that you wonder how the residents can stand living there.*

We stopped at the Mockingbird Cafe for a sandwich but the kitchen closed earlier in the afternoon. I stared at the table where I sat with Songbird when she visited. Outside on the porch, I looked at the will smama table confused that someone else sat there. Go home and get your own table! That one is the will smama table, girlfriend!

Traveling back toward home, we stopped at Shaggy's in Pass Christian. Sitting on the breezy deck beach side while listening to music made me feel NORMAL for the first time in months, maybe almost two years.

Look out to the Gulf and the beach, things look normal. Not touched by a killer hurricane. Look to the north and you see signs of ravaged homes, broken riprap and destruction.

Felt like a vacation,

St. Casserole

Lord, give us a full measure of your grace today. Amen.

Blessings to all you Preachers, worshippers and those unable to worship in community.

St.Casserole

Look at this scene from my bookcase. Andy (grey), Whistle and Fish (gingers) and Molly the Berner are all together. I need a Golden Lab like Sister, the Nanny to the Cats to finish the scene.

Oh, rats! I wanted to say something deep and meaningful in case some visitors floated over from the UM publication. Cannot thing of a single weighty thing to say.

St. Casserole

Letters From Readers

Dear St.C,
Hi! Why do you have bandages on your feet? What's with the Barbie bandage on your little toe?
----Concerned

Dear Concerned, If the fire ant bites weren't bad enough, I decided to follow the adage, "if you want to forget about your troubles, wear too small shoes". Those cute sandals, really Cheesehead Worthy Cute, hurt my feet. So, I applied antibiotic cream and bandages. I cannot help it if the smallest bandage turned out to be a pink floral Barbie band aid. Thanks for your concern.

St. Casserole, Sir:
What CHRISTIAN CENTURY article have you most enjoyed, and or been intriqued by in the past two weeks?
----Wondering

Dear Wondering, The 10 July issue by Scott Bader-Saye, "Security Check Does God Protect Us" grabbed my theological and personal ears so that I've read the article three times and am considering adding it to my "Articles for Elders" (where I pass on worthy readings to my leadership).

Dear Rev. Mrs. St. Casserole: Didn't you have two rather large calendar chunks today? Are you sitting at home blogging rather than tending to the Lord's Bidness?
I know it's Summer but are you modeling good use of pastoral time today?
---Righteous and Expecting You to Exibit Righteousness, Too

Dear Righteous, Bingo! Yes, I turned aside today from two worthy activities. I woke up with a Grand Sick Headache which caffine, breakfast, activity and meds could not remove. Feeling that a drive West to one activity and North toward another would make me use all those cute airline barf bags I collect, I stayed home. If you have a problem with my decision, please come closer so I can put an industrial vise on your head while clamping your stomach and making sure you felt like a clammy, pitiful reject from life. Ok?

Thanks for all your letters, folks. That's all for today. Many thanks for the photo of an overburdened Mail Wagon in Cody, Wyoming.

St. Casserole

Fish the Cat is home from the Veterinary. His total hospital stay was one week including two days in Louisiana where he had surgery to repair the fracture in his leg.

The three pins and bone graft need quiet, restrained time to heal. He's in a mid-sized pen in my study. Post-op instructions mean he'll stay in confinement for six weeks. The size of the pen allows his brother, Whistle, to sleep on top of the pen. Whistle likes to be near his brother.

Fish has an Elizabethan collar to protect him from biting his tiny leg staples. He hates it. When I checked on him this morning, he'd pawed the collar off but hadn't taken out stitches.

Fish is eating and drinking just fine. Being confined is not fine.

Thanks to all of you who pray for Fish's healing. He's home, not happy because of the pen, and learning to adjust to life without his cast (4 months!).

Ever the Nurse,

St. Casserole

I Learned Something New Today

I bought Subway sandwiches for lunch today. Not my favorite place to grab a sandwich but a big favorite with Mr. C. and LD.

The manager let the young man making my sandwich that "you put three black olives on a 6" sub; six black olives on a 12" sub".

I love black olives on my Subway sandwich. Often, the black olives are the only ingredient that makes those bland sandwiches taste good to me.

Subway is stingy with black olives and now I know why.

St. Casserole, always learning

I've been preaching for many years. I know more about preaching than I did ten years ago, but I still find the entire process of sermon preparation, exegesis, writing, revisions and delivery mysterious.

