garden wash

 

Early this morning I caught the perpetrator of the apartment garden decor hanging up her wash. You can see my reflection as I, with great stealth, snapped her in the act. You can also see the blossoms on the trees, but the dragonflies, butterflies, hummingbirds and skunks are not captured. Perhaps that is another day.

Meanwhile carrying on the theme of St. Joe from yesterday, here is a video of a talk given on the one relic that St. Joe would have handled. Warning: there is an interdict against the discussion of this relic and Roman Catholics face excommunication if they view this. But for the rest of us, here it is. (The sound is poor, and I used earphones.) 

packing up again

Enough said about this moving disaster

Self disclosure number 3: I broke the sexist bar at the Montreal Gazette. I was their first female carrier. I was in grade seven. Up at five thirty, over top the drop off point, loading up my bag and then house to house. I got good tips. And later when the carriers used to come around to collect and punch the cards, I always gave them a good tip. They don't do that anymore

Revisiting yesterday's art: See the comment left for yesterday. Here is a blow up of the other picture: an English Jesus in a bedsheet, in an English garden, with three adorable English children. If you double click it and blow it up you can see the fighter plane in the boy's hand.  I could write a thesis on the militarism, imperialism and racism wrapped up in a sweet religious dressing displayed in this picture.


In the interest of racial equality and animal rights (the singing panda), here is a Christian Science offering which I found on: http://www.ship-of-fools.com 

Perhaps I now need to redeem myself by leaving you with something with, in my view, more substance. I think this is really quite moving:

her majesty

I have lived in four provinces. Growing up in Quebec I can't remeber seeing the Queen in a public place. I never noticed her in Nova Scotia or Ontario. She might have been there, I just didn't notice. But here in New Brunswick she seems to hang in a lot of churches. The one I am in in Sussex has three portraits: in the minister's office, in the hall and in the meeting hall. This is monarchist country. It would have pleased my mother.

Saint Menas

I am sharing with you a discussion that my sister and I had yesterday. This is Saint Menas, a Egyptian officer at the end of the 3rd century. He left the army and went into the desert to practise asceticism. Perhaps things got a little dull because he went into town and crashed a pagan festival declaring himself to be a Christian. (I figure that he was either foolhardy or lacked commonsense, but perhaps he wanted to be killed.) He was subsequently martyred. He was quite a popular saint in Alexandria until the Arab Moslems took over and then few people ever heard of him - until the Second Battle of El Alamein in 1942 when Montgomery and the Allies defeated the Germans and Italians. Saint Menas turned up and fought the Germans wearing his Roman armor armed with his sword. Apparently he had a bunch of camels with him. It unnerved the Germans and the Allies won. My question is did he join the fray of his own volition and did someone in the Allies call him up - unlikely perhaps, but nevertheless what happened? A number of Germans swore they saw a Roman soldier fighting and the camels in the thick of the battle.

the matriarch

I got a telephone call late yesterday evening with a request for me to conduct a funeral this morning for a 98 year old Chinese lady. She was laid out in a lovely embroidered silk jacket and covered with a silk sheet before the casket was closed. Incense was lit. Funeral money was burnt. Sweets and lucky money were distributed. In between I presided over the Service of Christian Burial. Then we all went to the feast. There were none of the usual funeral egg sandwiches.