Christmas went off pretty well this year. We were with our families and there were no major disasters or fights. Dinner last night was delicious. My only complaint is that it wasn't at my house, so I don't get any leftovers.
The kids made out like bandits, as always. I was broke this year, and gave them things I had made in my shop. I made Elder a desk. I gave younger a doll house that isn't quite finished. As is typical of me I went over my head on that one. I could have made her a simple box with a triangular roof on top and called it a dollhouse, but noooo.... I saw a plan for a Georgian style dollhouse and off I went. At least younger is excited at the prospect of the two of us finishing the dollhouse together. I made my mother a card table, so she can have a decent table for her euchre parties. Maybe she'll get rid of one of her ancient folding plastic ones where the legs keep collapsing, usually when I finally have a decent hand.
I wonder why I feel guilty about giving out hand made gifts, as if they aren't good enough.
I used to give even more hand-made gifts, but that stopped for many on my list. One year, a few months after Christmas, I saw my in laws lighting the charcoal barbecue with pieces of something I had given their son.
Now that my shop is no longer an outreach branch of Santa's toyshop I can get back to other things, like the pipe organ project and a few other things. Younger now wants me to make a desk for her. She flipped through my plan books and came up with a style she likes- drop front, Queen Anne. I'll give her this much, she has taste.
***
I wonder if when younger leaves home she'll want me to make her furniture. "Please Daddy, I've always wanted my home done in Chippendale style, with a bit of Hepplewhite. That's not too much, is it?"
***
I've read a few places about the Pope's recent "year in review" or "State of the Church" speech. Most bloggers are concerned about how the MSM reported or distorted the speech. Blogging about the media distorting papal messages- or any message for that matter- is a bit like blogging about how water is wet. The media always distorts, puffing up those the reporter likes, ripping those the reporter dislikes.
The speech itself touches on several important issues, including the environment, which the Pope weaves into the Church's concern for life. I was glad to see this. I have said in the past that if we are to have dominion over creation, we should hold that dominion like benevolent and loving rulers, not like creation's tyrants and dictators.
***
Weather here is getting a little crazy. We got a fair amount of snow, and now it is all set to melt as the temperature rises for the next few days and it rains.
***
That's it for the moment. I was going to say something about the politics in Canada at the moment, but I'll wait a day or two for that.
Showing posts with label roundup. Show all posts
Showing posts with label roundup. Show all posts
26 December 2008
18 December 2008
here and there
Been troubleshooting at work for much of today. It is one of the great regrets of my life that "troubleshooting" doesn't mean what it sounds like it means.
***
Been locked in my garage most nights of late, trying to finish off some gifts I let sit too long. There's a desk for elder, a dollhouse for younger and a marble run for my nephew. I might keep the marble run, as I rather like it and his mother isn't speaking to me at the moment.
As a galoot (a word hand tool users often use to describe themselves) I find that I have a few advantages over the "Norm"als (power tool users) when it comes to working in the winter months. Not only does my shop need little in the way of power tools, I also don't need a heater. After the first ten minutes I generally don't need a jacket. Hard work warms me up enough.
***
The tree is up. I put on the lights, placed the angel at the top (I am the only one who can reach) and let the kids go. Younger made a little altar with the creche and a few other items. She did this without any prodding from Puff or me, and it looks quite nice.
***
Christmas concert was last night. Too many parents and grandparents crammed into the little gym to listen to their kids sing badly about- well, anything but the real meaning of Christmas, it seemed. Among the acts was some kind of live action Grinch and a skit called "Snoopy and the Red Baron." As I recall, that little segment was actually in the Charlie Brown Hallowe'en special.
By the way, ever wonder why kids are often so badly behaved? After seeing their parents last night, I don't.
***
Elder is continuing her reading of the Twilight series. As a result, I got roped into reading the last one: "Breaking Wind" or some such thing. It is badly written and tedious, and part of it is written from a male character's point of view. At least the character is referred to as male, however, after seeing his thoughts I'd have to say "No, not a male."
I find this quite often in books written by women. They can observe men, can represent our actions, but when they try to write our thoughts they are wrong. I have often noticed a difference between our genders. I have never met a man who claims to understand women. It leads to bar room conversations like this:
Or, back to more writing, and something a little less serious, take the Harry Potter series, which I loved. It, however, had a few glaring flaws. One of them was Harry himself, who was supposed to be an average boy, except he really didn't think like one. For instance, the male drive is overwhelmingly visual. What, then, did his first girlfriend look like? Her appearance should have been catalogued for the reader clearly, or there should have been at least one detail of her upon which he could fixate, not even hair, Rowling's favourite detail. Instead, we are given a single adjective: she was pretty. Wow. What a girl.
Or take the character of Hermione. By Rowling's own admission, Hermione is Rowling herself as a young girl. I would say, she is more of how girls that age saw themselves. She is smarter than the boys, wiser than the boys, more mature than the boys. She is always right. Rowling never misses a chance to show Hermione one up on the boys. Is this possible? maybe. Depends. However, what is unlikely is the boys' reaction to her. They do not find her incredibly annoying, at least not past the first book. As I said, this is how women see themselves, not how boys see them, and this book was written from the perspective of the boy.
***
I will say this for the last book of Twilight: it is pro life of a sort. Bella, the main character, absolutely refuses to abort her vampire/human hybrid baby, even though it puts her life in extreme danger.
***
That's it for now. Posting will be sporadic before, during and shortly after Christmas. Have a Merry one.
***
Been locked in my garage most nights of late, trying to finish off some gifts I let sit too long. There's a desk for elder, a dollhouse for younger and a marble run for my nephew. I might keep the marble run, as I rather like it and his mother isn't speaking to me at the moment.
