It's an honest question

The Pater Familias (down there in the ages of ages,
Amen)
was a traditionalist, so it is told;

first, meting out with Lawful precision

and grudging exactitude

a holocaust to the local Baal,

appeasing some ancient superstition;

and after

he went out and built his cities

and though some turned to ruin and dust

or were flooded out of existence

he laid in the foundation 

for us 

with hard work and toil.

Building up city after city in a new country,

in another age,

with comely temples

and practical dwellings,

right up until, 

until his house fell in on his head.

Fifty-five generations hence,

went out and 

into harlots,

toiling upon an unforgiving Earth. 

Raising up the requisite altars 

with even more miserable results.

Each generation having raised up a would-be hero

(a real nutter by any realist’s estimation),

who cried us out of one country into the promise of rest.

Still and all,

Our People knew the score-

we bore the mark right on our bones.

We built the booths,

raised the altars,

turned up the earth

and wept bitter tears back in.

So when this young upstart 

gave up the ghost,

called my bluff,

wept on Your breast,

received in Your embrace-

How could I not turn it back on You?

Listen! You’ve done it all wrong!

I was first and I gave You Your due.

and what hell did it get me, anyway?

Not so much as one single roast kid for my pleasure.

I can’t give up now.

I can’t be fooled.

I’ll take my certain toil over this mytho-mystical rest.

You keep your peace; take it with You when You go.

Marshmallows

Marshmallows are easy and fun to make and require just a few ingredients that can hang around your cabinets more or less indefinitely. I first made these confections in 2003, when I hosted my very first Christmas party.  We had an ornament exchange.  I made brie en croute, a rustic pate from chicken livers, cream and cognac, real eggnog, and Modjeskas.

What is a modjeska?  It is a wonderful caramel wrapped marshmallow named for the Polish Shakespearean actress, Helena Modjeska.  She was so captivating that Willa Cather, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, and Susan Sontag all wrote about her.  Helena's goddaughter Ethel Barrymore is Drew Barrymore's great aunt.

At one point during the party, an old mentor pulled me aside to express how dull it must be to be a homemaker.  Having nothing else to say, I unwrapped the candies as he spoke in increasing bewilderment and alarm regarding the state of affairs of my life (wed to a gainfully employed, doting husband with two children and one on the way).  When he paused to take a breath I popped the candy into his mouth.  I don't remember much about what passed next, but I do remember this guest ate every single candy in the cut glass bowl on the buffet table after his first taste.

This is a fun recipe to do with children.  It's science and a craft project rolled into one.  To celebrate a decade of my making these treats, I wanted to give you my recipe for Modjeskas.

Modjeskas take two recipes, requiring about 30 minutes apiece.  The marshmallows need time to cure so we will start with those first.

The Marshmallows

In the bowl of a stand mixer (fitted with a balloon whisk):

1/2 cup of cold water + 3 tablespoons of gelatin 
Do not mix. Allow the gelatin to bloom.

In a large sauce pan:

3/4 cups of light corn syrup + 2 cups sugar + 1/2 cup of water

Put together in a large sauce pan. Do not stir. Turn on medium high heat and cook until 238℉-240℉ on a candy thermometer.  

With your mixer running on low, carefully pour in the sugar syrup. Let it run for a minute and then gradually raise the speed of the mixer until it is on high. 

1 tablespoon of your best vanilla 

Beat the marshmallow until the bowl is barely warm to the touchand the marshmallow is shiny.  Pour into a oiled Pyrex dish.  Let stand for at least 3 hours.  Cut into squares and dust with confectioner's sugar.  Store in an airtight container.  They will keep for about 3 days.

The Caramel

In a large heavy bottom pot place:

2 cups of sugar + 1 cup of light corn syrup 

Without stirring, boil the sugar and syrup until it reaches 254℉ on a candy thermometer.  

Add:

2 sticks of unsalted sweet butter

Keep the syrup boiling as you stir in the butter until it is completely melted.

Add a little bit at a time:

2 cups + 2 tablespoons of heavy whipping cream

Keep the syrup at a rolling boil and just keep stirring. 

