THE PARTY

I don’t know if my friends and family realize how much I love birthday cards!   Maybe I’m sentimental,  but I take them all seriously and enjoy each and every one.

I gathered up as many as I could find…. there are some missing.   Yes, you can see the ZERO at the edge of a couple of those.   I told you this was a “new decade” for me,   but that’s the only number you’re going to see.  (I probably well deserve the funny baby card.)

The music notes are from my music partner in the gazebo.    Of course!    As the card says,   music has the power to inspire,  to make us smile, to bring back old times — and to bind friends together.

I didn’t chronicle everything.   I didn’t do a good job of documenting my party,  but here are a few pictures. 

Cooper played a big part in the decorating.

He took very seriously his job to sprinkle the glitter on the table.     I think he placed each glittery piece one by one.   As careful as he was that day,  the glitter has now spread itself out over the entire house, and even outdoors on the deck and down the stairs to the back patio.

Sometime mid-party I remembered to take a picture of the cake;  (cakes)  and the cookies.

Yeah.   Four.   Four cakes.  (One behind the flowers.)     Lemon,  two chocolates,  and one butter cake with raspberry filling!     (I liked each and every one of those too!)

This was an opportunity for my friends to meet Cooper so we also had a Cookie Reception.  People brought cookies and it was Cooper’s job to greet the people,   show them where to put the cookies “so they would feel comfortable coming to Grandma’s house.”   That was an excellent way to give Cooper an important job to do,  which he took seriously:

This is the young man who will tell you what to do and where to go.   He shook hands with many people,  but some of the adults weren’t used to shaking hands with a five-year-old.   He watched their hands and if they weren’t ready to shake he just talked to them.

From what I hear,  Cooper entertained the adults very well.    Makes sense.    He has a YouTube channel of his own in which he demonstrates  his toys and explains what to do with them.

In the background we had music playing from the year — well, yeah, the year  I was born and a couple posters of “my life.”    The actual me.     The big circle on the television is the   Decca label or sometimes Columbia, as the music was playing on YouTube.   

So here’s some close-ups of those poster pictures:

Oh, a close-up on that,   if you like “baby pictures.”   –

Famous people in my family  and other party pictures –

It’s been a long, long life.    Sigh-h-h-h-h

The party lasted a long, long time, and we had several “waves” of people coming and going.

Two having a tête-a-tête.   Some serious discussion going on.  

Party games?      Yes.      Remember that glitter?

Duck your head and see how much glitter you can pick up with your forehead!  After a while we found out we didn’t even have to try –   parts of us were picking up glitter anyway.

I missed taking the photo of so many more people.    I don’t know how that happened, except there was so much going on,   so many people to talk to,  and I was just so happy to be with my friends and family — as I said, I just wasn’t being a chronicler.

I haven’t had a birthday party like this since I was 12 years old, so I was a little excited.

One friend brought her dog so we could “walk the dog”   around the block.     We needed the fresh air by then;  it was a cool, fresh eight-tenths of a mile.   

Mother Nature gave me a gift too – and finally!    I have been on a quest to get a photograph of our  neighborhood albino squirrel – even posting a picture one day of some bushes “where he just was” –  he is so elusive!!    But right there in front of us during our walk,   without even hunting him,   he ran right in front of us!

When almost everyone left, all but one guest,  we had to have a birthday dinner.  

On the menu?      Blackened hot dogs in the fire pit!

Cooper, the chief hot dog cooker.   He did all the work but I managed to pinch, cut, and burn my finger between the grill and the fire pit somehow.    (Taking it easy on the clean-up for a couple days.   Heh.)

Those are sparks from the pine wood, caught in motion by the camera lens.

There you are.   We had a comfortable, friendly, happy time, and I love all my friends and family.     I hated to say good-bye.    Each and every good-bye was like a “loss”  – even though I know, God willing,   we shall always be a part of each other’s life.

Sometimes it takes a birthday to figure that out!

 

 

 

 

FUN WITH BIRTHDAYS

. *    (please!)

___________________________________

Well, the family visit was great.  The Birthday Party was great –  and so fun and wonderful to see  my dearest friends!          (photos coming)      Big explosion on the sun on my birthday too!!!   Solar storm arriving soon!

This was the birthday that I really needed a little support.    I’m not really vain about my age,  but this one . . .  well, this one portends a little more than just  “more wrinkles.”   I will have to admit to having used up more than half my life span.   Quite a bit more.

So,  what else?       ENIAC was born the same year I was.  It was  30′ by 50′  big!     So no wonder I like computers –  we both got our start in the same year.

MENSA was created when I was born.   Not “for” me – hah!     But . . .  I could . . .  I could look into it if I thought it was important.    (It’s not, really.)

The BBC began its regular television broadcasting.    See?  I’m not that old!   There was television!

Hmmm . . .  first use of the microwave oven.   But I don’t use one.

The bikini was invented and first worn in Europe.   Hmmm.   Don’t use those anymore either.    You can get into a little trouble with that one.      Hubbie wanted to keep me for himself.     And I agreed, then.

United Nations began and UNICEF established.   Hmmm.     With objectives diametrically opposed to decent people everywhere.    It’s  “for the children,” they said.      Oh, my;  they lie;  children die.   

Tupperware is marketed to Americans the year I was born!    It was created by Earl Tupper a few years before,  but Americans had to be taught how to use it.  Two years later they came up with the idea of having “Tupperware Parties.”   Cute.

The average home cost about $1500 and gasoline cost 15 cents per gallon!

SEPTEMBER 27th

My birth date has some interesting things too:     Kevin Mitnick was indicted on this date.  Maximum sentence could have been 200 years!!!    Nice they let him out sooner, and he’s now using his “skills”  for the good of society.    This isn’t the famous Captain Crunch, just so you know.   That man has a different name,  different “crime.”

St. Alphonsus Liguori was born on this day.      A helpful and holy man.

The Jesuits began on this day.   They were pretty good from the 16th to the 19th centuries.    Trustworthy,  faithful, very well-educated, dedicated . . .   Perhaps someone will return the Jesuits to their integrity some day in the future.

St Cosmos and St Damian were killed today.  Brothers and doctors.    Born in Arabia.   They did retain their integrity and faithfulness to Jesus Christ.   And died for it.  270 A.D.   Tied up and drowned.    I guess they’re still doing that to Christians over there, seventeen and a half centuries later.

Hah!   Lou Gehrig hit his first home run on this day in 1923.    He also hit his last home run on this day,  1938! 

“Queen Elizabeth launched on this day.”     That would be the ship . . . .

So fun!     Take time to find out what happened on your birth date too!   It’s a bit humbling.   YOU are not the most notable thing to happen on your birthday!!

 

 

But still,  don’t forget that you are the reason a Man died on the Cross.    He chose to do that, out of love for you personally.    You are pretty important.

And that makes life – and death –  worth it all.

 

_______________________________________________

.*      Please:

Unless we do something,   we lose the Internet as we know it, on October 1.

Contact your Congressional representatives, I guess.

 

 _______________________________________________

WELCOME FAMILY

Welcome, family,   Daughter, Son-In-Law,  and . . .  Cooper!

I’ve been baking and cooking and cleaning for you all,   and now we’re all here together and the days will be so rich and full with you and Son and me.

