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.
Holy Week eventually renders the Church speechless before the cross on Good Friday, says Fr. Guerric DeBona, OSB.
In the end, the cross will trump all our words.
With Us Still 