As a galoot (a word hand tool users often use to describe themselves) I find that I have a few advantages over the "Norm"als (power tool users) when it comes to working in the winter months. Not only does my shop need little in the way of power tools, I also don't need a heater. After the first ten minutes I generally don't need a jacket. Hard work warms me up enough.
***
The tree is up. I put on the lights, placed the angel at the top (I am the only one who can reach) and let the kids go. Younger made a little altar with the creche and a few other items. She did this without any prodding from Puff or me, and it looks quite nice.
***
Christmas concert was last night. Too many parents and grandparents crammed into the little gym to listen to their kids sing badly about- well, anything but the real meaning of Christmas, it seemed. Among the acts was some kind of live action Grinch and a skit called "Snoopy and the Red Baron." As I recall, that little segment was actually in the Charlie Brown Hallowe'en special.
By the way, ever wonder why kids are often so badly behaved? After seeing their parents last night, I don't.
***
Elder is continuing her reading of the Twilight series. As a result, I got roped into reading the last one: "Breaking Wind" or some such thing. It is badly written and tedious, and part of it is written from a male character's point of view. At least the character is referred to as male, however, after seeing his thoughts I'd have to say "No, not a male."
I find this quite often in books written by women. They can observe men, can represent our actions, but when they try to write our thoughts they are wrong. I have often noticed a difference between our genders. I have never met a man who claims to understand women. It leads to bar room conversations like this:
Man 1, (putting down his beer): "Women." He shrugs with upturned hands and a look of complete mystification on his face.
Man 2: I hear ya, bro'. I hear ya.
But I have met many women who claim to understand men. Years ago, there was a time when I had more female friends than males. I used to take part in discussions with them where they would say things like "You men don't understand us." This was true, and I would readily agree. But they would then go on to explain how they understood men perfectly. I even remember seeing some blond bonehead phone in talk-show host explaining how men are so easy to understand. The one example she gave of how easy it is for women to understand men is how woman find it so simple to seduce men.
Mmmm-kay. Ladies, allow to say something: seducing men is no challenge. From the case of homosexuals, it is apparent that even men can seduce men. It doesn't mean you understand us, or anything about us, beyond the fat that we like women.
The group of women who claimed to understand men includes, amazingly, every feminist I ever butted heads with back in the university days. This group of women have created a construct that is the necessary enabling condition for all their theories, heaped upon this construct every evil, every vice, everything they hate, and called it "patriarchy." They also imbued this construct patriarchy with will. The patriarchy "wants", it "desires", it has motivations, and its most prominent motivation is the subjection of women. They needed this group, because it justified their existence as a group. A feminist alliance to oppose the patriarchal one. It's as though men wearing hoods meet in selected graveyards throughout the world on the second new moon of the month to meet their leaders.
Leader: Is the subjection of women going according to plan?I must have missed the memos.
Man in hood: Yes, my master.
Leader: Excellent.
Or, back to more writing, and something a little less serious, take the Harry Potter series, which I loved. It, however, had a few glaring flaws. One of them was Harry himself, who was supposed to be an average boy, except he really didn't think like one. For instance, the male drive is overwhelmingly visual. What, then, did his first girlfriend look like? Her appearance should have been catalogued for the reader clearly, or there should have been at least one detail of her upon which he could fixate, not even hair, Rowling's favourite detail. Instead, we are given a single adjective: she was pretty. Wow. What a girl.
Or take the character of Hermione. By Rowling's own admission, Hermione is Rowling herself as a young girl. I would say, she is more of how girls that age saw themselves. She is smarter than the boys, wiser than the boys, more mature than the boys. She is always right. Rowling never misses a chance to show Hermione one up on the boys. Is this possible? maybe. Depends. However, what is unlikely is the boys' reaction to her. They do not find her incredibly annoying, at least not past the first book. As I said, this is how women see themselves, not how boys see them, and this book was written from the perspective of the boy.
***
I will say this for the last book of Twilight: it is pro life of a sort. Bella, the main character, absolutely refuses to abort her vampire/human hybrid baby, even though it puts her life in extreme danger.
***
That's it for now. Posting will be sporadic before, during and shortly after Christmas. Have a Merry one.
13 September 2008
Organs, Organ Report with a little Victorian How-to, and a Video
Jeffrey Tucker at NLM posted yesterday on an article written about the glorious history of the organ, the King of Instruments. Among the tidbits are stories of how a century ago thousands of people lined up to hear top organists play, such as this little story:
All of which brought me back to my own little organ project. Currently, I am sitting at about 140 pipes. My main rank of pipes, wooden inverted mouth flute pipes built to these specifications, is nearly complete.
What to do with these pipes when complete is the next question. I have thought of shortening the procedure by creating a single extended rank of pipes, most likely gedakt, and building an organ around the single rank but using octave couplers, which would effectively make a small three rank organ. However, the draw of a fairly large instrument with multiple ranks is very strong.
The main book I am using, Organ building for Amateurs by Mark Wicks, is rather vague on details, which is how I like it. Wicks' book is a Victorian how-to effort, and of all the how-to books out there, the Victorians are the best. The book made an effort not merely to be informative, but also to be aesthetic and edifying. It is utterly unlike most modern how-to books I know. Most of the modern books are written with a kind of industrial model in mind. The plans tell you to cut five hundred pieces, shape them, then start assembling. The idea that subtle errors creep into our work, or that one of their measurements might be off (and this happens all the time. I have many piles of firewood to attest to this fact.) does not seem to occur to them.
The Victorians, on the other hand, work from an entirely different model. They give a few basic measurements, and after that every other piece must be cut to fit. Wicks is also sensitive to questions such as: How big is your house? What space do you have? Finally, he assumes a basic level of competence in his reader. He gives a few basic designs, and allows the reader to work the rest out, or adjust as circumstances require.
I still have no idea how long this thing is going to take. I have a bunch of other projects to do, so I will finish the last few pipes I have started, then box the whole thing so I can make:
2 desks
1 sewing table
1 dollhouse
various Christmas presents
and a commission I got a while ago.