You asked me what I wanted for my birthday?    

You.

Family:    the Basic Unit of Society.

OBSERVATIONS ALONG THE WAY

Growing older is funny.  (Yes, that birthday is still looming . . . or is that “threatening”?)

I have enough decades behind me to notice changes in the world.

I love all the new technology –  I haven’t met an electronic gadget that I didn’t like.   But some things in this world are weird.  I know what a dime store is –  you buy little sundries that don’t cost much.   But a Dollar store?  My first time I wasn’t sure how it worked.   Cheap things.   Okay.    But how much does this little thing cost?  How much does that little thing cost?    Where are the price tags?

Well.      Lesson learned.     I saved the receipt,  just so I remember my lesson:

That’s confusing.   Dollar means $1.00.

I think things have become unnecessarily complicated.  I went to my favorite Monday’s restaurant a few months ago and was pretty sure I’d be able to pick out and order what I wanted.     But then I looked at  the menu:

 

Really?    I’d  need a flow chart?

Maybe one does need a little help as one gets older.    Anyone know what that item on my grocery list is, the one starting with an M by the #4?

I stayed in that store quite a few minutes longer that day because I was being stubborn:  How can I not read my own writing?      Usually my handwriting is pretty good,  but,  well, I was writing  that list as I was driving to the store, and my horn is right in the middle of the steering wheel so you can’t press too hard  . . . .

I’ll be you have some”markers”  along the way as you’ve grown older:

I remember some funny things along the way.   The time Hubbie stopped the car in the middle of the road in the little city where he grew up.   We had traveled to his home town in the Far Far North where he knows practically everyone;   and he was driving – until he stopped suddenly, with a funny look on his face.  Finally he said,   “I didn’t know they could hire such  a  young person to be a policeman!” 

We finally decided we were now getting “older”  and the new policemen were becoming noticeably younger than we were.   Hubbie was 27 years old at the time!

And then I remember my second year of being a first grade teacher, and it was the first Parent-Teacher conference of the year:   Meet the Parents/Meet the Teacher.     All was going well,  all was normal, as expected,  until one mother sat down at my desk and let out a big sigh of relief.  She looked at me and said,  “Oh!  My daughter came home and said that her new teacher  is a teenager!”   That would be me.   I was 24 years old.  I guess she was relieved that I was an adult.

It’s all a matter of perspective.

I remember the first time I was called “Ma’am”  by a young(er)  cashier.   That was a strange feeling.   I could have been his . . .  his older sister, I guess.

I remember the time I made The Big Decision:  I would not be coloring my hair to hide any gray which might be appearing.    I thought it was a private decision that I would share with my teenagers.    “I just wanted you kids to know that I’m not going to be hiding my gray . . .”   

“Oh, Mom,  we already figured that out.”

Hmmph.

I remember the hesitant looks and watchfulness I felt when I went into our sports equipment store to buy my K-2s –  a great pair of Rollerblades.    I know what they were thinking.   But —  an “old lady”  needs exercise too!     And now I need a new pair . . .   sigh-h-h-h-h.   

I remember the nice young man in the coffee shop who refused to sell me a triple espresso.  I fixed him.   I ordered a double,  sat down to my laptop for a while,  and then got up and ordered another double.      That’s more than a triple!

I might be growing older,  but I’m not losing my mind!

 

 

 

 

LEAVING SUMMER FEELINGS

Well, I had a camera fail –  a Samsung 7 camera fail, just so that’s out there.    For the past five days,  all the photos I’ve taken come out . . .   gray.   And even the ones I can see on my camera won’t “send.”    

It’s righted itself now,  apparently,  but you don’t want to see a Test Shot of my kitchen table.

But I didn’t want to miss the passing from Summer to Fall.     That’s always a Big Marker for me because I have a birthday coming up in a few days –  just a little into Fall.   But this birthday is a new kind of a one for me –  I’ve never been THIS old before!  I think I’m feeling a little shaky.

And I’m thinking of all the things I’m leaving behind at this stage of my life.

But I’ll talk about seasons of the year instead.   Here’s one of the nicest things that I will be saying good-bye to — our recorder music in the summer outdoors:

Well,  we think we make lovely music.  Angelic music!    Beautiful baroque.

Our music setting was certainly beautiful –

Greens and greens and greens,  lawns, shadows, and forest.    I walk across that little area and on into my friend’s lovely gazebo –

That little   white roundish (octagonal?)  structure is where we play our music.

 A light summer refreshment after we’ve tired ourselves out  –

I think my friend won’t mind if I place her on this page.   She’s pretty,   the gazebo is pretty,   the forest outside is pretty,   the summer days were pretty –

Our music in the gazebo was the “prettiest” memory of this whole summer – passing now.   I’m sure I’ll be remembering the tranquility our summer music at times during the coming ice and snow and freezing winds.

  

   Early signs.     Many of our trees now are part yellow and part green;  part orange and part green;   part red and part green.

  We’ve got some beauty of a different kind coming.

 

RAISE A JAEGERMEISTER TODAY!

Before Sept. 20th gets too  much in the past,  I want to mention today’s saint whose emblem you may have seen before –

There on the label of a bottle of Jaegermeister is a picture of a stag – a big deer with his horns, and in the middle of the horns you will always see a cross, usually a bright and shining cross.

What’s a Jaegermeister?   That’s German for Hunting Master, and you’ll find them all over European estates – someone to be responsible for  hunting  (and conservation) on the landowner’s property  —  in previous centuries, I guess,  when there was law and order and a social hierarchy that made sense.

The picture on the label was chosen to represent St.  Eustachius,  the patron saint of hunters, because of a life-changing event in the man’s life.

His name used to be “Placidus” and he was a valued and skillful general in the Emperor Trajan’s army  (in Rome),  so that makes him alive when St. John was  still alive, who knew Jesus personally.    But that didn’t matter to Placidus at first.

Placidus enjoyed hunting and his high rank allowed him adequate leisure for this sport.

One day,  deep in a forest, he saw a big stag with a light coming from the space between his great antlers.   As Placidus got closer,   he saw that the light was actually in the form of a cross,  with Jesus crucified on that cross.      As he stared at this sight,  he heard a voice.  It’s not recorded what he heard,  but he immediately became a follower of Jesus.

He could have remained serving Trajan in the army,  but almost right after his conversion,  he began to lose all those things that had meant so much to him as a Roman general.  He lost all his wealth,  all his possessions,  and then, of course,  he lost his status in the Roman army.    Throughout these extreme reversals of fortune,  he did not lose his faith.    This was a blessed trial.   He changed his name to “Eustachius” — a name indicating good and steady.

He was married and had two daughters, so he found a job as the caretaker for a rich landowner.  There he would have stayed, but for some very bad news that Trajan received:

Barbarians were attacking the borders and Trajan needed a good general to take care of the situation.   He searched for and found  Eustachius, who once again served his emperor well and successfully.   A great patriotic celebration was held.

Patriotic, including  thanking the gods.

Which Eustachius could no longer do, since that would mean denying the one True God, whom he now served.

He and his whole family were  arrested and all found “guilty”  of being “of those Christians”  whom Trajan was trying to eliminate from his empire.     Some accounts say his trial and imprisonment occurred near Mt. Ararat!

