I have never read The Wizard of Oz, and I know there are bound to be some differences between the book and the movie. Can someone tell me what ever happens to Toto upon "returning" to Kansas? I mean, do they still put the little terrier to sleep? The situation between Toto and Miss Gulch is still a situation, isn't it?
Ugh. Another sleepless night ahead of me.
Jack Henry Lyons was baptized today, this fourth Sunday of Easter, this Good Shepherd Sunday. Here he is with Fr Jack.
The King of Love my Shepherd is,
Whose goodness faileth never;
I nothing lack if I am His
And He is mine for ever.
Where streams of living water flow
My ransomed soul He leadeth,
And where the verdant pastures grow
With food celestial feedeth.
Perverse and foolish oft I strayed,
But yet in love He sought me,
And on His shoulder gently laid,
And home rejoicing brought me.
In death's dark vale I fear no ill
With thee, dear Lord, beside me;
Thy rod and staff my comfort still,
Thy cross before to guide me.
Thou spread'st a table in my sight;
Thy unction grace bestoweth;
And O what transport of delight
From Thy pure chalice floweth!
And so through all the length of days
Thy goodness faileth never:
Good Shepherd, may I sing Thy praise
Within Thy house for ever.
Sophie's been home the past two days - mostly coughing and having a high temperature. She has a temperature again tonight, but she so needs to be in school. I made her go to Faith Formation last night with a temperature on account of all the misses from sickness she's already had and that she seems as fit as a fiddle during the day. (She doesn't like Faith Formation because, "It's b-o-r-i-n-g" - and, yes, she spelled it. Bully for her in regards to her spelling.)
Jack's sick too, but seems to be recovering quickly.
Netflix update - what's at home: Night at the Museum - 4 stars; Children of Men - 4 stars; The Holiday - Haven't watched it yet.
Night at the Museum is a funny clean film - anybody could enjoy it, though it might be too unsophisticated for some of you. Some movies are better with children.
Now Children of Men is a fascinating movie. If you've read the book, the movie's different. Sure that goes without saying, but this movie seems to see no need to go much further than the premise of the novel. As disappointing as that is, however, this movie is still a powerful look at humanity and how we value and devalue life.
About American Idol - I'm so glad they've raised so much money for AIDS victims in Africa, I really am, but every time I see them talking about their charity I can't get the Sermon on the Mount out of my head - left and right hands and all that (I recognize that many of those participating are not Christians, but still, it's ridiculously self-aggrandizing all the same). I even read a serious question on another blog asking Who has done more for the poor, the Church or Bono? and I wanted to vomit. And not because I don't respect the heartbeat of Bono, but Jeez Louise, are people so blind? I also don't much care for the carting out of celebrity every few years as a platform for them to tell me how much money they give.
Deaf ears.
I know, too ornery. Sorry.
I'm currently reading two books: The Children of Húrin by Tolkien and The Quotidian Mysteries by Kathleen Norris. Incredible books, both of them. I'll be writing about each later.
I would like to quickly plug Quotidian for those of you who have a home or at some time in your life have had to repeat an activity in your life (say shaving or getting dressed or brushing your teeth). This is a must-read. A blog-friend sent this book my way (Thanks, Penni!). It is the perfect book for me - even though the subtitle reads, "Laundry, Liturgy and 'Women's Work.' "
Hahaa. *slaps knee*
I crack me up.
I'm not sure if the name Elaine Pagels means anything to you or not. But she and Bart Ehrman (former Wheaton grad, now unbeliever) seem to be the leading textual-criticism darlings of those who would contest the gospel and therefore the veracity of the New Testament Scriptures. They say that the early Church fathers censured/buried any of the early writings that didn't agree with what they were teaching - as if antiquity itself is reason enough for our acceptance of these writings (Why should we accept John's gospel over Judas's? they would ask).
Indeed, the early fathers did bury these texts. This is one of the reasons why we submit to the authority of the Church - she alone has and has had the authority to decide what is orthodoxy and what is heterodoxy. It is because of her, guided by the Holy Spirit, that we have the New Testament canon as we have it.
HT: Mike Aquilina, and a trail of others
My favorite writer is William Shakespeare. Yesterday was the 391st anniversary of his death. And some would say the 443th anniversary of his birth. You see, his baptism was on April 26. So some believe, since the baptism usually took place two or three days after the birth that perhaps he was born and died on the same day. All of which is conjecture and doesn't amount to a hill of beans.
I love the man's work. My first son is named after him. And when I hear a line from one of his plays, such as the famous one above pulled from the balcony soliloquy, my soul responds. Poetry is visceral. It grabs the attention of the heart, the soul.
Now not all poets are created equal. Some are quite bad. But Shakespeare, he did it well.
The yellow-haired child has been carrying around a jar full of grass the past couple of days - and an eastern tent caterpillar. She loves him. Though sometimes he's a her. It's all quite confusing to me even though I've been told by her and Anna how to tell the difference between a male and a female - the male has a yellow butt. Apparently.
She was quite upset, to tears, when Char or Ellafrella, fell between the cracks of our porch into Daddy-No-Gettum-Land. I was asked, with tears on her face to cut down the porch in order to fetch hi... her, but I declined.