The last question is, what do I intend to play on my organ when it is finished. Well, there is this piece I have been working on for a long time now, and can play about half of it semi-competently. As with the organ project, I like to aim big. That way, if I fail, I will have failed at something worth trying, rather than some miserable little thing that wouldn't have been worth the effort even if I had succeeded. At any rate, here's someone who can do the whole thing brilliantly:
This is easily one of my favourite organ pieces. There are many versions of it on youtube, some better than others. I chose this one because A. it is excellent; and B. I liked the title given to it: Ton Koopman and his Dancing Shoelaces. With a title like that, it simply had to be chosen.
And now, back to work. As you can tell, I am rather busy at the moment.
'As in England, in America the organ is King,’ wrote the French organ-composer Louis Vierne in 1927, following a phenomenally successful three-month tour of America and Canada. His 50 recitals had drawn in around 70,000 obsessed fans, including some 6,000 at the Wanamaker’s department store in Philadelphia alone, home to the world’s largest organ.In Toronto, 4,000 people crowded into St Michael's Cathedral to hear the dedication concert for the now silent Warren organ. According to the Cathedral website, this organ is slated for restoration. There is some interest in the organ community over this, as the Cathedral organ is the last intact Warren organ of this size.
All of which brought me back to my own little organ project. Currently, I am sitting at about 140 pipes. My main rank of pipes, wooden inverted mouth flute pipes built to these specifications, is nearly complete.
What to do with these pipes when complete is the next question. I have thought of shortening the procedure by creating a single extended rank of pipes, most likely gedakt, and building an organ around the single rank but using octave couplers, which would effectively make a small three rank organ. However, the draw of a fairly large instrument with multiple ranks is very strong.
The main book I am using, Organ building for Amateurs by Mark Wicks, is rather vague on details, which is how I like it. Wicks' book is a Victorian how-to effort, and of all the how-to books out there, the Victorians are the best. The book made an effort not merely to be informative, but also to be aesthetic and edifying. It is utterly unlike most modern how-to books I know. Most of the modern books are written with a kind of industrial model in mind. The plans tell you to cut five hundred pieces, shape them, then start assembling. The idea that subtle errors creep into our work, or that one of their measurements might be off (and this happens all the time. I have many piles of firewood to attest to this fact.) does not seem to occur to them.
The Victorians, on the other hand, work from an entirely different model. They give a few basic measurements, and after that every other piece must be cut to fit. Wicks is also sensitive to questions such as: How big is your house? What space do you have? Finally, he assumes a basic level of competence in his reader. He gives a few basic designs, and allows the reader to work the rest out, or adjust as circumstances require.
I still have no idea how long this thing is going to take. I have a bunch of other projects to do, so I will finish the last few pipes I have started, then box the whole thing so I can make:
2 desks
1 sewing table
1 dollhouse
various Christmas presents
and a commission I got a while ago.
The last question is, what do I intend to play on my organ when it is finished. Well, there is this piece I have been working on for a long time now, and can play about half of it semi-competently. As with the organ project, I like to aim big. That way, if I fail, I will have failed at something worth trying, rather than some miserable little thing that wouldn't have been worth the effort even if I had succeeded. At any rate, here's someone who can do the whole thing brilliantly:
This is easily one of my favourite organ pieces. There are many versions of it on youtube, some better than others. I chose this one because A. it is excellent; and B. I liked the title given to it: Ton Koopman and his Dancing Shoelaces. With a title like that, it simply had to be chosen.
And now, back to work. As you can tell, I am rather busy at the moment.
27 April 2008
Brief roundup.
The Toronto Transit Commission's strike this weekend left us all stranded at home. We didn't even know the strike was on until we were on our way to the bus stop to go to the girls' swimming and ballet lessons yesterday. We couldn't even get to Church today because of it. Wonderful, just wonderful.
We had our first barbecue of the season yesterday, seeing as we weren't going anywhere, and had lots of spare ribs. I barbecue over charcoal: gas is a heresy. A question to those of you who may know: I saw a cooking show which compared Canadian and American barbecue habits. Apparently, in the US it's all about the sauce. They have their own recipes, or their favourite brand, and they cover their meat in one thing or another, or marinade it for hours, and set on the grill. In Canada it is about the meat, and our most common method is to rub in a little oil and salt, and then to the grill. Is this really true? I know my more common method is the 'Canadian' way, but I didn't think I was upholding national stereotypes by so doing.
The music room at the children's school was vandalized, and apparently many instruments were damaged. As a 'punishment' the music teacher is having the kids watch "Grease", until someone 'fesses up and spills on whoever did this. I feel like asking a series of conflicting questions, such as: This is punishment? or Isn't this cruel and unusual punishment? Also, I don't think the movie is appropriate for Catholic schools, when the central message seems to be the timeless and eternal: If you are a girl and want to keep your guy, put out.
We had our first barbecue of the season yesterday, seeing as we weren't going anywhere, and had lots of spare ribs. I barbecue over charcoal: gas is a heresy. A question to those of you who may know: I saw a cooking show which compared Canadian and American barbecue habits. Apparently, in the US it's all about the sauce. They have their own recipes, or their favourite brand, and they cover their meat in one thing or another, or marinade it for hours, and set on the grill. In Canada it is about the meat, and our most common method is to rub in a little oil and salt, and then to the grill. Is this really true? I know my more common method is the 'Canadian' way, but I didn't think I was upholding national stereotypes by so doing.
The music room at the children's school was vandalized, and apparently many instruments were damaged. As a 'punishment' the music teacher is having the kids watch "Grease", until someone 'fesses up and spills on whoever did this. I feel like asking a series of conflicting questions, such as: This is punishment? or Isn't this cruel and unusual punishment? Also, I don't think the movie is appropriate for Catholic schools, when the central message seems to be the timeless and eternal: If you are a girl and want to keep your guy, put out.