He was sentenced to be put to death by lions, a common wild animal in those parts.  But on the day that his sentence was carried out,  the lions, according to reports,  became “tame”  and would not kill Eustachius.

Sometimes this happens,    but I don’t know why.    It seems horrible enough to go through,  only to wait and wait and then it doesn’t “work”  —  you have not been taken to Heaven.

A substitute penalty was ordered.

That one worked.   I hope it was fast.   The fires under a brass bull could be counted on to do the job.

A person who dies for love of Christ  is a martyr and we believe  Heaven opens up for him at the moment of death.   They say if we can go to  Heaven, that “the things of the Earth”  will seem very dim and far away.  Such a death will seem like a small and insignificant price compared to the indescribable experience of being in the presence of God and His glory.

That is St. Eustachius.   He knew that being a Christian  meant going against his culture.   Being a Christian is no guarantee for happiness in this world,  but it doesn’t matter, because that’s not where your focus is anymore.   Christ is ahead of you, and you follow Him.    And it’s worth more than anything you could possibly lose that this world offers.

Your  government  may not like you.   And you may become a martyr.

St. Eustachius began his adventure with a stag hunt in the woods.    Patron saint of hunters.   Perhaps he’s looking down on other hunters . . .   hoping for the best for them.

Skol !!

 

 

 

 

 

THE CREEPING MOVEMENT: A PUSH-BACK

(I don’t mean “a creepy movement,”   just that it’s creeping right along, as a relentless, unseen mold might do.)

I made reference in the last post about how the “movement”  of islamic dominance is spreading all over the West.   It’s a movement, a stealth movement, that keeps creeping into the cracks and crevices of the sleeping Western world.     Stealth –  not because they’re being stealthy,  but because the West is being deliberately obtuse.

More “umbrella people” —

•   O Britain:   land of Queen Boudica;   land of Camelot and King Arthur;   land of St Bede and Landisfarne;    Queen Elthedraeda;   land of the Angles and the Saxons and the Danes and Jutes and Normans;   King Edward;  William the Conqueror;  St.  Thomas a Becket;  St. Thomas More;   the sturdy peasants of the Northern Uprising;    land of Westminster Abbey;  land of the British Museum and the Royal Societies;  Sir William Drake, et al.;   Christopher Wren;   Admiral Nelson;   Jane Austin;    Dickens;    . . . .

. . . . the land of “We shall!”  –

. . . . Winston Churchill. . . .   “We shall not flag or fail.”

We shall go on to the end, we shall fight in France,
we shall fight on the seas and oceans,
we shall fight with growing confidence and growing strength in the air, we shall defend our Island, whatever the cost may be,
we shall fight on the beaches,
we shall fight on the landing grounds,
we shall fight in the fields and in the streets,
we shall fight in the hills;
we shall never surrender, and even if, which I do not for a moment believe, this Island or a large part of it were subjugated and starving, then our Empire beyond the seas, armed and guarded by the British Fleet, would carry on the struggle, until, in God’s good time, the New World, with all its power and might, steps forth to the rescue and the liberation of the old.”

Today,  the “umbrella people”  in England –

“Never forget.”     “Never forget.”     “Never forget.”

Never forget who you are.

It’s not just England.    German television ads are running right now,  “suggesting”  to young German women that they might be safer if they wear burkas, or head scarves.  And a pretty young German model shows you how attractive they can be.

Because . .  .  the Germans know they have a “creeping”  problem:

The northern European countries have also suggested the purchasing of running shoes,  sneakers,  trainers,  so that the young ladies might be able to outrun their attackers.

Swedish young lady victims were given some advice recently too:

So get a male relative to escort you out of your homes.  Or just stay home!

The Canadians have a different solution.   Just make them part of your police department.

Royal Canadian Mounted Police.

America is not resisting this growing, creeping influence.     Recently,  at the Democrat National Convention we were lectured by a Shariah advocate that we’d better act nice and behave:

 

I hope Americans still know who this man is.   Mr. Khan was described by our Democrat-Progressive-Socialists (who want to win the election)   as a “Gold Star Father.”  He did indeed lose a son in the fighting in the Middle East, a place where  many young islamic Americans have received their training in radical islamic jihad techniques.    

What the entertainment-news media hid from the public is that this man was practicing  taqiyya –  deliberate and permitted lying to trick the enemy into non-resistance.   His main occupation is promoting Sharia in the United States,  Sharia to dominate the U.S.  Constitution. 

Yes, his son died.     But he, himself,  the man himself,  is not his son.     His son died fighting in the American Army – the father is fighting against America –  and we were supposed to shut up and honor him.   His anti-American writings and speeches mute our sympathies.

There is another “creeping” movement,  growing at least in Europe.   The people are rising up and resisting the policies of their rulers who are using radical islamists as a tool to maintain social and civil disruption,  for which they, the Rulers, have a ‘solution.”

 

Germany.  It is there that Nazism  (National-Socialism) and  Global-Socialism  is being rejected, little by little.   Angela Merkel is    gone  defeated in an election. 

I saw a short news video from Turkey today which showed Turkish people rising up against the invading radical islamists, a viglante group “running them out of town,” so to speak.

A grass roots uprising.         Their own Dodge City.

If it can be done, over there,  maybe . . .  here.

 

. *    Please let love for your own country move you today.  Perhaps we can learn from this example of English love for England:

This royal throne of kings, this sceptred isle,
This earth of majesty, this seat of Mars,
This other Eden, demi-paradise,
This fortress built by Nature for herself
Against infection and the hand of war,
This happy breed of men, this little world,
This precious stone set in the silver sea,
Which serves it in the office of a wall
Or as a moat defensive to a house,
Against the envy of less happier lands,–
This blessed plot, this earth, this realm, this England.

William Shakespeare, “King Richard II”, Act 2 scene 1
Greatest English dramatist & poet (1564 – 1616)  

Every nation can look back with pride to some equally inspiring literature.    Do not expect government schools to find it for you.

 

 

BLOODY FUNNY – BLOODY ODD

I don’t think I’m swearing in that title.      I don’t usually.

But I  really am going to talk about blood and bloody stuff tonight –  so please don’t read if you need to stay comfortable . . .   and uninformed.

Good-bye:

 

So first a couple attempts at humor.  One guy created  this chart to make his point,  that the Western World has changed, advanced,  corrected its faults, and become better throughout time.

And then there’s this bit of humor . . . showing how difficult it is to understand a culture so different from our own:

I mean no ill-will, and this is actually rather self-mocking,  self-deprecating humor.

Except –  it’s not so funny for the women who have to live like that.   Recently some women were allowed to be nurses and work at a hospital:

They were allowed to be nurses as long as they covered up everything but their hands,  and they had to prove that they weren’t wearing nail polish.   That’s why the ladies’  hands are being held up and outward.   So the men can inspect them.

See a similarity between the two photos?   When does “humor”  lose its funny-ness?

Deliberate Misdirection:

We get into serious territory.   If you looked into the issues behind this weekend’s “news” stories,   you may have discovered more serious information about the situation that is developing rapidly in the United States.  But if you heard about the he said-she said “drama”  about who said it was a “b*  om * b”   (they both did)  but if he said it, he was being “irresponsible and reckless”  and when she said it,  she was being “steady.”

