Monday, April 2, 2012

relishing the quiet...

No, the last four photos are just random and have naught to do with yesterday's Blessing of the Palms.

I have been sitting here, relishing the quiet, as Bret took the kids into Scottsville so that the boys could finally  get their pre-Easter haircuts.

The ride to Mass yesterday was so lovely.  But Holy Week had to begin with lessons in humility.  My confessor said, in effect, that I was being scrupulous and confessing things that weren't sins.  Then I came home to the shredded pork that I had forgotten to turn off in the morning (not really forgotten, but just didn't really think through accurately) and found that I had a pot full of charcoal.  I am cooking water and baking soda in it for the second time now, trying to remove all the baked-on crud.  So there I was, crying as I cooked a dinner that I had been so looking forward to not having to cook!  As I berated myself for my stupidity, Bret, with his ability to see the bright side in any situation, quipped, "Could have been worse; we could have been expecting company."

I learned via email that the sister of a friend had died, on her birthday, at age 60.  When Gemma woke me up at 1:30 a.m., I lay awake for a long time.  Memento mori; remember, you will die.  No, it isn't morbid--it is a reminder to live each day well.  And here we are in Holy Week.  Am I living each day well?  Prayer, penance, alms-giving...loving my neighbor as myself...were I to die tonight, would I have cause to feel shame?

You can see that Gemma, who normally runs around here half naked (I hot, Mama!"), cleans up pretty well on a Sunday morning.  And if anyone knows the name of that little inverted ladybug, black with red spots, please email me...I'm that curious.  And spring butter, oh-so-yellow, all that beta carotene.  We are making plenty of butter right now and freezing what we don't use.

Well, the boys are back and things are back to normal (read: loud).  I like the quiet, but I'm not accustomed to it anymore.  Too much silence and I start to worry and look for my children!  It's like my closed I am wondering who is actually reading what I write here.  I am looking forward to next week, when I'll be able to interact with everyone again!