In lieu of my own post, I give you this one. I’m not sure I would think about it quite the same way, but Jim Curley hits nail on head. To have a strong connection to your community, you need to stay put.
Something I never would have chosen to learn, it just happened at me.
Just added the Baby Name Wizard to the links. Which to my knowledge I do not need for nine months from anytime, but did need to check on a character name. Pulls name data from the Social Security Administration, so you can find out, for example, whether anyone was naming their daughter “Erica” in 1914. (They weren’t. We went with Erna.) Handy for historical fiction.
BTW for the new readers, I happily take link suggestions for anything that remotely fits with the theme of the blog, and if you read here, I’ll gladly link you.
Now off to go continue getting my rear whipped at the writer’s conference. Aria’s finger is doing great, and now has two fewer paper clips stainless steel surgical pins than it did a week ago. Yay!
General update for you on doings at the castle:
The smashed finger keeps us busy. Surgery #2 appears to have gotten all parts into their proper places, and Aria goes for a follow-up this afternoon — hoping for good news there. Poor girl, our surgeon (with whom the parents are very happy) is so excited to have salvaged the pinkie that he goes on and on with long technical explanations about just how bad it was.
(And in awe he asks the question we all have: How did you do this? Which no one knows. I did my best Br. Cadfael imitation, following the blood trail to the scene of the crime, but was unable to find that one clue that unlocks the case. Note to self: Have children pay more attention when they are involved in freak backyard accidents.)
Anyhow, progress is good, but I am reminded that even relatively minor medical crises (it is a pinkie, after all) can sure suck some hours out of the week.
Back from the Beach We all slipped away over the weekend to say at the beach house of a generous benefactor. In which we learned that:
Sleep deprivation has sneaked up on me. Not sure exactly when — one of those half-hour here and there things, gradually adding up to a grumpy, depressed mother whose willpower is gone, gone, gone. Oh so lenten there. The Olympics are probably in part to blame, and sleeping in an east-facing, lightly-shaded room at the beach house didn’t help on the other end. So we’re in homeschool-rescue mode, where we modify the usual routines to get the mother back to human.
A book is underway! Try not to laugh. (Yes, I *always* have a book underway. But this time it’s different, really. Really.) Ties directly into the smashed finger, beach trip and sleep-deprivation. Have an idea (and an outline, and some lousy initial draft material that needs to be scrapped) about a homeschooling book I want to write. Reality-checked with some off-blog internet friends– so people who have been reading my thoughts on these topics for five or ten years now — and got the go vote to give it a try. Nice to have a cheering team. So that’s the latest hobby.
Conveniently timed, since the Catholic Writer’s Conference starts tomorrow. (Which means the kids were slated for a week of educational videos and independent projects already. Yes, they do learn quite a lot that way — you can’t tv-school all the time, but in rationed doses, it is a legitimate part of the toolbox.)
Meanwhile, have to catch up on some real-life chores, pop into an SCA event, and finish up my latest Catholic Company review book, Saint of the Day. Good book, and I’ll go into more detail on its strengths and weaknesses when I post the review. Did I mention how much I love the review program? Yay Catholic Company.
Interesting article re: witchcraft, the church and the state. Quick, readable, specific enough to be useful. Can’t comment myself, but gives you some fodder for further study. Will say that the info Mike Flynn gives does seem to coordinate with what I have read elsewhere. (H/T to Mark Shea for posting the link.)
. . . the more the Easter.
Good luck, and Happy Ash Wednesday.
Picked up Living Your Faith by Robert Nash, SJ at my local thrift store the other week. A lenten-quality kick-in-the-pants, published by Prentice Hall in 1951, originally published in Ireland under the title Is Life Worthwhile?.
So the other day Fr. Nash is onto me — point after point about sin and salvation, our helplessness, God’s love for us, etc. etc. And I think: How on earth could someone (protestant) think Catholics are not Christians? Next thing I know, I run into a line about when a Christian feels the “immense strength he has in Jesus and Mary”.