25 March 2008
Here and There
I hope all of you had a holy and joyful Easter, and are continuing to be holy and joyful throughout the Easter season.
Holy Week seems to have caused a spike in the number of hits to this site. If anyone who came by then is still around, thanks for dropping by, I hoped you enjoyed the site, and hope you return again.
The Triduum went well for the family. We all attended Mass on the appointed days- although we did skip the Easter Vigil. It is unfortunately too late and too long for the children, and we would have ended up carrying two sleeping children through the subway and buses on our way home. The services were all well done, and any complaints would be superficial and nitpicking. They did omit the Easter Sequence, Victimae Paschale Laudes, but they have never done that at our church. Judging from a few of the other blogs, it was omitted at other places as well. There must be something that can be done, it is supposed to be in the Mass. I'll begin with prayer, and go from there.
Younger was given a little colouring booklet of the Stations of the Cross. She and I went around the stations in the church before the Good Friday Service, and she read from her little booklet. The booklet was surprisingly better than what we usually get from the schools, in that it did focus on how Christ suffered for us. The only oddity was the eighth station, Jesus speaks to the women of Jerusalem. The booklet said the women were sad to see Jesus suffering, but Jesus stopped and spoke to them to make them feel better. Perhaps I'm being obtuse, but telling a group of people that there will come a time when they will cry out "mountains, fall on us" is not exactly "comforting". Quite a few people got a kick out of seeing the little girl leading her father around the stations (honestly, when she pulls me around she looks like a bossy little tugboat leading a bemused battleship) but none thought it may be an idea to emulate her.
Both our children were very well behaved at Mass, and I am proud of both of them.
On Holy Saturday I took my friend from work whom I have mentioned before and his girlfriend on a tour of a few of the older churches of Toronto, plus the Oratory. It went well, and I'll post about it later when I have a little time. To anyone who prayed for my friend, thank you and please continue. There has been progress.
Lastly, I would like to send out greetings and best wishes to anyone who joined the Church last Saturday, and give them what is becoming the traditional welcome from us old Catholics to any new Catholics: Welcome to the Barque of Peter. Here's your bucket. Now start bailing.
Holy Week seems to have caused a spike in the number of hits to this site. If anyone who came by then is still around, thanks for dropping by, I hoped you enjoyed the site, and hope you return again.
The Triduum went well for the family. We all attended Mass on the appointed days- although we did skip the Easter Vigil. It is unfortunately too late and too long for the children, and we would have ended up carrying two sleeping children through the subway and buses on our way home. The services were all well done, and any complaints would be superficial and nitpicking. They did omit the Easter Sequence, Victimae Paschale Laudes, but they have never done that at our church. Judging from a few of the other blogs, it was omitted at other places as well. There must be something that can be done, it is supposed to be in the Mass. I'll begin with prayer, and go from there.
Younger was given a little colouring booklet of the Stations of the Cross. She and I went around the stations in the church before the Good Friday Service, and she read from her little booklet. The booklet was surprisingly better than what we usually get from the schools, in that it did focus on how Christ suffered for us. The only oddity was the eighth station, Jesus speaks to the women of Jerusalem. The booklet said the women were sad to see Jesus suffering, but Jesus stopped and spoke to them to make them feel better. Perhaps I'm being obtuse, but telling a group of people that there will come a time when they will cry out "mountains, fall on us" is not exactly "comforting". Quite a few people got a kick out of seeing the little girl leading her father around the stations (honestly, when she pulls me around she looks like a bossy little tugboat leading a bemused battleship) but none thought it may be an idea to emulate her.
Both our children were very well behaved at Mass, and I am proud of both of them.
On Holy Saturday I took my friend from work whom I have mentioned before and his girlfriend on a tour of a few of the older churches of Toronto, plus the Oratory. It went well, and I'll post about it later when I have a little time. To anyone who prayed for my friend, thank you and please continue. There has been progress.
Lastly, I would like to send out greetings and best wishes to anyone who joined the Church last Saturday, and give them what is becoming the traditional welcome from us old Catholics to any new Catholics: Welcome to the Barque of Peter. Here's your bucket. Now start bailing.
8 March 2008
Best Laid Plans
There's an old saying: "If you wish to make God laugh, tell Him your plans." I think he's yucking it up right now, as the plans Puff and I made for our daughters' March Break just got buried under a ton of snow. Every time I looked out the window today it was like looking at the inside of a ping pong ball.
The plans were simple, faith, fun, education,- although we were going to try and hide the education under some fun. A couple of our plans involved taking outdoor day trips. The first was a trip for family research. I've been teaching the children our family history, and we've traveled around a bit, finding the places our ancestors knew and finding their final resting places. We take photographs and tombstone rubbings. There were just three direct line ancestors left for us to find, and we were going to find them on the break. Unfortunately, they're under several feet of snow now. Looks like something for summer vacation now.
The other day trip is iffy. Elder had just done a unit at school about the Jesuit mission to Huronia. So I thought, 'Let's go to the place where it all happened' and planned a trip to Martyr's shrine. Unfortunately, that's in the snowbelt. It's under more snow than we are. Argh.
So, time to rearrange, come up with new ideas. I got until tomorrow.
The plans were simple, faith, fun, education,- although we were going to try and hide the education under some fun. A couple of our plans involved taking outdoor day trips. The first was a trip for family research. I've been teaching the children our family history, and we've traveled around a bit, finding the places our ancestors knew and finding their final resting places. We take photographs and tombstone rubbings. There were just three direct line ancestors left for us to find, and we were going to find them on the break. Unfortunately, they're under several feet of snow now. Looks like something for summer vacation now.