 Add:

a pinch of baking soda + 1 tablespoon of good vanilla

The syrup will foam mightily at the point.  Keep the syrup boiling until it reaches 237℉ on a candy thermometer.  Pour into a buttered pan without scraping the sides of the pot.

Allow to cool until you can handle it.  Cut it into 1 inch squares and wrap around marshmallows.  Wrap the individual candies in parchment or wax paper.

These are a crowd pleaser.  Your family will love them and they make wonderful lagniappes and gifts for anyone who happens by.  Please enjoy!

 

 

Bright Week Chocolate Filled Brioche

Christ IS Risen!  Indeed, He is Risen!

I made these chocolate filled brioche rolls.  We always put up a typical Russyn Pascha Basket and this year, I made sure to put in plenty of butter for our Bright Week use.  It's my favorite thing, a little reminder that we're celebrating Jesus's Resurrection after three days in the tomb.  So for example that's not just buttered toast, now it's the Toast of the Feast of the Resurrection!

There is a slightly more complicated way and an easy way to make these rolls, I will leave it up to you to decide how you want to proceed.  I like to go slow when I bake.  So the steps take five minutes or so at a time across a couple or three days.  If you make kefir, this is a great way to use it, especially if it over-ferments.  If you don't make kefir use buttermilk, sour milk, yogurt (not low fat), whey, or even the store bought kefir.  Use what you have and don't worry about it.  If you don't have sourdough starter banging around on your counter, the simplest thing to for this recipe would be to fake it with some yeast, flour, and water (¼ tsp. yeast, ⅔ cup flour, ⅓ cup water) and to leave on the counter overnight or all day before you mix the dough.

Another think I like is accuracy, so I use my scale a lot when I bake, but you don't have to.  I have included volumetric measurements for your convenience.  Last tip:  bread raising is best when you can keep it loosely covered.  Shower caps are awesome for that.

buns in the oven

For the Sponge:

7 ounces (1 cup) active (i.e. revived and ready) sourdough starter 
(or fake it with ¼ tsp. yeast, ⅔ cup flour, ⅓ cup water left overnight or 8 hours)
8 ounces (1 cup) kefir or sour milk, room temperature
4.5 ounces (1 cup) unbleached all-purpose flour
(if you fake it add a ½ teaspoon instant yeast)
For the Dough

13.5 ounces (3 cups) unbleached all-purpose flour
1.5 ounces (3 tablespoons) granulated sugar
1 1/2 teaspoons salt
2 teaspoons instant yeast
3 large eggs, room temperature
6 ounces (3/4 cup) soft butter
1 tablespoon vanilla extract


For the Filling:

7 ounces good dark chocolate, chopped

For the Shining Crust:

One egg blended with 
2 tablespoons of water

Mix the sponge and set it aside for 2-4 hours until doubled.

To the sponge add the remainder of the ingredients for the dough and mix on low in the bowl of your mixer. once all the ingredients are incorporated let the mixer knead the dough for 5 minutes on medium speed (or mix by hand and knead the dough for 15 minutes).  The dough should be soft, a little sticky, but should all stay together.  Roll into a large ball and put in a clean bowl.  Cover and put in the fridge overnight.

The next day:  take the dough out of the fridge and let it stand on the counter for 2 hours or so (not more than 4 hours).  Roll out ½ inch thick in a rectangle.  leaving a 1 inch margin all the way around, sprinkle the rectangle with the chocolate.  From the long side roll the dough into a long log. 

For buns:  Butter a  regular muffin pan every other hole (so six per pan).  Take 1 inch slices of rolled dough and put them in the muffin pan.  Cover loosely and let rise 1 hour or until doubled.  Using a pastry brush, brush egg yolk all over the tops of the dough.  Bake at 375ºF for 25-30 minutes.  Check with an instant read thermometer to make sure they are done (with an internal temperature of 200ºF).  Mine were done after 25 minutes.

intant read thermometers are your friend when you bake.

