This And That

 

Yesterday was momentous. Yes, I drove into the Mega City connurb metrosprawl that is Fort Worth/Dallas, and was reminded yet again that spaghetti junctions didn't go outta style in the 1970s. What an entanglement of concrete, but it was worth it to get to the Clergy Day at St. Vincent's Cathedral in Bedford.

Where there was a presentation by a consultant figure on character and the voice techniques associated therein. There are, apparently, various character traits, each with their own way of speaking, and understanding this is beneficial to team leadership and self-realization to boot. So what are you, a Nurturer, Pioneer or Creative?

Oh look, you're really safe now at the cathedral. How idiotic

You'll be pleased to know I turned up late and resisted the heady urge to ask, "I think you've missed something out, Imperialist, Space Imperialist, what about that?" Lord Curzon on the sands of Mars aside, it was good to spend time with fellow clergy, what a good bunch of guys, easily the best clericus I've ever served with.

And it was good to be at the cathedral too, so many memories gathered up over the years and not bad for all that. Reverie over, I climbed into the rig and headed East on murder expressway 183 to Ma LSP's place in Dallas. She was in fine form, though recovering from oral surgery, and announced, "Your parcel's arrived."

Keepers Tweed is the best tweed imo

Good! And there it was, a Keepers Tweed coat, thanks, eBay. "I tell you, Mother, these things cost a solid 600 GBP new, if you can even find 'em." She thought about this, "It's awfully heavy, perhaps you can wear it for about two days here." I replied, quick as a flash, "It's the cloth, you see, Winter coat." Which it is, and tough as nails to boot.

On the way out to the bucolic boulevards of rural Texas she gave me a Japanese altar, I think that's what it is, which belonged to her Mother who collected such things. This now sits next to the front door, sanctified by icons, guns, rods and all of that.

Maybe 18th C? I'm guessing

So there you have it, what a good day, and today being the Feast of St. Matthias it's celebration all 'round.

Cheers,

LSP

Help Out Fella!

 

The day dawned brightly, with a slight mist and the sun picking up frost on the grass and fallen leaves. Yes, the climate had changed, but so uplifting. Better, to my mind, than living in the DFW metrosprawl where things seem less open and clean. That's the country for you, and more power to it.

Then, as I contemplated the pastoral idyll that is the Compound's backyard, the phone buzzed, "LSP, we need your help!" Huh, better get moving, and in a few minutes I was at the food bank, ready and waiting to do my bit to help suffering humanity.

It was chaos, of course, because a truck had come in with a massive amount of food and everyone was scrambling to store it away. In case you're interested, I ended up stacking pallets of canned corn onto an overflow trailer, which is a fine thing to do in the endeavor to fulfil the Gospel admonition, "I was hungry and you fed me." 

Speaking of which, the local foodbank's curiously undersubscribed. Shouldn't people be starving and desperate for their next meal in this horrendous plague year? You know, not able to get food because of the death that stalketh in the noon day? And lining up around the block for relief? Apparently not. Make of that what you will. Regardless, it was good to help out.

A trip to Walmart and a magazine gone to press later, it was time to drive to the lake and say Mass. Always a privilege, and a new family turned up with their five children, such a blessing. 

We celebrated afterwards with wine and cheese in the church hall, as the kids played in the nursery/playroom. Great result. And that, punters, is the story of that. 

I file this exciting story under God, Church and Country Life in Texas. And guns, obvs.

God bless,

LSP