The other day trip is iffy. Elder had just done a unit at school about the Jesuit mission to Huronia. So I thought, 'Let's go to the place where it all happened' and planned a trip to Martyr's shrine. Unfortunately, that's in the snowbelt. It's under more snow than we are. Argh.
So, time to rearrange, come up with new ideas. I got until tomorrow.
10 January 2008
Been busy
Posting is still a little light. I'm up to my eyeballs at work, Puff is back on her meds, including one which makes her sleepy, so I haven't had time to get around to the meme or the Blessing with which I've been tagged. Nor have Puff and I trolled the web for Church News, of which there is always a fair amount. (personally, I'm looking forward to the clarification on Summorum Pontificum, and apparently I was wrong in my assumption that the Pope's third encyclical would be on Faith) Haven't had any time to think Deep Thoughts on Deep Subjects either, and the news has been rather thin except for saturation on the American election, (about which I am hesitant to comment, since I am Canadian.) so I'm a little hard up for topics.
Hopefully I'll get some topic coming up to sink my teeth into soon. Lately, the free time I've had (measured in minutes and seconds) I've spent in the shop- or The Lair of the Catholic Galoot as I am starting to think of it. I could regale you with tales of wood and saws and carving and treadle lathes and experiments in making organ pipes, (Incidentally, I finally managed to successfully make a stopt Diapason pipe. This is something of an achievement.) but I suspect most people would be bored.
Perhaps I should do like Dale Price, and have a poll on what topics you readers would like to see in 2008. Feel free to use the combox.
Hopefully I'll get some topic coming up to sink my teeth into soon. Lately, the free time I've had (measured in minutes and seconds) I've spent in the shop- or The Lair of the Catholic Galoot as I am starting to think of it. I could regale you with tales of wood and saws and carving and treadle lathes and experiments in making organ pipes, (Incidentally, I finally managed to successfully make a stopt Diapason pipe. This is something of an achievement.) but I suspect most people would be bored.
Perhaps I should do like Dale Price, and have a poll on what topics you readers would like to see in 2008. Feel free to use the combox.
31 December 2007
Roundup
Haven't blogged much this week, as we've been too busy racing around, seeing people we usually don't see and most likely won't see for another year; helping the children play with their new toys; multiple trips to church. There hasn't been much time for blogging. There's still a blessing that I have to deal with. I'll try and do that later. Some notes, though: first, the good:
We met BroAJK on Friday and had a lovely visit. We showed him a few of our church treasures, although not all that successfully. We wanted to show him Toronto's most beautiful church, St Paul's basilica, but we walked in just as a wedding was about to start, thus cutting that visit short. He seemed to be impressed. We also took him to the Oratory parish, which he seemed to like, although his phrase was: "It's not sterile." We ate and talked and had a good visit, and look forward to seeing him again.
The less than good: dinner with in laws. The dinner went well, but then we started talking at the end. I was speaking with my brother-in-law and unfortunately population came up, and also assistance to the poor, two of his themes. He believes, and I quote , "Population control is a good thing." (incidentally, his wife had her tubes tied. Before that they used condoms. DAMHIKT.) Further, as we talked about assistance to the poor, he reiterated his usual position: he is all for helping them in theory, but none of the charities out there does any real good, in his opinion, so he gives them nothing. I discussed with him several methods for giving aid, but he believed them all to be deficient in the end.
Unfortunately, I find him to be an average nominative Catholic. He believes, yes, but feels the message does not apply to him in his situation. He would do good, but the appropriate time just hasn't come, so he feels he is living the Christian life because he would do the right thing only if only the right opportunity would arise, an opportunity he could agree with. In short, his vices are real and his virtues are imaginary. Pray for this man lest he finds himself before his judge very unprepared.
In a side note, they have taught their children their own beliefs, and at one time the wife, Puff's sister, was teaching a class of first communicants that the Eucharist was symbolic. We had quite a row over that one. I don't know if she actually changed her view. Somehow, I doubt it. Pray for her too.
Still, the week has been fun. The holidays end too soon. The end of the year usually brings about ruminations of what we have done, our achievements and our failures. At this point, beyond being a year closer to death, I can't see anything worth writing over.
Happy New Year to you all.
We met BroAJK on Friday and had a lovely visit. We showed him a few of our church treasures, although not all that successfully. We wanted to show him Toronto's most beautiful church, St Paul's basilica, but we walked in just as a wedding was about to start, thus cutting that visit short. He seemed to be impressed. We also took him to the Oratory parish, which he seemed to like, although his phrase was: "It's not sterile." We ate and talked and had a good visit, and look forward to seeing him again.
The less than good: dinner with in laws. The dinner went well, but then we started talking at the end. I was speaking with my brother-in-law and unfortunately population came up, and also assistance to the poor, two of his themes. He believes, and I quote , "Population control is a good thing." (incidentally, his wife had her tubes tied. Before that they used condoms. DAMHIKT.) Further, as we talked about assistance to the poor, he reiterated his usual position: he is all for helping them in theory, but none of the charities out there does any real good, in his opinion, so he gives them nothing. I discussed with him several methods for giving aid, but he believed them all to be deficient in the end.
Unfortunately, I find him to be an average nominative Catholic. He believes, yes, but feels the message does not apply to him in his situation. He would do good, but the appropriate time just hasn't come, so he feels he is living the Christian life because he would do the right thing only if only the right opportunity would arise, an opportunity he could agree with. In short, his vices are real and his virtues are imaginary. Pray for this man lest he finds himself before his judge very unprepared.
In a side note, they have taught their children their own beliefs, and at one time the wife, Puff's sister, was teaching a class of first communicants that the Eucharist was symbolic. We had quite a row over that one. I don't know if she actually changed her view. Somehow, I doubt it. Pray for her too.
Still, the week has been fun. The holidays end too soon. The end of the year usually brings about ruminations of what we have done, our achievements and our failures. At this point, beyond being a year closer to death, I can't see anything worth writing over.