For a loaf:  This recipe will make 2 loaves.  Butter a loaf pan. Place the roll in the pan and cover.  Let rise for 2 hours or until doubled.  Brush with the egg wash.  Bake at 350ºF for 35-45 minutes.  Check with an instant read thermometer to make sure they are done (with an internal temperature of 200ºF).  Mine was done after 42 minutes.

Remove to a cooling rack.  Share. Eat. Enjoy.  

So we found some frog eggs in a big puddle that some ducks splash in.  Ducks are good foragers and scavengers and will eat just about anything they find.  Frogs, tadpoles, and most certainly frog caviar are on the most choice of duck menus.   So the next day we returned with a container and a net to scoop them up and we brought them home.

We have been monitoring their growth daily and surprisingly they have been very easy to raise.  They hatched after just a couple of day, slipping free of their slimy bonds, looking like dormant little black rectangles.  Day-by-day they have grown, their various stages and structures surprisingly evident to the naked eye.  We transferred them to an aquarium and as of today they have a distinct head, external gill, and tail.  They hold onto vegetation with a sucker.

Training the little children to keep their fingers and other objects out of the tank is a slight challenge, but they are handling it well so far.

Clucky Business

I wish I had taken my camera out to take pictures of our growing little menagerie.  The chickens are a constant source of entertainment.  I have stood and watched them without another thought in mind except to observe their constant comings and goings.  For me, they are a joy.  

We live in a place where fences are considered rude and suspicious (it's a weird little place this town).  And for most of the last eight seasons we have managed without one.  With regard to Las Gallinas is that their coop is out in the open for all to see.  This has led to some wonderful and less than wonderful events.  First the wonderful:  I speak with some neighbor or two every day now.  Before the ladies arrived in their stylish coop, I cannot remember the last time I spoke with my neighbors in passing.  This has as much to do with me as it does with them.  I admit it.  I was hiding out.  Now that I am the only person amongst 800 souls rearing hens, it will take some schmoozing to unruffle those neighborhood feathers.

We actually have a regular Lenten act of kindness.  Okay, it isn't perfect because it is a little self-serving, but we started.  We like it doing it and we will continue.  What is it?  Well, I take some children and a full basket of eggs door-to-door and we share our bounty of cackleberries.  I am able to discuss the legal aspects of chicken keeping along with meeting new people and hearing their stories.  Sometimes I will have a 5 minute exchange, sometimes it is 30 minutes.  It is wonderful to hear who raised birds of their own growing up and who was chased by their rooster.  One neighbor told me a story about how when she and her husband lived in a Pittsburgh apartment they ordered 10 geese for Easter from a hatchery.  She would raise them until they feathered out and then donate them to a local man who raised the birds for meat and eggs (that's a pretty sweet deal for him).  Anyway, that year the hatchery first sent out 24 straight run day old chicks, which they wouldn't allow her to return.  They followed this with 10 ducklings and 10 goslings.  She said their were birds in the bathtub, on the balcony, and in the living room.  And then at 4 weeks, it turned out her straight run chicks were actually all ROOSTERS and they all started to crow.  I can't even imagine.  Eventually, she donated everyone to a local petting zoo.  And not surprisingly, she has not ordered any birds since.

The not so wonderful thing is that we have one neighbor who has resorted to calling anyone and everyone about the chickens.  Her complaining has been fairly frustrating and shrill, but what are you going to do?  Not everyone loves you all the time.

Pictures next time and more news.  More stories if I get them.  I know this was boring.  Thanks for hanging in there.
 

Catching Up

In two years a lot can change. It did and did not.

We are still here at the Little House on the Hill.  Johnstown is still culturally a challenging place to live.  Friends have described it as, 'the grey valley' (it is), and also as 'a valley full of Eeyore's' (stunningly accurate observation, Scot).

Anyway, it occurs to me that this prospective vocation of Mr. Flavius will see plenty of grey valleys and too many Eeyores worth counting. Working for the church isn't all incense and rose windows.  If I am not prepared to accept that then I would be quite naive.  Johnstown has a had several hard and challenging lessons, but the area has some silver linings.

