Or as Caila, my childhood dog, a bouvier (no presidential connections, I assure you) is fond of remarking "Boof! Boof! BOOFBOOF!"
Things continue on in North Carolinaland. I did not go to meeting yesterday. I strongly considered Liz's suggestion of calling a meeting house for a ride. My parents live way-hey-hey-hey the heck out here, at least a good hour each way from any meeting, so eventualy I decided not to - it seemed like a bit much. I only had one kid with me during the Mass hour, and managed to get in some quiet worship.
There is an unfortunate Barbie doll hanging by her hair in the window blinds across the room. Hmm.
My brothers and I have been bonding over geeky RPG awesomeness. I told you I regress when I go home. My character is a Breton Healer, the closest thing to a non-violent character there is. In pixilated life, being a goody-two-shoes is difficult. The best way to advance in the game is to kill a bunch of people and take their stuff. This way involves lots of wading around in swamps and collecting mushrooms to sell. Also fighting rats.
Oh dear. The two year old monkey, in an early-morning physics experiment, has just dropped a mug into the toilet, where it has broken. Sadly, it is one of those Corel mugs which doesn't break, and doesn't break, and doesn't break, and doesn't break, until it shatters into 6,000 bits. She is now running around the house with a cereal bowl clapped to her bare behind, for no reason I can fathom. Perhaps to protect it from encounters with a toilet full of broken glass? She has informed me that I am to fill it with cereal. Once she takes it off her posterior. Ew.
Off to strategize some toilet-shard removal. I don't suppose the household is possessed of a huge pair of tongs...
Of The Best Stuff, but Cracked
8 comments:
This is sort of a catch-all, catch-up commentary. I do so love your writing and I love it when you write. So many of the excerpts you've cited lately state so succinctly those things I've struggled the hardest to express to those to whom I am obliged to offer the distillations of the things I have learned.
your search for a fundamental truth is so real, so genuine, so stand-apart from the fashionable posturings of the psuedo-seekers that it breaks my heart sometimes. It is a torment to feel that an answer is just beyond one's grasp and that perhaps, after all, one is simply not deemed worthy of an answer.
If it offers any consolation or comfort at all.....in 55 yrs. of seeking, I know only that God loves us, He moves in our lives, and He is up to the task so that we don't have to be and can relax and enjoy the babies and the monkeys and just simply flush the toilet......just as trust is the ultimate (possibly the only) expression of love......so it is the ultimate expression of worship.
Be kind to yourself, keep on writing........and thank you for the peace.
I started skim'min these blogs to see if i could locate some "religious" folk that weren't totally whack. I thought Quakers might be the ticket. well, I'm still looking.
I been reading back in your blog... one redeeming feature, however, might be this music factor. I see you started a Quaker band. What in the hell is "quaker music" like? I would really like to hear it... does your band have any CDs and where can I get one? and how much dinero do I have to shell out?
Quaker Music! Do you play at churchs that are not Quaker churchs? I would love to have a Quaker band play at our church.
I had to laugh at the immage of your little brother with the bowl behind.
Sam
Actually, well, it wasn't "Quaker Music"...it was Quakers playing music. There isn't really a tradition of music in Quaker history. For some amazing, bone-rattling hymns, try the Shakers.
The band has since broken up, so I guess you'll have to put me back in the unredeemed queue, friend Mike.
Ah, the two year old monkeys will get you every time. It's probably too late, but I would have recommended a slotted spoon with a long handle.
Another popular song around here:
Three little monkeys jumping on the bed,
One fell off and bumped his head.
Mama called the doctor and the doctor said,
No More Monkeys jumping on the bed!
Two little monkeys, etc.
Until we get to
Mama monkey jumping on the bed,
She fell off and bumped her head.
Daddy[or Nana] called the doctor and the doctor said,
That's what you get for jumping on the bed!
It wasn't Quaker Music? I find this quite odd! I bought a CD and a song book at the 15th street meeting social hour, the song book is songs of a Quaker Ballad Singer. Weren't you in Lorcan's band? If my memory serves me right this is the day I met you and Lorcan, which I do believe you were signing some of Lorcan's music.
There really is a tradition of Quaker music, for example the song "As We Leave This Friendly Place", but also I have always thought of Lorcan's music as Quaker music, I was surprised to hear that the band has broken up. I wish you well in your endeavors and please give my best to Lorcan. Your Friend Beth
A slotted spoon! Genius! Alas, we went for rubber gloves and gingerly grabbing.
Beth:
Well, Lorcan's band, like the universe, is in flux, so I dunno if saying "it's broken up" is accurate. I no longer sing with them. There are some traditional ballads he has written new Quakerish words to, so perhaps there's a developing Quaker music scene. Plus there's always In my Old Leather Britches (It's really called Walk in the Light, but I like In my Old Leather Britches better, because Britches is a funny, funny word.)
You can reach Lorcan at his blog, in my sidebar, Plain in the City, and he can tell you what's up with his music.
Amanda, I'm a new reader who hasn't caught up with everything you've got on this blog. But I am a Catholic (actually converted to the RCC from evang. Prot'ism) studying the Friends on my own. For all of my 29 years, I have thought each time I got to a "place" that it was my final spiritual destination, of sorts. I couldn't have been more wrong. I'm glad to see that there are so many others, including you!
Post a Comment