Happy New Year to you all.
24 September 2007
Roundup
Well, it's been a time. The kids are back in school. All the fine young gods and goddesses have returned to the university at which I work, where they proceeded to get some education between bouts of drunken partying and whatnot. Heavy on the whatnot, or perhaps I should say "shouldnot".
The atmosphere here presents some odd challenges to raising children. The other day Puff and younger were at a bus stop. Standing near them was some young thing wearing five inch wooden platform heels along with a low slung hip-hugger skirt that apparently was one step away from a belt. Her torso was covered, somewhat, by a 'sweetheart' bustier. Naturally younger spotted her instantly. "Mummy, mummy," she said in that oh so quiet voice that carries everywhere. "Why is she dressed like that?" One of those moments which the parenting manuals don't exactly cover.
Also, the Fine Arts department here- specifically, the part of the department dedicated to the visual arts- is completely bereft of ideas, or wit, or talent, or any reason for being. They are merely spinning out tired ideas and turning out pointless crud, making sculptures that look like a disaster in a scrapyard or fashioned by an idiot with astigmatism and a blowtorch.. If they kept it in their building, where one would have to go out of one's way to see it, I wouldn't care. But no, they want to put it in your face. You have to go out of your way not to see it. But ugly is not all. Occasionally they make use of the wonderfully witty value of cheap shock. Basically, put a penis on anything and call it Art. Then, when the predictable public outrage occurs, claim your artistic integrity is being compromised and you freedom of expression is being suppressed. Don't forget to claim your degree on the way out. Don't let the fact that you don't know which end of a paintbrush goes into the paint prevent you from calling yourself an artist.
On a personal note, I received two rather nice compliments on my voice on the weekend, which gave me a nice comfortable glow until reality returned in the form a a few bills. One was to put back into winter storage the boat I could not afford to use at all this year as I had to pay for elder's braces. This was further exacerbated by the fact that I only get paid once a month, and develop a peptic ulcer watching my account dwindle on down over the next few weeks, and feel a cold sweat develop during the last few days.
Still, younger gave me a good reminder of the important things in life. She asked me to give her a little lesson on playing the organ (she can now spot C,D and E, and can work out the rest) so I taught her for a little while. Then she asked if we could make popcorn and put on one of her old Barbie movies. If a few minutes of her and I on the bench, followed by a cheesy movie enriched by ten cents worth of popcorn are all it takes to make her happy and content, then money isn't all it's wrapped up to be. No, I don't have much money for the kids and family, but I can still give them my time.
The atmosphere here presents some odd challenges to raising children. The other day Puff and younger were at a bus stop. Standing near them was some young thing wearing five inch wooden platform heels along with a low slung hip-hugger skirt that apparently was one step away from a belt. Her torso was covered, somewhat, by a 'sweetheart' bustier. Naturally younger spotted her instantly. "Mummy, mummy," she said in that oh so quiet voice that carries everywhere. "Why is she dressed like that?" One of those moments which the parenting manuals don't exactly cover.
Also, the Fine Arts department here- specifically, the part of the department dedicated to the visual arts- is completely bereft of ideas, or wit, or talent, or any reason for being. They are merely spinning out tired ideas and turning out pointless crud, making sculptures that look like a disaster in a scrapyard or fashioned by an idiot with astigmatism and a blowtorch.. If they kept it in their building, where one would have to go out of one's way to see it, I wouldn't care. But no, they want to put it in your face. You have to go out of your way not to see it. But ugly is not all. Occasionally they make use of the wonderfully witty value of cheap shock. Basically, put a penis on anything and call it Art. Then, when the predictable public outrage occurs, claim your artistic integrity is being compromised and you freedom of expression is being suppressed. Don't forget to claim your degree on the way out. Don't let the fact that you don't know which end of a paintbrush goes into the paint prevent you from calling yourself an artist.
On a personal note, I received two rather nice compliments on my voice on the weekend, which gave me a nice comfortable glow until reality returned in the form a a few bills. One was to put back into winter storage the boat I could not afford to use at all this year as I had to pay for elder's braces. This was further exacerbated by the fact that I only get paid once a month, and develop a peptic ulcer watching my account dwindle on down over the next few weeks, and feel a cold sweat develop during the last few days.
Still, younger gave me a good reminder of the important things in life. She asked me to give her a little lesson on playing the organ (she can now spot C,D and E, and can work out the rest) so I taught her for a little while. Then she asked if we could make popcorn and put on one of her old Barbie movies. If a few minutes of her and I on the bench, followed by a cheesy movie enriched by ten cents worth of popcorn are all it takes to make her happy and content, then money isn't all it's wrapped up to be. No, I don't have much money for the kids and family, but I can still give them my time.
1 July 2007
On a lighter note
Ever since Rome released the Ten Commandments for Drivers we have been hearing it trotted out and generally held up for ridicule. Some Catholic bloggers have joined in on the fun, and to be honest and fair, the document did lend itself to parody very nicely.
But parodies aside, the document is simply a reminder to us all that we are Catholic and we are to behave as Catholics, whether we are at home, or at Church, at work, at play, or even in a car.
But parodies aside, the document is simply a reminder to us all that we are Catholic and we are to behave as Catholics, whether we are at home, or at Church, at work, at play, or even in a car.
13 April 2007
quick roundup
I took Elder to the get an ultrasound today, along with some blood work and urinalysis. Nothing came of the ultrasound immediately, so it's probably not too bad.