Remember hearing that?    That was the entertainment-news media misdirecting our attention – away from any serious analysis of the problem.    Ha ha.    Stay comfortably funny.

We were also told that the timing of these latest attacks is very serious because the UN in New York will be hosting its periodic meeting of the General Assembly.

Where the Global-Socialist Rulers of the world plan their plots.    And assessing their use of their latest  cultural manipulation tool:   let’s call them “refugees,”  so nice people will be fooled.

Inside the UN  building:

The Barack Hussein person in the United States just celebrated Eid al-Adha – in the White House, with a nice, big dinner  (at our expense).     I hope the entertainment-news media explained what the “celebration”  is all about.

Because they celebrated it in a huge American baseball stadium on the other side of our country:

This is the “bloody” part of the title of this post.   Because after the prayers and ceremonies were over,  they began to sacrifice animals there,  according to reports,  according to custom.  

Because that’s what is done this time of the year:

(I’ve kept the pictures small.   They’re really quite  overwhelming.   The Daily Mail from the UK gets the credit for these photos, taken in various countries.)

Animals are sacrificed “in honor of”  Abraham’s near-sacrifice of  his son.    

Now,  Christianity is all about the sacrifice of Jesus,  the Christ,   the Son of God,  which broke the power of sin over us.   All the sacrifices that were spoken of (and performed) in the Old Testament pointed to Christ’s one-time holy and efficacious self-sacrifice.  But Moslems do not believe that Christ died on the Cross, so . . . . 

Streets run with blood.   And this time,  this year,  in one large islamic city,   it rained –  washing so much blood away that the streets turned into red rivers.

So from the humorous “umbrella people,”  to the odd coverings on nurses,   to the march of Islam everywhere,   in every continent,  in every government, even directing the world’s  “government,”   we go from humorous to serious,  because the “march” is really happening.   

There is a serious situation developing right now, as we saw during the knifings and explosions and shooting of policemen in our country this past weekend.

The “situation”  is called  dhimmitude.

Better look that up.    You need knowledge in order to make goo ddecisions,   but  I’m not “sanguine”  about the knowledge of my fellow-countrymen.

And pardon the pun.

MASSAGED MESSAGES

(I’ve been sleepless for a long time and I’m grumpy. I want information from the News,  not an Agenda.)
Look only where they show you . . .

That is,  look only  where the entertainment-news media point your attention, a small circle through the wrong end of the telescope.   Their choice.

Television system in The Spruce Tunnel almost all fixed now,  just in time for big news,  and it looks like another Sitting-Duck Zone suffered  knife-attacks this past weekend,  with no one able to defend themselves or stop the attacker from going on to other victims.       Nine people stabbed.

 This feels personal;  my parents and sisters lived in this Minnesota city for a few years.

Fortunately for the shoppers there came an off-duty policeman who still had his gun with him.     And that was followed by the bombs and  IEDs in New Jersey and New York on Sunday.   

The entertainment-news media massages our brains a little.

Our Rulers are so sure that we believe their every word  that they think if they don’t say “bad words”  like terrorist,  terrorist connection,  ISIS,   bombing,  or refugee communities  ,  etc.  then we won’t think the danger comes from from   terrorist,   terrorist connections,   ISIS,   bombing,  or refugee communities.
 
Why not?  Because the politicians who want to be re-elected or re-re-elected have told us that we are winning/have won the war on terrorism.    

See?  They said it,   we’re going to think it’s true.

According to the Global-Socialist Agenda,  we must believe that the  “refugee-warriors”  preach peace and want   to be Americans   and not America itself.  

It says “peace” in their book!

 

ISIS puts out a bulletin:  “Attack where they live.”    And ISIS acknowledge these “warriors of Allah.”    And as one television personality said this morning:   “Politicians can say we’re winning the war in the MIddle East, because they’ve brought the war over here.”

So welcome these refugees.

One headline reads:       “100,000 Somalis admitted to the US  since 911.”
The next headline says:      “Obama  silent on this weekend’s bombings.”    ( That would be the Barack Hussein person in this country.)

Makes sense.
Also heard on radio news overnight:      “These are Obama’s people.”   (Somalis, Syrians,  and Afghanis)

The Poor Sick Woman running for election talks briefly about the bombings in New York.  CNN shows the video but edits out her word  “bombing.”       They  initially  “massaged”  her short video  although,  after some push-back,    they’ve put it back in but go on commenting as though that word weren’t there.

Why did they do that?    So   they’re free to attack Trump for being right on top of things and talking about the bombings.   Not “who”  placed the bomb in Chelsea,  but  just what the average American citizen saw with their own eyes.   Trump doesn’t speak like a politician.   He speaks like the average American.

Which,  since we’re the Deplorables,   we should just keep quiet and quit talking.

“See something, say something?”  My foot!    You’re only supposed to say what they tell you that you saw.   

“Political Correctness kills.”   

This is an election of the American nation versus the Global-Socialist Agenda.

 

MAYBE A TRIVIAL POST. OR NOT.

I can’t decide.   It’s late and I’m exhausted and I have a really busy day coming up tomorrow.  I feel like writing a small,  trivial, sentimental little posting tonight.   But maybe I might make a  point.

If I don’t make a point, I’m sleeping.

Here’s a sweet little photo:

Daddy got to hold the tiny little feet of his baby boy shortly after he was born.  Very prematurely.    My grandson,  Cooper,  was born prematurely too, though not this tiny.

Perfect little foot with all its toes.    Sometimes I wear a little pin of tiny feet, little perfect tiny gold feet,  to remind us of all our littlest brothers and sisters who are waiting to be born.   Cooper is 5 years old now.   This little baby in the photo is 9 months old now.

Sometimes we’re not so loving towards our littlest ones.    Our littlest ones can’t help being so tiny.      Murder is murder no matter how small the human being is.

Here is another  little one,   two years old:

I wish I could hold him and comfort him.   He looks so scared.   He looks so scared and helpless.

The Islamists who were handling him burned him alive shortly after this photo was taken   

His little face haunts me.   May God comfort him now.

I didn’t know where I’m  going with this posting.    Maybe back to the Middle East because I have another photo somewhere to show you.     It would take too long to find that photo,  but it would be of a young, happy, holy priest in a long black cassock – on a trampoline with a bunch of kids.   I have another photo of him giving a “Horsey-Back ride to a little child who was happy and giggling as they galloped around.

We were at a party that day,  given for this young priest in the long black cassock. *    I gave him a little book for a present:  The Imitation of Christ,  the book that has been read with great profit by uncountable numbers of men and women.   It’s a heart-to-heart talk,  Jesus and you.  How to live like Christ and be holy like Him.

I don’t know if the young priest ever read my book,  but all who know him know he has become very holy,  totally focused on Christ and His Church and all of the people he knows.    Dedicated and holy for us.   He is admired and loved.

And he has just volunteered to go to Iraq to help the Christians in danger there.   Like that little boy in the photo, and his family.

A plea I read recently from a priest or bishop over there:  “For Christ’s sake,  you in America,  help us!  Send help or there will not be any more Christians left!”

A historical note:   Christianity first thrived and grew in the Middle East and in Northern Africa:    Damascus,   Antioch,  Caeserea,  Cappodocia,    Joppa,  Petra,   Alexandria,  Edessa,  Smyrna . . .   so many places.    So many wise men born out of these areas.

