Broccoli, that is. I gave Bella some leftover broccoli at lunch, thinking it would be automatically ejected, and was surprised that she ate one piece after another after another. That’s my girl. In the Scott household, broccoli is a holiday...
I really liked this passage from a larger meditation on prayer, Pray without ceasing: a daily plan of attack. . . . mental prayer is the goal. Vocal prayer is the training ground, the springboard which is meant to take us deeper into the realm of...
an email forward from my sister-in-law: Blessed be the name of Joseph Henceforth and for ever. Amen. Happy Feast of ST.JOSEPH ST.JOSEPH He was a just man; that means a holy man. He gave to God what belonged to Him and to the...
from a homily by Fr. Philip: Can you smell the wood of the cross? There are many more steps between here and now and the foot of the tree. The hot sand blows stinging hard and everything and everyone you�ve left behind calls to you out of friendship...
My sister received an email forward today from her former roommate, Jenny, who lives in my hometown of Austin, Texas. Jenny had received the email from her co-worker, Shenise, who had received it from her mother, Sherry: Dear Lord, My first...
Hungry baby contentedly standing at the coffee table, shoveling sweet potato puffs into her mouth with both fists. Both fists engaged in holding food, baby is doing a remarkable job of standing on her own. Suddenly, distracted baby topples over...
The next tests (hysteroscopy and d&c) are scheduled for April 13 at 7:30 am. It seems like a very long time to wait, but the doctor sounds pretty confident that he won’t find anything. The original diagnosis was simply so unlikely. He said...
Isabella is ten months tomorrow. I can’t believe how quickly it’s all flown. She’s starting to let go and stand up with no support for several seconds at a time. Usually when she just has to have both hands for a toy. She’s...
Kate B passes on a link to a gem of a short story from The New Yorker. Ravenna, Italy; mosaics; fathers; daughters; tourists; heaven; postcards! Need I say more? I used to be a postcard addict, mailing them from all over. Now I hardly travel and the...
Melissa Wiley linked to this poem, #8220;Letters from a Father”. I almost stopped reading after the first rather grim stanza. But I’m glad I forged ahead. What a delightful poem!
