If I were independently wealthy and didn't need to work, I'd be there actually reading the Kerouac novel.
Sunday was Trinity Sunday. We are now fully in the season after Epiphany. We had a late Ash Wednesday/Holy Week/Easter this year, and so a late Pentecost, meaning the stretch of ordinary time from now until the first Sunday of Advent will be shorter this year than it has been the past couple. But here we are. And that’s OK.
As much as I love the festival portion of the liturgical year, I really love the green season as well. Nothing special. Nothing out of the ordinary. Just the Word and the Meal in its most straightforward form. (Of course there are those unpleasant readings that we get the last few weeks in the season after Pentecost. But that’s another matter. And a ways off.)
For now I’m going to enjoy the sacred ordinary of ordinary time.
I had such fun posting the videos of "Hail Thee Festival Day" and "Lift Every Voice" after Easter, that I thought I would try a "Sacred Music Friday" for a while.
Today: "Oh God Beyond All Praising." Tune is from Gustav Holst's "Jupiter" in The Planets.
One thing about Alaska is that you have some different offerings in your food selections. Not on the cruise ship, really, but on land. Taking the railway from Whittier to Denali, one of our choices was reindeer nachos. Now I really have no interest in eating reindeer. But it was a long, ten-hour trip, the food choices were limited, my blood sugar was dropping and I was getting woozy. It was the best option for protein at the time. Not bad. Not great. A tad rich, but it did the job.
When we arrived at Denali we ate at the local restaurant across the street from the Princess Lodge. Terry’s choice was elk sliders. She offered me a bite. I declined.
Now none of this would make any sense unless I had become a vegetarian, which I hadn’t. After all, I eat beef, chicken, and pork, too, in the form of bacon. I have guilt feelings about the first and the third, but that doesn’t keep me from having the occasional hamburger or the frequent strip of bacon at breakfast.
At the same time I refuse to eat lamb, veal, and venison. Lamb I won’t eat…just because. You probably understand about veal, though I’m told that veal today is for the most part not the veal of the traditional definition. As for venison, I refuse to eat Bambi’s mother or father, and hate the gamy taste anyway. Besides, I really dislike mint jelly with meat.
As I said, none of this makes any rational sense. But then for most of us, how many of our eating habits do make rational sense?
In my attempt to lighten my camera load I bought a pocket Canon SX210IS, as I've written about here. I took it to Alaska and got some great pictures. But it wasn't quite what I wanted. My focus these days is more on writing and less on photography, so I don't intend to go back to the full DSLR with multiple lenses. But I needed something more than a pocket camera.
I had checked with my friend Lynn, who had bought the SX210IS and taken it to Alaska. (Yes, I was following her guidance.) She had previously had a "compact" digital – something with the look and feel of a DSLR, but smaller and with a single, non-interchangeable lens. After getting back from Alaska I asked her about this, and she said she was perfectly happy with that, but she just wanted something something smaller for Alaska. Her compact was a Canon, but I am a Nikon fan and so researched that.
The newest is the P500, which I checked out online. I decided it was exactly what I wanted, and so ordered it. My experience so far is wonderful. It feels like a DSLR in my hand, but smaller. I am familiar with the controls from my Nikon D70. It takes great pictures.
I think I have found the right camera for me. It will let me take pictures when I feel so inclined, while leaving me the space to focus on writing.
I've been seeing my spiritual director, Linda, for several years now. One of the topics we've discussed with some regularity is prayer, and what works for me. I've tried a number of different things, and nothing has quite stuck. It hit me right before our Alaska trip that I needed something tactile. Something tactile. Prayer beads, right? Right! And where could I find prayer beads? Hmmm… I could check Amazon, I guess. But wait. I know where I can find prayer beads. St. John the Divine has a guild called Simply Divine that makes soaps, salt scrubs, and, yes, prayer beads. Duh.
I told this to Linda in our meeting right after the Alaska trip. She called it a "Holy Spirit moment," because she was thinking about how I might re-experience my Icy Point moment. She was thinking it needed to be something tactile. Prayer beads.
My first Sunday back at St. John's I found a set that I liked.
I know that there are prescribed techniques for using prayer beads, but I see prayer beads in the same way I see cooking: I do what works for me.
What works for me is to work through the beads reading something from the Book of Common Prayer. It doesn't matter what. Sunday morning Rite II, Morning Prayer, the Individual Prayers section, whatever. I've used other sources as well.
I've found something that works, and I am delighted.
Yes, my wife is doing one of the Susan G. Komen 3-day walks. Her sister, Miss Jill Jock, aka Julie, laid down the gauntlet and Terry accepted the challenge. She will be walking in San Diego in November. She is committed to this and has already started training. When Terry sets her mind to something I don't get in the way. I know better.
Her Web page is here.
I have to tell you that, yes, this is a shameless promotion asking for your support. Terry has committed to raising $2,300. If you are able and so inclined, your financial support is greatly appreciated. If it's moral support you're offering, leave your comments here and I'll see that Terry sees them.
Breast cancer is one of those things that we would prefer to sweep under the carpet, but it is real. My mother died of breast cancer. My Aunt Dorothy, my dad's sister, did as well.
We have all been affected one way or the other. Terry and I greatly appreciate your support, whether it's financial, moral, or both.