There are some Sundays where I am fully with my listeners. They follow my voice so throughly that I am not sure that they breathe. I would never say this about myself if I didn't have many Sundays where I think I have wasted their time and mine by even attempting to proclaim and witness to God's Good News through a sermon.

I moved from a full manuscript in the pulpit to a detailed outline to a shorter outline and then on to five words on a note card before me.

At the past two Festival of Homies, I've noticed that the Big Name Preachers appear to use a full manuscript as they preach.

Considering this a discipline I might want to re-visit, I've preached from a full manuscript last week and today.

I felt constrained. I felt that I was falling for that hubris of loving my own words so much that I had to repeat what I've written rather than respond to the movement of the congregation.

I will use a full manuscript for the next two Sundays to see what I think about this process.

It would help if the congregation gave me any feedback at all about the last two sermons. They didn't say anything about the delivery but, as they graciously do, either asked more about a certain point or commented on an illustration.

I'm going to the Young Clergy Woman's Conference next month at the College of Preachers in Washington, D.C. I will keep my ears open for how I may evaluate my sermons to improve as a preacher. I'm reading Anna Carter Florence's new book, too, in preparation.

Despite the frustration of never feeling that I am a good enough preacher, I do like the mystery of preaching itself. One never seems to master it. There is no perfection or ending of one's abilities to talk about God through a sermon. I like this.

Looking at the picture of me illustrating this post, do you think I need a haircut?

Peace to You,

St. Casserole

P.S. If any of you wisegals make a crack about my attendance at a Young Clergy Women's Event, I'll.... well, I'll... OH RATS JUST DON'T MENTION IT TO ME, OK?

I promised myself I'd be finished with my sermon (Mary and Martha. Again? So soon after the last time???), worship bulletin and prayers so I can stop everything when the truck arrives with the new Harry Potter book.

Instead, I'm looking around at a messy house wondering where to find a shovel to clean up the junk.

Not sure what to do with myself today.

St. C.

Happy Anniversary, RevGalBlogPals!

Today is our second Anniversary! Go celebrate with us at www.revgalblogpals.blogspot.com.

St. Casserole

P.S. For those wanting an update on Fish's health, go to Whistle's blog at www.catzandbestof.blogspot.com.

Please Explain This To Me...

Using simple words and speaking in a slow tempo, help me understand this:

Ruth Gledhill - Times Online - WBLG: Let women give birth to human-animals say Catholic bishops

What?,

St. Casserole

Two things:

a. Internet access is sketchy. Third world country areas lose access when it rains.

b. Fish is in Louisiana facing having crossed pins put in his fractured leg along with bone grafts to help him heal. He left today. I'm praying for him, the surgeon and all hurt animals everywhere.

c. I can't check my email, so if you've sent me a message, I haven't gotten it.

Yours,

St. Casserole

All day long, I heard people talking:

my son waking up angry and loud
my husband talking
the Church School class talking
the visitor who got tangled up when he realized I was the Preacher not the pianist
the sound of my voice as I preached from a full manuscript
my daughter snapping an answer at me
the sounds on Weekend Edition NPR of women musicians from Detroit with their raspy voices
the woman at the Bookstore saying to her man, "No! I'm not buying a comic book for you, not for a 25 year old man!"

Enough,

St. Casserole

busy all day long. tired now. ready for tomorrow. whew!

St. C.

Rainy afternoon here. Hot as fire outside but becoming cooler as the rain hits the steamy earth.

Thank you, God, for Wendell Berry, W.H. Auden and Mary Oliver. Their work comforts me as I sit inside today.

Yours,

St. Casserole

How I Feel About Dillard's

A tiny blurb in the Construction Permit section of the local paper says that http://www.dillards.com/index.html is doing 15M in repairs on the hurricane damaged store here. Great.

Dillard's is an o.k. department store. It carries a few nicer brands that we are unable to get down here, pre- or post-hurricane. To find Cole-Haan, Eileen Fisher or a big cosmetics counter, I went to Dillards.

I'm angry with Dillard's. It's been almost two years since Katrina. The big store was damaged. Do you think that Dillard's had the marketing sense to contact it's Gulf Coast customers? Nope. Nada. Why haven't they attempted to keep our loyalty or interest? Did they send updates on their rebuilding progress? No way.

We Gulf Coast customers are nothing to Dillard's. Otherwise, the store would have reached out to us with coupons to use in Mobile, Jackson, etc. or contacted us about SOMETHING.