The ACROD got a new bishop.  Bishop Gregory is a warm man with a heart for the church and her people.  New to the CR bunch is more rigorous fasting.  Don't ask me why I am excited about asceticism and bland diets, but it gets me all choked up to see fasting ratatouille recipes in the Cathedral bulletin.

I was pregnant in December and January.  We don't know why, but the baby died.  We did not know that he had died, but I had had some clues that all was not well with this pregnancy.  I wasn't tired particularly.  I had no morning sickness.  These are pretty bad signs as far as pregnancies go. For some reason, new life cannot come into this world absent a state of near narcolepsy and near hyperemesis gravidarum.  I need to quit discussing potential medical events with my father.  Last time I joked about breaking my leg, I did.  A day or two before the miscarriage began, I told him I wasn't entirely certain this pregnancy was going to "stick."  Though, at the time it wasn't a sad thought, just a possibility on a list of possibilities that never really seemed plausible despite at my utterance.

It took about a a day and a half.  And the first half, I would have fleeting thoughts that I was in labor, but that didn't seem real, so I dismissed it until I saw the blood.  And then it wasn't one or two, but three trips to the Emergency Room before I was admitted, but I was in shock having lost too much blood, and in a dangerous way.  "You need emergency surgery," they said. And then the priest came and anointed me with oil from the vigil lamp of St. John Maxomovitch.  And the doctor came back and said, "Your hemorrhage has stopped. You can go."  Daughter, your faith has healed you.  Go in peace and be well from your suffering.  

For forty days, I drowned in grief and depression.  Then repentance and the memorial and relief.  The pall passed, I did not die with my son, I did not drown utterly in my depression, I was not abandoned though maybe at times I wanted to be.  There are still tears, but there is also joy.  The memorial was a bitter-sweet celebration.  And we did celebrate.  In prayer and with feasting.  And I was able to say, Christ is risen and have JOY.  Nothing could have been more shocking or more natural.  Funny, how these things happen.  God is great.

In other news, we have added a few creatures to Little House on the Hill Homestead.  A couple of American Blue Rabbit does have joined the family and as of yesterday a small flock five of Rhode Island Red hens.  The plan is to breed the rabbits in May.  American Blue Rabbits are the rarest of the American breeds and included in the American Livestock Breed Conservancy program. They were recently upgraded to Threatened which is good.  They are primarily a meat and fur breed, but have very sweet dispositions and are very good mothers.  They are a large breed rabbit, which for our tumble bumble family is a good thing.  I am loving having the girls.  I am having rabbit dinner dreams.

 The hens, of course, just do their chicken thing.  I am super happy to say they are doing great, laying an egg each a day (which is really something).  I bought started pullets (for an unbelievable $5 apiece.  Thank you, Lord) and as luck would have it they just started laying this week.  Of course, I just checked on them and the birdbrains are all roosted under the coop like a bunch of idiots.  It is, of course, snowing.  At some point they will figure out it is warm and dry IN the coop.

We've had a bunch of birthdays.  We've made some friends.  We have had heartache and doubt.  We have cursed this place, each other, the discernment process.  I am pretty homesick these days.  I miss our parish and our family and all our friends.  But, most importantly, we are still here, Dammit.  Virtuti Moena Cedant.  The family motto isn't wasted on this bunch.  Just taking things one day at a time.

Ramblings and Nopalitos

Hi.
I'm back.  Sort of.  We'll see.


Let's talk about the eating part of Lent.  Lent is not actually about food, but for all practical purposes it may sometimes seem like it is about food.  I know that doesn't make a lot of sense, but if you are an Orthodox Christian you will understand what I mean.

Now if we were fasting perfectly, we would be eating (or not eating in some instances) small simple meals of essentially nutmeats and dried fruits or raw fruits or vegetables and bread and praying and acting in love towards our neighbors.  Evagrius said that one of the Fathers used to say, “Eat a little without irregularity; if charity is joined to this, it leads the monk rapidly to the threshold of apatheia [apatheia is defined as “the state of being unmoved by passion; this involves control of the passions rather than their destruction.”] (#6, p. 64) See?  Not about food.

The problem is I am not a desert mother.  And neither are my kids.  Worse, I am not even shooting for desert parenthood status.  I'm just trying to make it to bedtime.