So many  Christian lives snuffed out now.

Sure, we accept “refugees” from this area,  but the Barack Hussein person was raised a Sunni Muslim.     Of all the refugees America he has received recently,   0.04% are Christian. I’ve read other slightly different numbers,  but Christians are always less than 1%.

Too late for the scared  little boy in the photo.

 

If you’d like to pray specifically for his soul,  for his courage,  for his holiness,  for his aid,   his name is Father Gawronsky.    I hope you never read his name in the newspapers.

 

JUST SO YOU KNOW

Well, we don’t know where Hillary is, do we?

But at least we know where she went on 9/11 for her 9-1-1 medical emergency.  We were told she went to daughter Chelsea’s apartment,  and not to a medical facility.

Or . . .   what?

 

Did Hillary ever make it out of there?   

Or:   Did she really get “sneaked” into her home elsewhere, and the media didn’t have an opportunity to video  her departure?    Where is everybody?

Are they able to get her “back on her feet”?   Or will someone “stand in” for her?

Oh.

Well, my TV has been broken for a few days.   Out of service.   Maybe the entertainment-news media is keeping us “informed.”

 

 

9-13-17 WHAT GROWN MEN SAW AT FATIMA

It’s the 13th of the month, one of the months of 99 years ago in which the three little children of Fatima were seeing visions of the Blessed Virgin Mary, who was bringing important information for the world.

Why entrust “important information”  to three  little children?    I don’t know all of the reasons, but on this September 13th three grown men also left their record of that day – and the result is similar.     They told simply what they saw, and there is not a hint of “fanciful fairy tales” in their account.     Either!    The words of the  three children of Fatima had never sounded like fanciful tales either.

So these three men, who were dressed in suits,  but happened to priests of the skeptical variety,  came to the area where another apparition was supposed to take place around noon.   They came to the beautiful rolling hills of the pasture lands near Fatima, Portugal, which looked something like this photo.

The actual site of the apparition was near a holm oak tree:

The three men positioned themselves above the area of the holm oak so they could look down and see everything,  the behavior of all the people and any natural or supernatural phenomena that might occur.

But there was already a crowd of people there.  Quite a crowd!

In this  fifth expected apparition  30,000 people had heard and showed up!   The three men saw that the children and most of the crowd were already praying the rosary,  and were expectant.

And then, around noon,  the three men saw something in the eastern sky.  It was a soft gentle light coming from the east,  and as it got closer they could see that it was like a globe;  maybe  we’d call it an “orb” today.     It glowed beautifully and drifted towards the little oak tree, “majestically,”  as they described it.

And then they noticed that the bright sunlight got a little dimmer and became  somewhat golden, and then there was a quiet hush in the air.

Must have been lovely,  and a bit eerie.

Many eyewitnesses reported seeing and feeling the same thing.    Some people reported being able to see some stars in the sky that day.

The apparition was about to begin, seen only by the three children, and  heard only by two of the children.

Of course the important thing was the message this apparition had brought,  not just the external phenomena that the astonished men had called ” a delightful vision.”

I always forget the details of this vision because they are not dramatic or startling like the four previous ones,  just a simple admonition to “keep praying the rosary so that the War will end.” *     I guess that’s “dramatic” enough for us today, the idea that prayer and faith and devotion do  have an effect upon global political conditions.      It’s one thing to know it;  it’s another thing to practice it.

Lucia, the eldest of the children,  dutifully relayed to the apparition some questions about healing that certain people had given her to ask the Lady;    the answer was “some will be healed,  others will not be.”     They – and we –  need to know that answers to prayer is in God’s hands and sometimes dependent upon certain things on our part.

Prayer:  It is natural to pray for things we need.   When St Thomas Aquinas was discussing the matter of prayer and petition,  he quoted St Augustine who had written:  “It is lawful to pray for that which it is lawful to desire.”     So take heart!   Have confidence!

And then came a promise.    Next month the Lady, the Blessed Virgin Mary,   will come back with more personages from Heaven and with public  Proof that these apparitions from Heaven are real.  The Proof will be visible to all and will be convincing.     As the apparition ended,   something like white “snowflakes”   or “petals”  precipitated out of the air, for all to see, although the flakes didn’t quite reach the ground.

The men, watching from their position higher up,  at first thought this was a flock of little white birds.  They asked each other if they each had seen it.     They all had,  but none ventured to give it a name.  And then a small cloud was seen by that little oak tree where the children had been seeing the Lady.   It thickened a little,  rose a little, then disappeared.   In its place a few wispy clouds appeared and quickly disappeared.  What was that?    Again, the men had no words for it.

The three children could be seen pointing to the eastern sky again, saying look!   There it is.   The three grown men saw the white orb again, receding.    When one asked the other what he though that was,  this time he said, without thinking,  “That is Our Lady!”

So stay tuned for October 13th.

And keep praying – especially for the “State of the World.”      We are so close to the fulfillment of the terrible warnings that had come earlier to the children.

I’m beginning to think that then false politics of today will be the instrument that will bring down that judgment upon us.

 

.*    That would be World War One:  “The War to End All Wars.”     It was a shockingly violent and destructive war.   Every bit of modern technology was used to  kill and destroy:  the newly invented airplanes were used to drop bombs;  chemical warfare maimed and killed men in horrible ways;   all our focus and planning and intelligence was brought to bear on waging an inhuman, uncivilized war.     Surely we had reached the final ultimate worst that Man can do to Man,  and we must never permit war again.

(And yet,  Our Lady,  in these apparitions warned of a worse one to come,  contingent upon future human behavior….)

 

RIGHT SIDE OR LEFT SIDE?

(Note:   “humor”)     (Yep)  

Well, they’ve given us another “conspiracy”  to occupy our attention!   So the following is just to keep The Spruce Tunnel informed.

 

You all know I’m a fan of Jason Bourne novels and movies.  They’re entertaining.     Unless you’re personally involved,  a good conspiracy is merely entertaining.   That’s all it can be.

Here’s a good book  that I just got from my library tonight.   “Hard-driving thriller of the modern Arctic” ;  “relentless actions”;   “downfall of civilization”;    outbreak of a mysterious ancient disease;  and –  someone is doing it!  Sounds like a good conspiracy to me!

Here’s another one our Rulers have given us.   Why did WABC-TV, that venerable old television station in New York City announce the death of Hillary Clinton yesterday?   (All that’s left of that announcement is a 17-second clip that someone saved.  You can check out YouTube with the words:  WABC, New York City,  Hillary Clintons and death.)   

Where is “she” now?

Why does Chlesea’s apartment specs show only one half of her allotted space?  Does the rest of her apartment contain an emergency room?   Medical facility?   Is that where the Clintons put that sort of bankrupt  medical facility that they bought?    Is that why Hillary was not taken by ambulance to a hospital yesterday?

And WHO was that that bounded out of Chelsea’s apartment, full of strength and energy,  slightly smaller, slightly thinner, and very much stronger than the poor sick woman who supposedly went into that apartment just 90 minutes earlier?

But here’s the one that caught my attention.    I usually have a purse with me too.

 

Many women seem to be very particular about which side they wear their purse. 