On the way to Atlanta, I stopped at the Oxford, Al. Quintard Mall Dillard's. This was early in the day on Monday. A good saleswoman helped me in the Eileen Fisher section. Later, I stopped at another Dillard's, right off 1-20 or 1-85 (can't recall), and wandered through the shoe department. No one spoke to me the entire time I shopped.

When the 15M Dillard's opens, I'll think long and hard about shopping there.

St. Casserole

P.S. Perhaps this dept. store rant has no place on a wildly serious blog like mine, but SOMEBODY should tell Dillard's that they are careless with customer loyalty. So, I just did.

Tired but Happy

Great drive home from Atlanta today! No rain, clear roads and several audio books kept me awake. Those young RevGals stay up LATE! Late, I tell you!

The Big Event planning team worked hard to get our ducks in a row for an event next year. The RGBP Board met to handle bidness (Southern for "business").

I loved seeing my RevGals. Great, loving group!

Glad to be home. Glad I stopped listening to Dean Koontz's FACE audio book. Ewwwww, such cruelty and meanness in his stories. An Anne Tyler book kept me company for hours. Can't even recall what the title of the book is.

Worn-out and Happy,

St. Casserole

Having a wonderful time with the RevGals in the Atlanta area.

So busy laughing, I can't write more,

St. Casserole

Why I Live Here

I live here because:

Mr. C. grew up here. I crack up every time I hear one of his old friends call him by his childhood nickname.

Women dress up cement goose statues with Lil costumes. They compete over whose goose has the cutest outfit.

Our children learned to sail here.

I can see the Gulf of Mexico everyday.

All parts of this community need good, insightful, honest help to improve.

I grow tropical plants, almost year round.

I can smell salt air when I step outside. I hear seagulls sing often enough that I don't notice them. Pelicans fly in formation overhead.

This state has the worst health and education statistics in the nation. As I said, every area of the community needs help. We don't run out of necessary things to do.

Mr. C. lives here.


Just thinking about my blessings,

St. Casserole

Remembering Rusty 1986-2005

Rusty, that great ginger cat, died two years ago today. His obituary appears here

LD and I took donations to the Humane Society in Rusty's memory this afternoon.

His gravesite is a sunflower bed now underneath the bird feeders.

I'm thankful I had him as my cat.

Just Remembering,

St. Casserole

I Can't Believe Someone Would Hurt My Friend!

My friend is hurting. I can't stand it!

I'm praying. Please pray, too.

St. Casserole

Whistle looks out the window. Sister looks at the camera. Fish hides under the covers.

This is life at my home today.

Come on over!

St. Casserole

And now, a few house-keeping details...

Krylon H20 spray latex is drippy, stinky mess. I bought it, on sale, instead of the greatest spray paint for outdoor wood, wicker and metal: Rust-oleum American Accents spray paint. The small wood table looks terrible with this paint!

This time next week? I'll be away from laundry, cooking and hurricane debris. My major responsibilities will be to hold the President's purse and share creative ideas with the group.

How hot is it? A dense wool rug, soaking wet, dried in my court yard in about 7 hours. I live in high humidity country so I'm surprised.

Is it going to rain? Yes, any minute the dark skies will open to soak us.

Meow,

St. Casserole

Yes!

Top Ten Things Pastors Long to Hear

Ruth A. Tucker, Left Behind in a Megachurch World (Baker), is quoted in the June 26 issue of the Christian Century magazine. Her list includes, "#4 Do you mind if I bring all the ladies in my garden club to church next Sunday?".

Heres my list:
1. Mrs. White and I want to come to your house this week and do some yardwork. Do you mind if I bring Uncle Peter who taught Norm Abrams everything Norm knows about carpentry with us? He'd love to do some fix-it projects.

2. We're concerned about all this talk about other denominations. Let's have a festival celebrating the great mission work of the P.C. (U.S.A.) Our committee wants to organize it. You just show up, ok?

3. I've scheduled the music until next March for worship services. Do you mind if we have guests from the Met Opera, Allison Kraus's people and some others as special guests? They want to come worship with us.

4. I hope you don't mind but I sent several of your sermons to John Knox Press and they say they want to publish them along with your essays.

5. I think we need to schedule new member classes more often. We've got a long backlog of people wanting to join the church. Same with baptisms.

6. I want to help you with your vestments. Could you give me a list of things you might enjoy? Could I donate liturgical pieces for the sanctuary too?

7. Your sermons make me think. Could you make your sermons longer?

8. Have you lost weight?

Readers, do you mind finishing my list?

Lovingly,

St. Casserole