Without crowing about it, we try to keep the fast, even with the kids.  I do keep milk in the fridge, but we keep the meals fast-worthy.  

When we lived in Texas, my favorite lenten addition was cactus or nopales.  Of course, Johnstown, Pennsylvania has little in the way of Latin American immigrants and therefore no cactus leaves.  Or so I thought.  

You see, one day I visited our local Big Bird Supermarket and used the self-checkout.  All I needed was some celery, but alas it lacked the appropriate UPC code (94070).  So I scrolled through the directory and lo! there they were.  Opuntia ficus-indica..  Now, the rule at the local Big Bird is:  if it is on their list, they can get it.  And that is true, but first you have to convince some one that you actually want it, that you are willing to buy the entire box.  Second, that you really want it and that you are willing to pay for the whole, entire box.  Annnnnnd finally that you really want it and you are willing to buy the whole, entire, 10+ pound box.  At retail.  THE WHOLE THING.  JUST GIMME THE BOX!!  JUST ORDER IT AND I WILL BUY IT! AAAAAAARRRRRRRRGH!!!!

Excuse me.  Sorry.  It was an ordeal, but I never really understood why.

Anyway, I've been chatting up these South of the Border treats quite a bit on The Social Network and it occurred to me that unless you have some sort of Latino connection, preparing this suckers might be a thorny situation. Heh.

How to Pick 'Em
So if you have seen these babies hanging around your local fruit-stand this is what to look for:  young pads, the size of your hand or smaller.  They should look green (like lettuce), firm, crisp, and succulent (since Optunia are after all succulents).  The fewer the spines the better.  And believe it or not, there are spineless varieties.   Rejoice if you find them.  Cactus leaves will keep in the fridge about a week.





How to Prepare Them
Obviously you do not want a mouth full of spines.  Or a hand full of spines for that matter.  It hurts like the dickens, for starters, and it takes days to get those near invisible red spines out of your fingers.  I use a razor sharp paring knife and a quart size freezer bag as my glove.  This way I can quickly clean and cut each pad down to size.  It helps if they are cold.  So 'glove' your holding hand with the baggie taking the knife trim the edges of all their spines.  Then holding the pad flat to the cutting board, scrape or slice off those spines with your super sharp paring knife.  Trim the stem end.  Rinse and repeat with the rest of the leaves.  When you have completed your task slice the leaves into ½" squares (nopalitos) or you can leave them whole as your recipe requires.  

How to Cook Them
Depending on the recipe you choose there are several options:  parboil, sauté, roast, or grill.  For Lenten, oil free preparations, parboiling is best.  Slice a little onion, crush a garlic clove, add the nopalitos, cover with water and boil for about 3 or 4 minutes.  DO NOT OVERCOOK IT.  It will be a slimy mess.  My favorite preparation with parboiled napoles is Nopales Salad.  Nothing could be more simple.  Dice some tomatoes, a little onion and garlic, either some jalepeño or dried red chile flakes, and some cilantro.  What can you put this on?  What can't you put it on?  Today I sautéed boiled potatoes and beans with some of this delightful ensalada and served these as tacos.  Over some steamed squash (particularly this guy).  Garnish soups with it or some vegan enchiladas.  

¡Buen provecho!

Still not convinced?  They taste like zippy-tangy green beans.
 Live a little, amigo!  Try it; you'll like it. 

Happy Labor Day!

"Look at your hands," he said.

He told us of the times past when our forebears, many of whom were newly emigrated to this land or were the first generation born of immigrant parents, worked the farms, steel mills, in textiles, on rigs, criss crossing this country working hard to provide from their family too proud to take a government handout.  He spoke of his father-in-law, who built his family's home. He kept a meticulous log of all his efforts.  On each and every week he wrote this entry:  

SUNDAY

NO WORK

"No matter what happened or did not happen during that week- Sunday was the Lord's day."

Our grandparents kept the Sabbath holy by not working.  If you read the Little House Books, you know that this was not some habit brought over by pious Catholic and Orthodox immigrants.  This was the way it was.  No work, no play.  Go to church, pray, read your bible.

