For a number of reasons, we’re a bit behind schedule in tending to our backyard flower garden this spring. Normally, we’d have a variety of bedding plants selected and planted by late May. This year…well, let’s just say the trip to the nursery is still on our to-do list.
And yet, despite our thoroughgoing neglect, the unkempt plot is already yielding a bit of beauty: a few Sweet William blossoms poking through.
We prayed portions of Psalm 103 at Mass on Friday morning, and I have to say, I was really feelin’ it…
The ferocity of a recent spring storm toppled two of the four chairs on our deck. Twenty-four hours later, the duo remained askew—prompting Gerri to observe that her dear husband must have absolutely zero interest in home improvement.
“But two of the chairs remain upright,” I protested. “So that’s about right…I’m at least half-way concerned…”
Pentecost looms. Which means it’s been 50 days since I heard the words uttered near the beginning of the Easter Vigil Mass…and still, I can’t get them out of my mind.
Every once in a while, you get confirmation that miracles do indeed still happen.
All this week, it’s provided a spectacular greeting…and pretty much, just for me.
Joe Maye won’t be around for the finals…and ain’t that a shame.
They’re starting to get out of hand – the dandelions, that is.
You’d think that—after 36 years of wedded bliss—Gerri would know this about me: Plumbing and I simply DO NOT MIX.
Hannah had some good news for her Gramps this week, and she just couldn’t keep it in.
With Us Still 