I do not forget....

The memories grow stronger with every passing year.

Things I like

When I was very small this guy used to play for tips at our local farmers market.....I remember Mom bought a whole set of his CDs, even though we didn't have a CD player back then. I still listen to them.

He has a website now, and I hope he's stinking rich.

Because Nothing says "Christmas" like......

I try not to blog stuff here that contributes to the ugliness in the world. (maybe I fail, but the goal is still truth, beauty &goodness all the way.)

Every now and then, though, I find something I really need to share.


I work in a store that sells Christmas ornaments. I unwrap and price them starting in mid-July and hang them up for the world to see around the end of August. I kind of enjoy this, since I enjoy Christmas and cute stuff and I don't think that decorating a tree makes you a bad Christian somehow.

I have developed a high tolerance for the kitschy, the campy and the Just Plain Weird - though I am still less than fond of glitter.

But then I unwrapped The Monstrosity -  a nameless abomination that took the form of a high-heel platform shoe-thingy in colors such that it would embarrass even the most hardened trailer park elf /Elvis impersonator.
 

In short, It's ugly, it's fragile, and it does not appear to bear any relationship to any secular or religious holiday.

Scroll down if you dare.

"that which is seen cannot be unseen."

Hedwig

****

My first memories are of the high hills.

Soaring eagles below. The grass and trees on the farther hills swaying in waves wilder than the seas I have since seen.

I have another memory, of Smoke and screams – but it is very faint.

Edwin found me, a baby of about three months old, on the threshold of his cave, a line of tiger’s footprints leading away.

He raised me as his own, teaching me, when I was old enough, the ways of healing and of the mysterious innate goodness to be found in the pure elements and (in greater or less degree) in our fellow creatures. “Signs of the eternally true” Edwin called this. “Dim sparks of the one bright thing.” “As dewdrops are to the river, so are these things we sense. Someday you shall seek the River itself.”

We lived quite peacefully in the hills, those high hills. There where a few small villages, many animals, occasional raiders and goblins. Edwin trained me in the use of arms, that I might be able to withstand evil and hunt for food. We did not see much of any fellow Druid, as many of them did not see wisdom in Edwin’s ways. They saw plants as a force to manipulated, not respected, and animals as slaves (or masters), not nourishment. They manipulated the weak and feared the strong.They had no knowledge of the river.

When I was about fifteen years old I found outside our door a tiger’s cub. Whisper and I have been inseparable since. Edwin used to tease that we where littermates, pointing to the common tint of our hair and eyes. It is true we understand each other.

For six years we three were happy together. Then Edwin died, as all men must. I buried him according to the custom of our people, building his mound under our favorite tree.

After this, my heart became restless, and I determined to go in search of that River of truth that  alone can heal all hurts and fill all emptiness.

****

And so her story begins:

How all these met with each other (and many adventures) must wait for another day:

I'd like you to meet someone...

Father Emil Kapaun. 

His MOH citation is here

Part one of an eight part series of articles about him is here. Read the whole thing, you owe it to yourself.

...and companions, Martyrs

Most professions have their own patron saint or several. Doctors, lawyers, greengrocers, waiters, bomb technicians, swordsmiths, accountants – you name it. Usually a saint is chosen as a patron by a group because they either followed the profession in question while they where alive, or because they exemplified some virtue that is vital to the state in life of those who practice it.

So who is the Patron Saint of  retail/customer service workers?

Apparently, we haven’t one.

We are an extensive group, but largely nameless – even our very best efforts will never catapult us to fame - unknown but to our families and God.

The problem seems to be that retail sales as it is practiced today is a relatively modern invention. I have not been able to find a bio of a saint who followed the profession for any length of time. (St. Frances of Assisi is great, but he isn’t what I had in mind because he quit his father’s shop rather dramatically.)

So who would be fitting for retail workers everywhere? Our profession is extremely diverse and includes grocery store cashiers and Nordstrom’s sales associates – requisite skills in all environments include smiling in the face of disaster and putting up with stupid people while keeping a sense of humor. The ability to answer the same question over and over without losing your temper, and not punching stupid people. Standing on your feet all day and smiling, and not punching stupid people. Also, not punching stupid people.

So I propose this:

“...and companions, Martyrs.”

You see, there is a vast army in heaven of people, normal sorts of people, who died rather than give up their faith. In most countries, when a persecution arose the tyrant du jour would round up the missionaries and any of their converts they could find and execute them. Frequently we know the name of the missionary but not the names of all the converts, so they are listed as: St Charles Lwanga and companions, Martyrs. Or: St Andrew Kim and companions, martyrs.

Large group of diverse people who understand suffering and exemplify steadfastness and perseverance? check.

...and companions, martyrs, pray for us!

Along the Brook - 1931

 

You can view the copyright announcement here.  It's right next to The Greedy Goat!

"With drawings of fifty common plants and creatures, by Margery N Wilson"... who is, alas, lost to the internet.

The book was actually called Along the Brook, what you will find there and how to name it, and it has survived better than "Along the Shore." At least, it's on Amazon and Along the Shore is not.

According to this source, his full name was Raymond Tifft Fuller, he was born In 1889 and died in 1960. He wrote several books for young naturalists (you can read a review of one of the later ones here.)

 He also wrote a book about the passion play in Oberammergau (written in 1934, which was its 300th anniversary and the year the Nazis tried to take it over and turn it into some kind of Jew-hating "peasant festival" )You can read the book here. I skimmed parts of it and gathered that the beer in Munich is really, really, good and the play is NOT COMMERCIAL AT ALL,  M'KAY! Mr. Fuller had attended the 1930 version, but wrote this book before the 1934 play took place. The book appears to be more about urging people to visit Germany than it is about the play itself, specifically it's about how nice these German tourist bureau people are to give us such a good exchange rate.

Germany in 1934 was not poised to descend into the depths of evil. It had already descended. Dachau concentration camp had been open since 1933. Dachau is only about 65 miles from Oberammergau. The books where already burning. The Nazi party was the only legal party. Hitler was dictator of Germany. The Gestapo were open for business. Jews were no longer second class citizens, they were not citizens at all. They were boycotted, forbidden to own land or arms or run newspapers. They were steadily losing any rights they still possessed and it was getting worse. This was already in effect.

So, was Mr. Fuller evil? I doubt he was conscious enough for that. I think he had one of these:

...But that dosn't make me feel any better.