"What have we permitted?  How could we allow this to happen?" he exclaimed.

It is not hard to see the signs of work, no matter how short your journey to church is.  Clothes swaying in the wind and the perfume of clothes drying in the dryer, bubbles floating on the breeze from a car being washed up the street, the sound of whirring lawn mowers and trimmers, not to mention people who go to jobs on Sunday.  How many people who work all week use their one day off to clean house or host guests or cook a huge Sunday dinner?  What are we doing?

"Look at your hands, " he said again.  "These are the hands that do God's work."  Be they the hands of a mother or a engineer or a carpenter, these hands do God's work and God rested on the Sabbath.  Did you know that the neither the Amish or Orthodox Jewish women do any work on the Sabbath (granted these are different days).  All of the housekeeping, food preparation, laundry, everything that can be done is done the day before so that as much as possible these woman can spend their time in the worship and in prayer and resting in the Lord.  

With seven children this is something I am really bad about doing.  I can always find work.  Yesterday I hung two loads of laundry on the line before church and cooked a massive lunch after.  I am more often than not more tired on Sunday than I am at the end of a long week.  Even though we call it a family day, we often spend a fair amount of time doing chores instead of communing together.  It is time to stop-- to take the rest the Lord commanded for every week, not just one day a year.  

All of this talk about work reminded me of a funny story about my good friend, Mandy's, great-grandmother.  After her granddaughter married and had her first child, three generation of the family's women came together to see the new baby.  A young Marynell began to tell her grandmother of the wonderful gift from her husband, a new washer and dryer set.  She explained that she could finish all the laundry in just a couple hours.  Her grandmother was stunned by this information.  She sat silently for a second and then finally asked, "But what will you do all day?"

Yes, it is true that I will work today as I have worked every other day for more than a decade, but it is also true that it is time to reclaim the original labor day.  It is time to rest on the Lord's Sabbath.

Big Bottom Girls Make the Rockin' World Go 'Round

and the same is true for Johnstown apparently.

Johnstown, and its inhabitants as I have said have there very own breed of charm.  For instance,  down South, church ladies and other strangers will readily compliment a new baby.  If, for instance, the baby has a particularly prominent feature like big eyes or chubby thighs, it is not unusual for one to hear exclaimed, "those eyes!"  Or, "look at those thighs!  What a cutie!"

This is what you hear in Johnstown, PA.

"Look at that baby!  Looks like she has a chew in each cheek!"

Down South, a man upon seeing a girl he admires might chance a low whistle or a wink or a smile and tip of his hat.  In Johnstown, they aren't shy about giving compliments.  For instance, on my way to Downtown Johnstown's landmark eatery  Coney Island Lunch, I was told by a passerby, "Hey, you'd make the perfect, plus-sized model, lady."

Let's just say, I laughed out loud for a good ten minutes.

What a weird, great, little place.

Seven Quick Takes:

1. The eldest five children begin school the day after tomorrow.  Mr. Flavius and I are sicker than dogs.  I am feeling a little out matched with all there is to do before I shuffle them out the door into a new routine.  Spending most of the mornings stuffed into bed coughing and feeling miserable doesn't help.
2. My sister-in-law is making the journey to visit us.  This will be our first guest.  In 12 years of homeownership, we've only had 2 overnight stays.  We have four sets of guest between now and Christmas (that I know about).  I am very much looking forward to her visit, but I am on a strict all work and no play schedule between now and her visit in a week and a half.
3. House blessing.  Still working on making a path so that Fr. Nick can bless and sprinkle away with abandon without breaking his neck.
4. On Friday, the kids and I went garage saling.  Johnstown has great sales.  I guess this is one of the secret upsides to a greying community.  We found several good pen knives, a very good pair of Korean War era binoculars from Japan, some fabulous costume jewelry, and some beautiful perfume bottles that I did not buy, but wanted to very much.  Driving through the twists and turns we came upon a huge Chicken of the Woods mushroom growing on a maple tree along side a driveway.  The man very generously gave us the behemoth and many pears.  It's going in an omelet first chance I get.
5. Mr. Flavius began classes today.  No one died.  I think that I will be okay while he is away.  I've had my doubts, but really it will be fine.
6. I am scouting jars for putting up strawberry and violet leaves for healing herbal teas for this winter.  Also, we have been offered as many Concord grapes as we can pick.  I cannot decide if I should put up juice or make jelly or what all I could possibly do with such a generous gift.  I'm sure the children will assist me in the endeavor.  Also, these are the last few weeks for local tomatoes and cucumbers and it really is time to start the sauerkraut too....  So much to do!
7. I am coming up with my Autumnal List of things to break up the monotony of everyday homemaking.  So far soap making, sausage making, crocheting, and canning autumn fruits figure high on the list.  We hope to add a fence, a coop, and a bee hive to the yard by next Spring.  Lots to do and keep busy.