Ah. Yes. I can see where that would not sit quite right with the protestant soul. Indeed, it initially struck me, rosary-pray-er that I am, as a bit off. Then, corrected, I realized our problem is not theological, but grammatical.
The accusation of some protestants is that Catholics make a goddess of Mary. A sentence like Fr. Nash’s seems to point that way: Mary appears to be positioned as equal to Jesus.
Now Mary certainly holds a privileged place among God’s creatures, and Catholics do believe that the saints in Heaven are given an active role as co-heirs with Christ. We are the Body of Christ here on earth, and we aren’t suddenly demoted to uselessness when we arrive in Heaven. God doesn’t need us, but He lets us help him anyway. But any role that Mary plays is of human type — appropriate to the kinds of work that God has allowed men to do. We do not worship Mary as a goddess. We just don’t.
So what about that sentence? Do we have to do some kind of literary gymnastics to exonerate Fr. Nash? Not at all.
When we see two people paired in a statement, it does not automatically mean the author considers them equal. Everything depends on the actual relationship between the two.
So, if we read, “Dr. Smith and Dr. Jones are in surgery”, we get one idea. We imagine two physicians, doing about the same work. In contrast, if we read, “Dr. Smith and Nurse Jones are in surgery”, we imagine the scene differently. We know that nurses and physicians have different roles, so we envision Smith doing what doctors do, and Jones doing what nurses do.
There is nothing contrived about this reading. In English, we can pair two equals, we can pair two opposites, and we can also pair two related but unlike people or objects. Doctor and doctor, doctor and patient, doctor and nurse.
Knowing nothing at all about Catholic theology would be something like knowing nothing at all about the practice of medicine. When you read about “Dr. Smith and Nurse Jones” working together, or “Jesus and Mary” working together, if you truly don’t know what role each plays, as the reader you may have some confusion about what is being stated.
Can the reader of ill-will choose to intentionally “misunderstand” in order to make false accusations? Certainly. But as Catholics we have to consider that ambiguous grammar on our part may be confusing and misleading for readers, listeners, and friends of good will.
We read Letting Swift River Go this week at school. Tells the story of the damming of the Swift River, from the perspective of a young girl whose home and town are dismantled to make way for the lake.
Well done, highly recommended for the check-out-at-your-local-library list. My three-year-old sat still for it (hot-chocolate assisted) and all my big kids (5,7,9) listened with interest. Fits well into mid-20th century American history (all ages), or for little kids, as part of the famous “my town” social studies topic, if you happen to have a dam of your own. Covers the entire process from making-the-decision to lake-is-full. I did need to explain to the kids that our local man-made lake was created for a different purpose (hydro-power) than the water project in the story.
More details available at the author Jane Yolen’s blog.
Cover art courtesy of Jane Yolen’s blog.
Some of the godchildren are moving to Vancouver, WA, a city about which we are all woefully ignorant. If any readers have tips on schools & neighborhoods, I should be most grateful for your advice. Thank you!
Entirely unrelated tidbits:
The Coalition for Clarity has two historical quotes of interest posted here. The first is St. Augustine, writing at the end of the Roman Empire of course; the second is Pope Nicolas I, writing in 886.
So many times history books try to sum up an entire society by what happened most. Peering into the detailed lives of individuals gives a more accurate picture.
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And our other topic: For those who are looking here for an update: Aria is doing great, little finger is pinned back together and she’s a happy girl. Especially since this whole event has been associated with the aquisition of new clothes. Prayers for good results at the follow-up appointment Feb 8th much appreciated.
Yesterday the WSJ ran this article featuring Deacon Patrick Moynihan — oddly unlike the coverage he gets in the diocesan newspaper (in a good way). Here is the site for The Haitian Project, where you can learn about Louverture Cleary School, and see post-earthquake updates.