The woman, whoever she is, looking strong and healthy,  no trouble with too much weight on her hips, boldly stepping out onto a city sidewalk  without security people surrounding her   — and she chooses to wear her purse on her right shoulder.    So do I, actually.     I know I feel clumsy with it on my left side.  I like to root around in my purse with my more dexterous left hand fingers.

Hillary is supposedly  always seen wearing her purse on her left shoulder.

Or maybe  she’s just ambidextrous.   Or ambishoulderous. 

I just know I’m going to be clandestinely watching my friends and their purses this winter.    A good conspiracy is hard to ignore!

 

GOOD AND EVIL UP ABOVE

Sept. 11, 2016   –

As I left church this morning I looked up.

Great evil:   Those “trails”  are raining down on us  boron,  barium,  cadmium,  assorted radioactive isotopes, desiccated red blood cells,  and above all,  great quantities of aluminum.     Among other occasional substances.

Most of these are neurotoxins, causing neurological deficits, dementia,  sterility, and increasing immune-system weaknesses.       The above-named substances have been found in human hair samples,  bone marrow,  spinal fluid in  “inexplicable”  quantities, and all on the rise.

Whatever explanation our Rulers give us,  the fact remains that this is destroying human, animal, and plant life on earth.     Since about 1995.

I call that evil.

In front of that, however,  in the photo, pointing upwards,  is a great good.      In our church,  the Son of God actually becomes present on our altars.     Since about, oh,  33 A.D.

I call that a great good.

Who wins?

“Heaven and Earth shall pass away,  but my word will never pass away.”   (Jesus.  About 32-33 A.D.)

 

 

 

 

9-11-01 MUCH DIED

Yeah . . . “much died” –  not “many.”   Many did die that day, and are still dying because of it,  but 9-11 was the day I realized much had died.   Much of America had already died.

And on that day I began to grieve.

Because gravity and kerosene  (JP-8 fuel)  do NOT do this:

 

So reason Number 1  that I began to grieve is because about a year or so earlier,  a pretty good-sized passenger plane crashed into the upper floors of a high-rise building – in  Italy.    Those floors and the immediate adjacent floors burned after the crash.   Totally believable.

It burned for a day or so,   but that building did NOT disintegrate,  it did not disappear in a free-fall collapse,    it was not pulverized into a fine dust cloud,  and that Italian  high-rise building remained standing.

Construction analysts,  chemical engineers,  architects,  experts from around the world, those who knew of the very special, newly invented Japanese  steel that could resist damage, deformation, and burning  from anything    (anything short of a  —   you know)  . . .  They all rushed to  our aid with their studies.

Their reports were unwanted.    Their reports spoiled the “story.”      This info is still around,  but it’s been so intermingled with official de-bunkers,  that I have no links for you.   I’m not even interested in the details anymore.      I’m getting too old to mingle observable facts with misdirection.

 

Reason  Number 2 that I began to grieve:

Perky young lady,  British reporter assigned to America,  perhaps her first BIG story!

Top of the hour, 5:00 p.m.  she got her chance!

At 5:00 p.m.  she got to make her Live Report from NYC about the “ongoing story.”    And what did she tell the world?     That,  oh, my,  a third building had just collapsed.     “I’m standing in front of where Building 7 stood . . . ”

Only it was still standing.   She wasn’t looking behind her.   It was still standing.   The arrow above her head was added to a screen shot later, pointing out to us where Building 7 still stood.

She moves a little –

De-bunkers have moved in on this anomaly, mostly with sleight-of-hand verbal tricks.  But  I saw this live on TV on that day;  I remember thinking how odd the timing was.

Because at 5:00 she told us the building had fallen.    Live feed was cut, suddenly.   Back to the studio.

And then, at 5:20,  the building began to fall.

 “Where were you on 9-11?”     We are supposed to ask ourselves this, to keep us in a state of emotional “unity.”       I was alone at home that day.    Two members of my immediate family were far away,   one in California (more than 2,500 miles away!)    and Hubbie away in the Far Far North.    Those two called me a couple times.  They were alarmed and they were scared.    My daughter even asked if I thought she should go to work that morning –   but by then I had seen the odd and inexplicable things that were being played out on the television screens.

This was going to be a one-time event.    A one-time opportunity.

It was the new narrative, the new story that they were constructing for us, with vivid images and terrible, emotionally wrenching close-ups of victims.   It wasn’t news reporting.  It was story-telling.

And you’d better not contradict that story.

I’ll give you reason Number 3  (for my grief)  a  few postings  later,  when I explain why I don’t fly.

 

(On  airplanes, that is!)

 

Because there was one more grievous thing waiting for us on 9-11.

CAISSONS ROLLING THROUGH TIME

(And they’re rolling right down to us.)

How far could you throw a   1,200- pound solid iron ball?    (I have trouble with a 12-pound bowling ball!)    If you had a cannon,  how far could you make it go?

How big would your cannon have to be if you wanted to make that 1,200-pound cannonball travel one MILE?       (Try just walking a mile!)

Well, the Islamic Turks had it all figured out.    And they needed 60 oxen and 700 men just to pull the huge cannon  into place!       Then,  after they fired it,  it took seven hours to reload!

But with the use of this cannon,  the gigantic  1,000 year-old super-walled city of Constantinople . . . fell.   It was the end of Christendom in the East.   It was a huge and  unexpected shock to the Western world.    1453 A.D.

What was happening in Western Christendom that they wouldn’t come to the aid of Constantinople?

Read today’s headlines:    King would not align with kings,  leaders quarreled with other leaders,   nobody had “extra” money that they would spend on defense,  the emphasis was on “arts and entertainment,”   quality of life,   and the new-found emphasis on humanism in service of Man;    and – as always – there was a traitor from the West;  “Urban”  I think his name was.   He was the one who taught the Turks how to build this giant cannon,  and he stayed with them,  “training” them until they were proficient — against Constantinople, and ultimately the West.

“And the caissons go rolling along….”         I’m still surprised at how moved I was during the Fourth of July celebration along the Hudson River last summer.   So big a crowd,  all proud to be celebrating America; and  so many in the crowd sang along with all the songs representing our Armed Forces….   And including the Army’s:  “Over hill, over dale, we have hit the dusty trail,   And those — ”      I was a little mystified when I didn’t hear them sing about “those caissons.”    It was:  “And those soldiers keep marching along.”

NOT the caissons rolling!?      I wondered why.    It troubled me.     Was this a subtle attack from the Modernists?      Caissons, after all,  are those wagons which carry along ammunition for the artillery used by the soldiers.     Is it not “nice” to refer to ammunition anymore?   Or did someone think that “people”  wouldn’t know what a caisson is?    I didn’t know – not when I first heard the song.  I grew up with “The Halls of Montezuma”  in my house, so I didn’t pay attention to those “caissons”  until I was older.      But  my Dad knew what a caisson is.  My teachers knew.  It was in our textbooks.  Our dictionaries.      We children were not  expected to be intellectually “soft.”     And stupid.

Don’t change the word “caisson”!   Because we have to know that they are STILL “rolling along. ”       

The “Turks”  still have “cannons” aimed at us,  now more than ever, only they aren’t shooting solid balls, they’re shooting case balls, also known as shells,  which means they’re hollowed out and filled with explosives.   And today we call them  missiles;  bombs on missiles.  Iran’s nuclear weapon program got our green light.