A Joyous Feast!

From the Forefeast of the Dormition of the Theotokos:

Dance with joy, O peoples!

Clap your hands with gladness!

Gather today with fervor and jubilation;

Sing with exultation.

The Mother of God is about to rise in glory,

Ascending from earth to heaven.

We ceaselessly praise her in song as truly Theotokos.

Today the universe dances with joy at your glorious memorial,

And cries out to you, O Mother of God:

"Rejoice, O Virgin, pride of Christians!"

The Real Reason We Are Here

Earthquake Jottings

I cannot speak for the rest of the blog, but this cracked me up.  From doylez.com:

earthquake on the east coast

it’s funny to us how the east coast folks responded to a magnitude 5.8 earthquake the other day, since us californians probably wouldn’t even notice such a temblor while going about our daily lives. but some east coast folks got a little ticked that we are making fun of them and one of them responded with this:

touché

The State of Customer Service

The state of customer service varies in Johnstown in much the same way that it does everywhere based on the business, gender, age, etc. of the person you are dealing with.  It can be as individual as the individual you are dealing with.  So thus far, I have been pleasantly pleased by my day-to-day dealings with Yankees.

That said, there is always the exception that proves the rule.  You see, we have no official parking at our new house.  I have been hoping to remedy this situation sooner than later, but I am not having a lot of luck.  We have been trying to get an estimate for a carport from one contractor in particular since June.  As it is now August and I still do not have an estimate for what I've asked for, you might understand why I am a bit frustrated.  Today, the contractor's secretary and I had a conversation during which I began to hope that I might just stroke out rather than continue.  Needless to say, I am still looking for a contractor for my "simple" job.  Pray for me and anyone else that might cross my path, please.

We Had An Earthquake.

SO, Mr. Flavius has a favorite story he likes to tell about me.

Once upon a time in a land far, far away the Motherworks-Flavius household visited the Southern Flavius's.  A riotously good time was had by all and everyone played until they were very tired and prone to being naughty.

All of the grownups in the land were also tired and to avoid being too grumpy sent the children away to their chambers for some peace and quiet.  Only the children were very naughty and and very noisy.  They stomped and the shouted and they dropped heavy things from high places until the whole house shook with their calamitous racket.
Mr. Flavius, knowing the sensitive disposition of the the Southern Flavius's (having never actually having raised any children themselves) hurried and hushed the children until all was peaceful again.  But only a short time later, a new sound like an angry, fire breathing monster filled the entire house.  So loud was the sound of this infernal respiration that it seemed to come from everywhere at once.

Unfortunately, I was stuck nursing a new baby and could not go see what was the matter.  So I raised my voice to make certain that all the noisy children could here me over this new and terrible sound and I said in my loudest mothering tone I could muster, "CHILDREN!  WHAT IN THE WORLD ARE YOU DOING?  IT SOUNDS LIKE YOU HAVE A DRAGON UP THERE!"

And that is when Mrs. Southern Flavius said, "It's me.  I'm ironing."

The alternative title for this little vignette is, "How We Know Mommy Does Not Iron."

SO, today we were leaving the house to go run some errands, when Mr. Flavius came running out the door.

"What are the children doing?  It shook the whole house!"

"Nothing.  What?  Why?"

"the whole house shook."

