Rural Ministry #2

Look. It's not all country rust-belt dystopia in the rural ministry. After you say Morning Prayer (Mattins), take Blue Bedford Forest for a walk and drink some coffee, it's only a short drive to the fields.

Sometimes it's misty, which I like, it reminds me of England. 

Then, when you've taken the Sacrament to the sick, you can drive back to HQ, pick up Blue Eschaton and go off and shoot. He's adjusting to gunfire, fortunately for him.

Then, after Evening Prayer (Vespers), you can clean guns and have a glass of the right stuff.

So I'm not complaining. 

I love the country.

LSP

Buccolic Idyll

Sometimes what I like to do when I'm taking Blue Ebeneezer for a morning stroll is take pictures of houses. 

Thanks a Lot

As you can see, all is well in our merry little slice of rural paradise, and that's the good part of town.

Demoncratz

Blue Obadiah lays the blame squarely on the shoulders of the limo-lib Illuminati elite who run this country. He hates them and won't listen to "nuance" and "reason." These, he snarls, are, "New York Times degenerate." Smart dog.

Good Dog

In other news, it appears Obama didn't bother to consult the Pentagon before attacking ISIS. Way to go, Commander-in-Chief. Obviously he takes this operation seriously.

Bad Dog

And a terror attack by Methodists, sorry! Muslims, to stab the Queen was stopped by U.K. police. Weird, eh? Like totally out of leftfield.

Ride on,

LSP

Another Good Sunday

A crazed peacock was sounding off in the neighbor's backyard, roosters were crowing, goats were making the noise they do and it wasn't easy to collect my thoughts over the racket. But it was a good racket. "This place is turning into some kind of petting zoo," I thought, reflecting on the day's Gospel in which the risen Christ reveals Himself along the road to Emmaus and its terminus. He did so in Word and Sacrament; He does so today and therein lies the solution to Peter's cry, "Save yourselves from this crooked generation."

What a Disaster

Speaking of crooked, Gene Robinson, the most famous gay bishop in the world, ever, has divorced his not-so-life-partner, Mark. Hunh.

More seriously, LL is writing a series of "shorts", mostly fictional. But this one isn't; he calls it Hungry, I call it Let Them Eat Snake (sorry LL) and it starts like this:

It's impossible to communicate the nature of physical exhaustion to those who have not experienced it. There were three of us...

Do yourself a favor and read the whole thing here (it's short) and stay tuned for Solstice in Austin.

I Want This Building

That aside, the Missions were on good form, marked by fervency and reverence, not just for guns and horses, but also for Christ in the revealed Word and the Sacrament of the Altar. I always leave the Mass uplifted, here in the Missions; I tell you, I did so especially today.

God bless,

LSP