And we learned this past week that the Barack Hussein person in the U.S.  has facilitated the paying out of 33.6 BILLION dollars to Iran. *    Gold bullion and cash money.   Iranians are  not “Turks,”  but taking aim at us just the same.

Military vehicles on wheels and accompanying armament?     In 2015 we paid out to Iraq about $600,000,000 for  humvees and heavy-duty items of warfare.    And then —

—  then! —  we “lost” 2,300 humvees.     Our enemies “took them”   when  Mosul was conquered.    Now there are 2,300 humvees not protecting our soldiers,   but in enemy hands,  being used right now, against our soldiers,   in all kinds of inventive ways.    (Fill them with explosives and drive them into people. . . .)

So,  those “caissons”  are still rolling along,   pointed at us,  paid for by us,   and there is still a faction of westerners who are aiding and abetting the enemy,  just as in 1453.

Constantinople was defenseless against this huge cannon and the onslaught of very determined Muslims.

We look for our spiritual, moral, and physical defenses.

 

 

. *  One of the sources for the secret payments . . .  

By the way, is there a meaning in the number “33” ?   (For those who recognize that number.)     George Soros has recently public stated what we all knew,  that the Global Governance of us (tyranny)  cannot take full effect until the two big obstacles are brought down:   the idea of national sovereignty  (epitomized best in the Constitution of the United States);   and the neutralization   (neutering)   of the Catholic Church.

Soros represents the Enemy.   Soros is an arm of the Enemy.    Keep your eye on his ubiquitous influence in the United States.

Oh,  okay.  If you want.    Maybe another source about those humvees.

It’s possible the entertainment-news media in the U.S.  in not talking about this.

CIVILIZATION ON A TIME-WAVE

A few days ago I was browsing my archives,  looking for something,  when I came across an old posting in my “WHAT’S IT?”  series.   (Soon as I learn how to add “pages”  to the Spruce Tunnel I’ll set up a whole page for all the “WHAT’S IT”s  –  they’re fun!  Right now you’d just have to use the Search function.)

Here’s the one I found:

Usually a WHAT’S IT  will be interesting, but have no name, no explanation.    But this one has a name, sort of,  and it has sort of an explanation too, if you’re a math genius.

This is a Time-Wave chart for civilization.  The explanation:  

The Timewave theory.     . . . If you’d like  to prove or disprove it, you’d need to use some of this:
L(k) =  abs( ((-1)^trunc((k-1) /32))* (h[k-1 Mod64] – h[k-2 Mod64] +h[-k Mod64] – h[1-k Mod64])
  + 3*((-1)^trunc((k-3) /96))* (h[trunc(k/3) -1 Mod64] – h[trunc(k/3) -2 Mod64] + h[-trunc(k/3) Mod64] – h[1-trunc(k/3) Mod64])
  + 6*((-1)^trunc((k-6) /192))* (h[trunc(k/6) -1 Mod64] – h[trunc(k/6) -2 Mod64] + h[-trunc(k/6) Mod64] – h[1-trunc(k/6) Mod64])  )
 + abs( 9-h[-k Mod64] – h[k-1 Mod64] + 3*(9-h[-trunc(k/3) Mod64] – h[trunc(k/3) -1 Mod64]) + 6*(9- h[-trunc(k/6) Mod64] – h[trunc(k/6) -1 Mod64] ) ) . . .

Well, it goes on. . .     Someone used it to figure out the rise and fall of human civilization in general;  not any specific one, just the ability of humans to create a civilization.  What the author of this wave chart didn’t expect as he projected his calculations forward in time is that the line on the graph would fall to  ZERO! 

Some day civilization will just end.    It won’t go on forever.    Humans, on their own, can’t sustain civilized life, at least in this Age of the World.    

(The ancients determined that there will be Seven Ages of the World.     If I remember correctly,  we are  nearing the very, very End.    I shall have to compare this to Enoch’s Ages . .  . )

 

This structure lasted for about 1,400 years:

Nothing says “end”  like seeing Monte Cassino in ruins!      We “had”  to do it, we said,  because the Nazis were there,  using it as an effective headquarters to kill the Allies who were defending civilization.    (The National Socialists – Nazis –  came out of barbarism,  not out of a civilized mindset.)     Like civilization, it had been sitting there, exposed, and vulnerable to destruction.

It’s been rebuilt, of course, and it’s so beautiful that it’s used as a school for artists who want to learn how to restore the beautiful things that were built in centuries past. 

So few of us, now, know the art of painting, architecture, statuary,  pargeting,  mosaics,   mixing colors,  lead glass and stained glass,  embroidery,   tapestry  . . . 

But if we have the will to re-learn all this, we could.

Monte Cassino Abbey today

Monte Cassino –  This was a great center of learning.    But long before that it was  the center from which a civilization was built after the Roman Empire fell and Pax Romana was no more.     People suffered,   disease and famine and war were everywhere.     Nobody believed it would happen or that it even could happen, that the world would descend into barbarism.

Pope St. Gregory the Great mused in his writings and speeches that this could be the end of everything,  the End of the World.

But for St. Benedict!      A man who desperately wanted to be holy and wholly a servant of God, apart,  away from all the troubles — but whose very holiness attracted like-minded men.   From their sanctuary in the midst of Italy  (very near where there was recently a big earthquake — the monks of Norsia there very much need your help . . .they’re living in rubble)   from their sanctuary around the beginning of the 7th century,  Christian principles and Christian action spread and slowly and steadily became the foundation for Western Civilization. 

There would be NO civilization if it weren’t for the hard work of these Christian monks!

And we enjoyed the benefits of civilization for many centuries.    But, alas,  as we turn away from those Christian principles . . .  well,  check out that Time-Wave chart.  

Civilization could  come to an end again.

Here is a story from the days of Rome,  a long time before it fell:

That’s Attila the Hun  (a barbarian)  on horseback.     He didn’t quite make it into Rome with his army that day.      He was repelled by the holy Christian authority of St. Genevieve.  451 A.D.

Oh, yes – a woman!      The Church has often produced strong women who in their own way, with strong skills,  have protected and prolonged civilized life.   

A little more than a decade later,  she repelled another barbarian,  Childeric, attacking Paris,  464 A.D.          Though the barbarians were “at the gates”  and Christianity was still somewhat new and sparse,   St. Genevieve at least negotiated with this barbaric leader and had prisoners released and much more of the city saved.

See,  we’re not slaves to that Time-Wave.      Though the barbarians are at our gates again and Western Civilization seems to be diminishing everywhere – perhaps . . .   just perhaps . . .

Perhaps there will be enough prayer rising up, as at Monte Cassino . . .  Perhaps there will be men and women of valor to renew and restore  Christian values . . . 

Perhaps God will forgive and be merciful again.

 

 

 

 

 

SEPTEMBER SUNDAY – NOT UNALLOYED

Well, I pointed out a couple posts ago why September is such a beautiful month for me,  and my birthday month too,   so on this past Sunday I wanted to worship God in the most beautiful church I knew of in this area.         Here’s an old aerial view.   You can see it is built as churches are,  in the form of a cross.

It is dedicated to the one who always guides us to  her Son, just as the North Star guides sailors safely to shore,  no mater what they’ve been through!    Many a sailor has appealed to the guidance of Mary Star of the Sea in the midst of storms and dangers!  We become safe only in the arms of God.