We are currently looking for another calipitter.
I'll be in the yard today. I have lots of outside work planned, from mowing and weeding to washing the house. Fortunately for me, it's supposed to be a gorgeous day today. Unfortunately for me, my time outside won't be spent in a hammock sipping mint juleps - or whatever is appropriate to my geographical existence. Maybe I'll skip the juleps for some sweet tea. Or maybe I won't since I'll be working and I do not own a hammock. Thank God for iPods and that the ensuing deafness that follows mowing the lawn while simultaneously listening to a cranked-up iPod is only temporary.
In other far-more-important news, Jack Henry will be baptized next Sunday. We're excited and are trying to track down a christening outfit today. I'll be sure to post some pictures of the aftermath of his enlightenment. (We're not allowed to take pictures during the ceremony - though that's the personal preference of our priest more than it is any Church teaching.)
Infant baptism is an absolutely beautiful ceremony, by the way. It moves me to tears every time I see a baby being baptized: The claiming for Christ, the rejection of Satan, the affirmation of the creed, the naming of the baby, the trine immersion while chanting "I baptize you in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit," the clothing of the baby in white garments - with Christ, the anointing of him with blessed oil scented with balsam - with the Spirit of God. Man! I'm telling you, it's beyond-good stuff, this being baptized in and with the faith of the Church.
The Church has this to say in its "Instruction on Infant Baptism": "Infant Baptism is truly evangelical, since it has the force of witness, manifesting God's initiative and the gratuitous character of the love with which He surrounds our lives: 'not that we loved God but that he loved us.... We love, because he first loved us.' Even in the case of adults, the demands that the reception of Baptism involves should not make us forget that 'he saved us, not because of deeds done by us in righteousness, but in virtue of his own mercy, by the washing of regeneration and renewal in the Holy Spirit.' " And in section 1250 of the Catechism the Church says, "The sheer gratuitousness of the grace of salvation is particularly manifest in infant baptism." What does that mean? It means that salvation is God's free gift based on His mercy and not on any of our merit (not even our "work of faith," since faith too is a gift of God) - and that this is most evident in the washing of our children in baptism. Furthermore, St Paul speaks of children being sanctified by their believing parents. And the psalmist writes of how he was taught to trust in God even at his mother's breast. I could go on and on, but I am afraid that I've already begun to babble.
We're excited, and we hope that all of you will rejoice with us as we rejoice.
I know I've said fart in the last two posts, and sworn. My apologies, kind of, but you see, it's simply not my fault. My boy's favorite word right now is poopie. So it's on my mind a lot.
For instance, the other day the yellow-haired child wanted to watch Ella Enchanted, much to Will's dismay. I sternly told him it was Avery's turn to pick a movie and he muttered with disgust, "Ella Poopie."
You see, it's like that, and it can't be helped.
I sit with Baby Jack in my arms and stare into his peaceful face. He draws me in. I rock him gently back and forth as I browse through some blogs. Without thought, because of my rocking motion, I fart - mostly because I'm gassy.
I continue gazing with adoration at my boy when Jack Henry begins choking. A quick examination reveals nothing in his mouth. And then I'm slapped with the realization that the only thing he's choking on is the air biscuit I'd floated. He gags four times, maybe five, before settling back down into the beatific meditation that I had momentarily interrupted with a kind of olfactory "What the hell?"
Some days I simply itch to write, but I don't have the time. I go up the stairs to my office, and immediately the monkeys downstairs begin screeching.
I was speaking on the phone last night with a friend and the topic of homeschooling came up. You see, I probably need to homeschool my children, at least my oldest, but I am so damned unorganized I wonder sometimes how I could possibly give her a quality education. Not to mention the additional work of caring for a newborn.
(Why does it sound so much like I'm making excuses?)
So after saying Goodbye, I went upstairs to my office only to read an article by Orson Scott Card (a local sci-fi writer of some fame) about how of all the college students he teaches, the homeschooled students are the best and broadest thinkers. He goes on to rail against the miserable public education system, with which I sympathize as I am married to a public educator and hear about the stinking guts of the monster ad nauseum.
I am well into Vonnegut's Palm Sunday and am thoroughly enjoying myself. More than I have reading most anything recently. What an excellent writer. If an occasional coarseness or granddaddy-of-a-cussword bothers you, then save Mr. Vonnegut Jr. for another time in your life.
Speaking of books, I bought Tolkien's newest release, The Children of Húrin, from that Great Monstrosity Barnes & Noble. I haven't yet read it due to my Vonnegut reading, but the book sits on my end table and occasionally catches my eye. Sweet.
Why the uproar on the Supreme Court's decision to uphold W's making late-term abortions illegal? Do these people understand what kind of abortion we're speaking of (not that there's good abortion)? Do they think they can maintain any moral credibility when they embrace late-term abortion (delivering half the baby before killing him or her - basically, infanticide) and then express loathing for the twisted souls of people like Cho?
Speaking of liberal Democrats, in the political climate we find ourselves, any Democrat running and nominated as the party's candidate who was also pro-life would win the presidency without so much as a whimper.
Then again, with the Republican Yahoos who have popped up so far, they will anyway.
