Rejoice, O Jerusalem: and come together all you that love her: rejoice with joy, you that have been in sorrow: that you may exult, and be filled from the breasts of your consolation. I rejoiced at the things that were said to me: we shall go into the house of the Lord. Glory be to the Father.
Well, I know y'all have all been dying to see Fr. Ken in his vestments, so here he is all decked out for Laetare Sunday.
It will be good to be able to teach the children that no matter how bad a priest's hair is or how much it looks like he might be wearing makeup, the Mass is still valid. As you can see, I have not yet had time to make his alb. I have quite a bit a sewing ahead of me because by some short-sighted, masochistic impulse, I have chosen to institute my foray into liturgical couture at a time when Father will need vestments of a different color every week for four weeks.
We did not really have class this week because of spring break, but the kids came to the room for a few minutes anyway because the priest (the real one) was coming to bless our Mass kit. This was very good of him since he had another Mass a good distance away, and he spent some time explaining to the kids what all different pieces were for. I know they will remember it.
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We walked the second stretch of our pilgrimage to Hernando yesterday. There wasn't much to take note of except for this.
|Charybdis and Sylla|
I cannot begin to tell you how much more monstrously huge this pair was in person, or how very much narrower this road looked when I had to walk in between them (alone, Bill was coming from the other direction). Suddenly that barbed wire fence looked exceedingly flimsy, especially since I've seen Mr. Black Angus on the left without the fence grazing on kudzu. When I got even with them, they both snorted, jumped up, and ran away. "Oh," thought I, "This is encouraging," but then they came back to the fence and followed me down the road grumbling in a threatening way. They probably thought I'd come to take them back to the barn or something, but it was disturbing.
There was this mailbox,
|Not sure what you put it here. It might belong to Doctor Who.|
and this corpse,
|Someone's dinner, or evidence of an alien invasion. Perhaps it came here in the mailbox.|