Apparently, we had an earthquake.  Only I hadn't eaten since this morning and I was feeling pretty shaky already so I missed our great adventure.  Anyway, as our neighbor said, if it's not in the news just check Facebook first.  Sure enough status updates across the Mid Atlantic and lower New England reported the unexpected terremoto from Virginia.  


Always something new happening here in Johnstown.  Never a dull moment.

Salvo Magazine- Salvo 13

AMAZING article. 

SLAVE MASTER

How Pornography Drugs & Changes Your Brain

by Donald L. Hilton, Jr.

While some have avoided using the term “addiction” in the context of natural compulsions such as uncontrolled sexuality, overeating, or gambling, let us consider current scientific evidence regarding the brain and addiction.

This article will seek to answer two questions: (1) Biologically, is the brain affected by pornography and other sexual addictions? (2) If so, and if such addictions are widespread, can they have a societal effect as well?

h/t Fr. Andrew Stephen Damick

What Difference A Year Makes

August 2010

August 2011

August 2010

August 2011

Mere Comments from Touchstone Magazine

Mere Comments from Touchstone Magazine consistently produces relevant Christian commentary on popular culture.  Give them a read if you haven't already.  
When I broke my ankle, I spent too much of my time watching all five seasons of The Wire.  It is not the holiest of activities.  The series centers in on one gang in a drug infested neighborhood Baltimore and the police charged with trying to stop them.  The lines blur more often than not, with the 'good guys' and the 'bad guys' swapping places.  Over the course of the five seasons, the story focused on all perspectives from the gang and detectives to the children and schools, the politicians and the media.  Lots of violence and debauchery.  Frankly, it was more depressing than I can even talk about.  At the heart of all the corruption, was the family or rather the total absence of the family.  Without the presence of the family, the vacuum left behind begged for something that none of the willing contenders could measure up to.  The family is a working unit of love and cooperation.  Anything short of that is just that too little to fill the void and ultimately doomed to fail.  It isn't simply some cute little coincidence that the family is the best metaphor for the Trinity, it is the truth.  What this world needs is more families, more children in those families,  more people in the pews, and more religious and clergy. Let's get busy, folks, and make it happen.  Otherwise, what are we hoping for when Christ returns?    


Rise Up, O Men of God
by William Murchison


From The New York Times, August 16,  2011:
     "The number of Americans with children who live together without marrying has increased twelvefold since 1970, according to a report released Tuesday.  The report states that children now are more llikely to have unmarried parents than divorced ones."
      Time for the Church to clear its collective head and find its collective voice, wouldn't one say?
      I, for one, would.
      The religious doctrine of marriage -- never mind the civil one -- has beeen kicked down the stairs by a culture intent on enshrining personal choice as the essential element in all relationships. Choice, of course, is an element in romantic love, but in Christian marriage it comes with strings attached, chiefly those pledges of fidelity and commitment.   The idea that in marriage one hands over personal desire to the custody and keeping of another is profoundly un-modern.
      Expatiation on the disastrous consequences of  uprooting commitment and fidelity from the marriage undertaking isn't the present point.  The need I would advertise is for the churches to rise from the bottom of the cultural staircase, where they have too long lain, and resume teaching a full-throated, ontological doctrine of  marriage and family, derivable from what was once understood as the sovereign will and purpose of God.
      "God"?  What a concept with which to belabor the 21st century!   Which is a big chunk of the problem, isn't it?   A modern Church squeamish when it comes to faithful representation of its Master's unmodern wishes gets the expected payback.  So do the rest of us, alas.

Blessed Feast of the Transfiguration

You were transfigured on the Mount, 

Christ God revealing Your glory to Your disciples, 

insofar as they could comprehend. 

Illuminate us sinners also with Your everlasting light, 

through the intercessions of the Theotokos. 

 Giver of light, glory to You.

You were transfigured upon the mount, 

O Christ our God, and Your disciples, 

insofar as they could bear, beheld Your glory. 

Thus, when they see You crucified, 

they may understand Your voluntary passion, 

and proclaim to the world that 

You are truly the effulgence of the Father.