Elder's problem was that every week she would be sick for a day or so, and then fine, and then sick again the next week. This week's round began with her coming into our bedroom at 3 in the morning on Wednesday and saying: "Daddy, I feel nauseous." I was pinned in my bed between younger and Puff (how it is that I, by far larger than the other two put together, still get stuck with the smallest amount of space in bed will be fodder for another post), plus- did I mention it was 3 am?- my ability to empathize at the wee hours of the morning is minimal, so I called from my position, "Get to the bathroom!" Where she went and proceeded to be loudly ill, which woke Puff, (who could snore through the Apocalypse, I am sure), who turned to me and said: "Wuzz goin' on?" At which point Elder's voice came plaintively back to us from the bathroom: "Daddy, I missed the toilet."
Puff immediately clicked in: "She's calling you," she said.
"Yeah," I replied. "But I'm pinned down here. You go take care of it." I can make an asset out of anything.
We debated until Puff said "Fine!" and got up. During which Elder felt nauseous again and ran to the other bathroom. Just as Puff had finished up, we heard the weak voice come to us "Oh no, I missed again." Puff came into the room. "You're turn," she said. And so on for the rest of the night.
So we took her to the doctor who examined her and noticed she was in pain around her liver and gallbladder, so he sent us for the ultrasound. The technicians wouldn't tell us anything for the time being, which may be a good sign, or at least a sign that this is not an emergency.
I thank you all for your prayers.
Elder's problem was that every week she would be sick for a day or so, and then fine, and then sick again the next week. This week's round began with her coming into our bedroom at 3 in the morning on Wednesday and saying: "Daddy, I feel nauseous." I was pinned in my bed between younger and Puff (how it is that I, by far larger than the other two put together, still get stuck with the smallest amount of space in bed will be fodder for another post), plus- did I mention it was 3 am?- my ability to empathize at the wee hours of the morning is minimal, so I called from my position, "Get to the bathroom!" Where she went and proceeded to be loudly ill, which woke Puff, (who could snore through the Apocalypse, I am sure), who turned to me and said: "Wuzz goin' on?" At which point Elder's voice came plaintively back to us from the bathroom: "Daddy, I missed the toilet."
Puff immediately clicked in: "She's calling you," she said.
"Yeah," I replied. "But I'm pinned down here. You go take care of it." I can make an asset out of anything.
We debated until Puff said "Fine!" and got up. During which Elder felt nauseous again and ran to the other bathroom. Just as Puff had finished up, we heard the weak voice come to us "Oh no, I missed again." Puff came into the room. "You're turn," she said. And so on for the rest of the night.
So we took her to the doctor who examined her and noticed she was in pain around her liver and gallbladder, so he sent us for the ultrasound. The technicians wouldn't tell us anything for the time being, which may be a good sign, or at least a sign that this is not an emergency.
I thank you all for your prayers.
5 March 2007
roundup
A few personal points from last week stand out for me here. First, my boss, who got me my job, was abruptly fired on Tuesday for reasons no one knows. He handled it well and was allowed to say his goodbyes to us as he was escorted out. I considered him a friend, and miss him. I will remember him in my prayers, doubly so as he was an atheist.
On Friday we were herded into a meeting in which I made any number of enemies. The current heads wanted us to "discuss" issues we had with the workplace and brainstorm ideas for "solutions". We spent the first half of the meeting outlining problems and took a break before we were to come back and discuss solutions. However, upon returning the managers outlined their solution to our problem, which they had obviously decided upon before the meeting. I made any number of enemies by telling them the plan wouldn't work. It had actually been tried and failed some time ago, but managers don't last long enough to know what happened way back, oh, last week. Plus, key to their plan was maintaining communications with our suppliers, which was the job of the man they had just fired.
As an antidote this kind of nonsense I like to bake with the girls. Younger's favourite thing to make is brownies, and I have grandma's old recipe. It's simple and has absolutely no healthy ingredients, and that's the way I like it. Maybe I'll post it here one day. Younger's favourite part of baking her favourite recipe is licking the bowl. I don't scrape the bowls clean into the pan anymore just so I can see the look on her face as she tucks into a big mess of batter. That, and I get to see the look on Puff''s face when she sees our chocolate covered daughter.
I ended up taking the brownies to one of my two choir practices on Saturday. Both practices were enjoyable. I also feel- i don't know- pity, I guess, for the directors. I could never do it. They have to deal with people far too often for my taste. People, even Catholic people, are stupid. Speaking to people and listening to them pass their opinions on my hard work would drive me spare. I get like Alice from Dilbert: "Must... Control... Fist... Of... Death." The director for the Tridentine Mass Schola constantly gets contradictory messages. "More chant." "Less chant." "I like this" "I hate this" "Hymns!" "No Hymns!" Even the trads can't agree. One fellow the week before last told the priest to fire the director because for Lent he changed the usual Credo (Credo III) to another one (Credo I) which the fellow didn't know. He wanted "his" Credo back. Last week we handed out music to Credo I to help the people along. This fellow asked the director "Which one is it? Mine or yours?" To which the director gave the perfect answer: "It's God's. Here."
The other choir is again having problems. After a few weeks of steady improvement we find ourselves back at square one. Week before last the sopranos and altos again stopped singing in the middle of the Communion Hymn because the EMHC had just come up to the choir loft, leaving me doing the Bass line as a solo. At practice I told them that if they ever strand me like that again they may as well ask the minister to give them Last Rites as well as communion. So they didn't wander off this time. But they still have problems. This week they couldn't figure out wether or not we were actually going to sing a certain hymn even though 1. it was listed on the board and 2. the director was repeatedly playing the opening on the organ while 3. gesticulating with increasingly wild gestures for people to join in. Eventually I started it off and they joined in... but jeez. And I had brought them brownies and everything.
We were also continuing our experiment with singing the antiphons. This was just the men, me and two new guys. Unfortunately, they are inexperienced at this kind of singing and were not doing well. The music director couldn't do it as his voice is shot. So I did the only thing I could: I drowned out the other guys. Hey, a man's gotta do... until someone fires him for doing it. But we'll always have church. And brownies.