There,  above the altar,  is a picture of her,  showing us where the altar is,   beckoning us  to come to the altar, to where her Son and our Savior offers Himself up for us.   The Mass is all about voluntarily joining in, in a human way,  with the offering up of Himself to the Father, to take care of our sin issue.     Nice  to have a “Beautiful Lady”  pointing the way.

Below and behind the altar are the Apostles,  teaching us the Way.

When your mind wanders . . .  (“the spirit is willing but the flesh is weak”) . . . it’s nice to have these Apostles reminding us of Who this is all about.     We have the teachings of some of these apostles;  that’s a help.

The dome,  the paintings, the carvings,  the colors are all beautiful;   lofty, raising our minds “aloft.”

For you who are not Christian,  that’s the point of all that beauty we strive for:  to point our way  up  to the Heavens.    Whatever is in the next world is far more beautiful and glorious than we can even imagine.

We are humans;  it works;   beauty points upward.

But my happiness at being there on Sunday was not unalloyed.       That is,  I was acutely mindful of Sundays elsewhere in the world.

This church was destroyed last week:

The Muslims hate Catholics and have stated so in the past two issues of their glossy,  well-made monthly magazine called Dabiq.   There they lay out their plans for us.

Here, in the Far North in the United States I can’t DO anything about this,  just pray and  pray more earnestly.      I can pray for people who are chained and imprisoned on this Sunday.

I can pray for those who have been chained because of their Christian faith:

They are being prevented from seeing any “beautiful place of worship.”

I’m  not yet fearful  because I am a Christian:

 

My priests can still lead me in worship and do what Christ has told them to do:

But if we don’t vote correctly this Fall,  if we don’t pay attention,  if we are ignorant of what’s going on in Europe  right now  (first Europe, then America) . . .

. . .    if we remain ignorant and indifferent:

. . . then I will be writing about different kind of experiences,  here,  on Sundays.

“Complacent”  means you are pretty much enjoying the way things are going.

“Unalloyed”  means you’re blissfully and ignorantly happy, without troubling thoughts.

“Alloyed”  means “mixed;    your happy thoughts are mixed with sobering reality.

I am not  unalloyed.”

The Reading appointed for this Sunday,  for many centuries, is from the third chapter of the letter to the Ephesians, from which our priest explained that “we ask God for many things all the time,” but “He is ready and able to give  us far more good things than we can even imagine.”

So our praying matters!

From the Introit:      “Bow down Thy ear to me, O Lord, and hear me;    for I am needy and poor.”

PORN PORTALS

(Beware.   Election comments . . .)

One of the most common ways to get hacking portals onto your computer,  hacking portals like malware, trojans, and viruses,  is to click on a link that leads you to a porn site,  even a “semi-porn”  site.

As Hillary, the poor, sick woman,   found out fairly recently.   How did she get hacked so often?      That was how.                 (according to official reports)

And,  why?    Why does it work  that  way?      You don’t think the demons like you,  do you?   You don’t think evil people have your bests interests in mind, do you?

The Wicked prey upon the wicked and the weak.

Morally weak people . . .  are prey.

SEPTEMBER! REWARDS!

 

SEPTEMBER !!!!!

 

September !    September is a reward for being alive!!!     (Around this household.)

We made it through the worst of summer!    The annoying heat and humidity is lifting,  promising the cool, crisp air soon to come;  the skies are blue,  the stars in the night are easily visible again now that the veil of humidity  is thinning.  Some of us become more active in this clean, cooler air!

Here in the Far North we begin once again to share our little city with 40,000 “foreigners” – students from every part of this country and others.    Once you’re resigned to the influx of students,  you can accept their  arrival  and all that it brings.   Their attempts to navigate our traffic patterns, lanes, and signals and  their passing from the far right lanes diagonally across traffic to make a suddenly necessary left-hand turn.

As long as you’re not in their pathway,   you can just smile fondly at the newcomers.       “Here they are again.”

You remember that you must suddenly share stores and restaurants with 40,000 more people,  many of which cannot speak English.    It’s kind of interesting to hear a small, polite, and rather timid voice coming from somewhere beneath shoulder level, asking you to reach something from a top shelf,  or to find some item on their list – which seems to mystify them anyway.   And the request mystifies you too,  because they may or may not be speaking English.

Good way to enjoy  nonverbal communication skills!    And to enfold your arms (metaphorically speaking)   around people from all over the world.     As small kids in Sunday School we belted out the song:   “Jeeee-sus LUVS the litt- ttell chilll-dren!  All the children of the wuuuurld.    Red-and-yellow-black-and-white- they-are-precious-in-His-sight.   Jeeee-sus luvs the litt-ttell  children of the wurld!!!!!”

A song like that doesn’t ever leave you!!   Neither does its Christian teaching.

So:  new weather patterns. more easily endured;  new students arriving;   and, of course –  Football!       I’ve seen our Spartans back-to-back with da Bears — what a glorious weekend on television!       A new season with the promise of many more games to come.

I was sure that I’ve written here before about all the new things that September brings,  all the new beginnings.   I searched all the September archives and didn’t find what I was looking for,  but here are some of the things I remember being glad for.

It’s a whole new year!

Anyone who has ever gone to school feels the newness of a whole new school year coming up.    We advance one new higher grade in school.    In the university we advance one year closer to our professional goal.

In our careers Labor Day weekend is our last summer fling and we know we have to return to the seriousness of everyday issues,  hoping to create a better routine, a chance for more success.   For Hubbie and me who were teachers,    our professional careers wouldn’t let us forget that  “this is another brand-new year.”       There is an eagerness and a thrill upon seeing your new students in September.    (No mistakes yet!  No frustrations yet!   It’s good.    I’m good.  Everyone’s good!)

As a matter of fact,  although current  contemporary times tell us that the new year begins in January,  “September”  reminds us that other civilizations begin their year at other times:  the Romans, for instance began their year in March, giving the seventh month its name:  Sept-ember.

  And in the Jewish calendar  THIS month,  September,  contains the beginning of a whole new year before God,  Rosh Hashanah.      Of course,  they begin it a little more seriously than we begin our new calendar year:  seven days of solemn soul-searching,  forgiveness, and restitution where possible.   A whole new year’s worth of time is, after all,  a gift from God.     And then they’re ready!

I have plans for my own personal new year too.  I’m a little shy about telling them to you,  but I can just say that it involves increasing my intellectual and artistic skills.    Some very serious self-discipline involved here.   But it IS    “my new year.”   My birthday is sometime this month.

September’s Morning Glory

I enter a whole new decade of uncharted territory with this birthday.       “I’ve never been this old before!!!!”

But someone reminded me that right now today I’m still as young as I’m ever going to be. (I hope that helps)      And I can say that on  each day of my life, as long as God gives me heartbeats for my body to use.

I teach a few classes, as you may know if you’ve been to the Spruce Tunnel before.   A long time ago someone asked me to do a class on aging.   Aging, I guess, according to God’s plan.    At the time, I felt I didn’t have enough experience to do a good job of it.

Hmmmm.    I’m going to have to start paying attention to my life now.    I’m beginning to feel “experienced.”

Stay tuned.     There are a lot of other wonderful things in September!