On Friday we were herded into a meeting in which I made any number of enemies. The current heads wanted us to "discuss" issues we had with the workplace and brainstorm ideas for "solutions". We spent the first half of the meeting outlining problems and took a break before we were to come back and discuss solutions. However, upon returning the managers outlined their solution to our problem, which they had obviously decided upon before the meeting. I made any number of enemies by telling them the plan wouldn't work. It had actually been tried and failed some time ago, but managers don't last long enough to know what happened way back, oh, last week. Plus, key to their plan was maintaining communications with our suppliers, which was the job of the man they had just fired.
As an antidote this kind of nonsense I like to bake with the girls. Younger's favourite thing to make is brownies, and I have grandma's old recipe. It's simple and has absolutely no healthy ingredients, and that's the way I like it. Maybe I'll post it here one day. Younger's favourite part of baking her favourite recipe is licking the bowl. I don't scrape the bowls clean into the pan anymore just so I can see the look on her face as she tucks into a big mess of batter. That, and I get to see the look on Puff''s face when she sees our chocolate covered daughter.
I ended up taking the brownies to one of my two choir practices on Saturday. Both practices were enjoyable. I also feel- i don't know- pity, I guess, for the directors. I could never do it. They have to deal with people far too often for my taste. People, even Catholic people, are stupid. Speaking to people and listening to them pass their opinions on my hard work would drive me spare. I get like Alice from Dilbert: "Must... Control... Fist... Of... Death." The director for the Tridentine Mass Schola constantly gets contradictory messages. "More chant." "Less chant." "I like this" "I hate this" "Hymns!" "No Hymns!" Even the trads can't agree. One fellow the week before last told the priest to fire the director because for Lent he changed the usual Credo (Credo III) to another one (Credo I) which the fellow didn't know. He wanted "his" Credo back. Last week we handed out music to Credo I to help the people along. This fellow asked the director "Which one is it? Mine or yours?" To which the director gave the perfect answer: "It's God's. Here."
The other choir is again having problems. After a few weeks of steady improvement we find ourselves back at square one. Week before last the sopranos and altos again stopped singing in the middle of the Communion Hymn because the EMHC had just come up to the choir loft, leaving me doing the Bass line as a solo. At practice I told them that if they ever strand me like that again they may as well ask the minister to give them Last Rites as well as communion. So they didn't wander off this time. But they still have problems. This week they couldn't figure out wether or not we were actually going to sing a certain hymn even though 1. it was listed on the board and 2. the director was repeatedly playing the opening on the organ while 3. gesticulating with increasingly wild gestures for people to join in. Eventually I started it off and they joined in... but jeez. And I had brought them brownies and everything.
We were also continuing our experiment with singing the antiphons. This was just the men, me and two new guys. Unfortunately, they are inexperienced at this kind of singing and were not doing well. The music director couldn't do it as his voice is shot. So I did the only thing I could: I drowned out the other guys. Hey, a man's gotta do... until someone fires him for doing it. But we'll always have church. And brownies.
24 February 2007
weekly roundup
I don't normally follow the news, or "news", and this week was a fair example why. From what I can tell, the week's top stories involved a corpse and a bad haircut. Back when I was n university one of my professors went on at great length about what she referred to as "anti-news." The example she used was Marilyn Monroe. There were, and still are, large debates going on over the significance of Monroe. Was she abused? Used? Was she a user? Was she a symbol of a female oppressed by the patriarchy or a protofeminist? and so on. The issue is not whether you agree or disagree with these points, but that whether you agree or disagree, you are still talking about Monroe and all the other topics that may be discussed and covered in the news are shoved deep into the back pages or left out entirely. Not only does it fail to inform us, but it blocks out other information by its mere size and presence. Lastly, whatever our opinions on items such as these may be, our opinions are ultilmately pointless, as there is utterly nothing we may do one way or the other, except pray. And again, on news that may affect us, or about which we may act, the newspapers are silent, and give us only the stars. Sorry, I mean "stars".
I think of the Read Report from the early seventies. The report was commissioned by the federal governement to look into the influence of newspapers on Canadian society, specifically, did newspapers control what Canadians thought? The answer to that question, according to the report was, in paraphrase: no, not exactly. Canadians often disagreed with the opinions they found in the papers. So newspapers did not control what Canadians thought. But on the other hand, Canadians debated the news they were presented endlessly, and they got that news from the papers. Therefore, while newspapers did not Control what Canadians thought, to a great degree they did control what Canadians thought about.
And here we are. Corpses and haircuts, stars on red carpets, who is in rehab and who is not in rehab and who is back in rehab, and the affairs and breakups, followed by more affairs, and more breakups. It is like living in a sewer, surrounded by filth and rats. At most I feel pity for the people involved, and offer prayers that they may turn and see the Truth. But to know about these people and to know why we know about these people is to be degraded.
Here ends Spirit Sword's (2)'s first anti-post.
I think of the Read Report from the early seventies. The report was commissioned by the federal governement to look into the influence of newspapers on Canadian society, specifically, did newspapers control what Canadians thought? The answer to that question, according to the report was, in paraphrase: no, not exactly. Canadians often disagreed with the opinions they found in the papers. So newspapers did not control what Canadians thought. But on the other hand, Canadians debated the news they were presented endlessly, and they got that news from the papers. Therefore, while newspapers did not Control what Canadians thought, to a great degree they did control what Canadians thought about.
And here we are. Corpses and haircuts, stars on red carpets, who is in rehab and who is not in rehab and who is back in rehab, and the affairs and breakups, followed by more affairs, and more breakups. It is like living in a sewer, surrounded by filth and rats. At most I feel pity for the people involved, and offer prayers that they may turn and see the Truth. But to know about these people and to know why we know about these people is to be degraded.
Here ends Spirit Sword's (2)'s first anti-post.
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