... you can talk about whatever you like.
(Photos taken today in Governor Nelson State Park, on the north shore of Lake Mendota.)
June 30, 2010
At the Wildflower Café...
... you can talk about whatever you like.
(Photos taken today in Governor Nelson State Park, on the north shore of Lake Mendota.)
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I always say the Our Father with our oldest before he goes to bed. Decided to change it up tonight and say "A Prayer Attributed to St. Francis." Being very young and therefore very fond of routine, son still insisted on the Our Father afterward.
So after all that, saw this while perusing The Book of Common Prayer:
O God, you have bound us together in a common life. Help us in the midst of our struggles for justice and truth, to confront one another without hatred or bitterness, and to work together with mutual forbearance and respect; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.
A lot of politics about. A lot of contention. So I liked that. A reminder to do better.
Applicable as is to those who share the same faith. Maybe adaptable for others.
That is in Waunakee, my hometown.
Only Waunakee in the world.
By the way got an apartment for a one year lease in Madison beginning September 1.
I will be on the 10th floor in the MadisonMark=which allows dogs.
FYI-I will be splitting my time between Madison and Bangalore over the next year.
I will miss so very much all the beautiful brown people Boston has to offer. You really can't swing a cat without hitting a really hot brownie. Good bye to hot brownie East Coasters. Hello to pasty white fatty cheeseheads.
Freeman...That was beautiful. I believe that we are able to give mutual forebearance and respect because we can see others from God's point of view, after our minds have been transformed by scripture. Nobody seems to appreciate the blessings that always come with Christian faith these days, but it is sorely misssed once it is gone.
Just was reading an AP story about the upcoming employment numbers:
http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/38025057/ns/business/
" WASHINGTON — For the first time in six months, the federal unemployment report to be released Friday will likely show a net loss of jobs.
But hold off on the panic button.
It's true that employers are expected to have cut more than 100,000 jobs in June. But that figure, if accurate, will be deceptive. It will reflect the end of up to 250,000 temporary census jobs. The real focus Friday will be on how many net jobs private employers created."
Ummm, where was the concern from the AP about being "deceived" when these temporary government jobs were being used to beef up evidence of a recovery?
I love echinachia.
Althouse, he's all yours. Actually, I'll miss his musings on the local scene.
This one goes out to Titus.
Massachusetts
Feel I`m goin` back to Massachusetts.
Something`s telling me I must go home.
And the lights all went out in Massachusetts
The day I left her[?] standing on her[?] own.
Tried to hitch a ride to San Francisco.
Gotta do the things I wanna do.
And the lights all went out in Massachusetts
They brought me back to see my way with you.
Talk about the life in Massachusetts.
Speak about the people I have seen.
And the lights all went out in Massachusetts,
And Massachusetts is one place I have seen.
I will remember Massachusetts.
I will remember Massachusetts.
I will remember Massachusetts.
"It's beautiful the Summer month of June when all of God's own wildflowers are in bloom." ~ Francis Duggan
I so appreciate Freeman's ability to summon up these prayers -- lovely.
Being more of a secularist, this photo reminded me of one of the prettier songs Tom Petty ever did:
You belong among the wildflowers
You belong in a boat out at sea
Sail away, kill off the hours
You belong somewhere you feel free
Run away, find you a lover
Go away somewhere bright and new
I have seen no other
Who compares with you
You belong among the wildflowers
You belong in a boat out at sea
You belong with your love on your arm
You belong somewhere you feel free
Run away, go find a lover
Run away, let your heart be your guide
You deserve the deepest of cover
You belong in that home by and by
You belong among the wildflowers
You belong somewhere close to me
Far away from your trouble and worry
You belong somewhere you feel free
EDH, thank you so much. That made me cry.
Mass, I will miss you.
The traffic, the Masshole drivers, the beautiful ocean, the food, I am heartbroken.
Seafood, Italian Food, North End, South End, Back Bay, Beacon Hill, Hyde Park, Mission Hill, Jamaica Plain, Cambridge, Somerville, All The Squares.
Newton, Wellesley, Brookline, Chestnut Hill, Brighton, Allston.
All the jews, and blacks, portugese, brazilian, italians, irish, somalians, haitians, jamaicans, hondurans, guatemalans, russians, morrocans.
Rockport, Newburyport, Nantucket, Salem, Plymouth, Northampton, Ptown, Chatham, Hyannis, Williamstown, Concord, Lexington, Stockbridge, Sturbridge.
The history.
Gay marriage, Barney Frank, Deval Patrick, Biotech, High Tech, Health Care, The Beauty of the city, Charles River, Financial Services, Banking, High Cost of Living, the parks, the dog people...the dog people, we love dogs, the history.
My heart is heavy.
Group hug now, please.
Lastly, I would be remorse not to include the fab people in my very expensive loft building:
George Bush's personal assistant for 8 years, Blake Gottesman, a Harvard MBA grad, even though he didn't receive his undergrad. Reverse affirmative Action.
The MIT PHD who writes on Japanese Politics in Newsweek and is an American from Chicago and very hot.
The Harvard MD across the hall in the Penthouse.
The two real estate fags across the hall.
The Middlebury Grads on the third floor who are republicans.
The fag Harvard Grad Lawyers.
The Dartmouth grad single women who does something at BC.
OH, I love you all.
And the cars in the parking lot at my building. The Beamers, The Mercedes, The Audis, The Volvos, all not domestic cars I will miss you greatly.
Good bye Euro cars, hello Chevy Cavaliers and rusted out pieces of shit that should not be on the road.
And finally the accent.
So hot when having sex.
And we should not forget the song Shipping Off To Boston by the Dropkick Murphy's.
So gritty.
Boston, for all it's faginess is still a very gritty city, thank god.
That looks quite summery!
@FH: I love the cadences of the 1928 Book of Common Prayer. Reading aloud from the later ones feels like driving a car on flat tires. :(
Oh God, the creator and preserver of all mankind, we aknowledge and bewail our manifold sins and wickedness, which from time to time have most grievously committed, by thought, word, and deed against our Divine Majesty, provoking most justly thy wrath and indignation against us. We do earnestly repent, and are heartily sorry for these our misdoings. The remembrance of them is grievous unto us. The burden of them is intolerable. Have mercy on us. Have mercy on us, mos merciful Father. For your Son, or Lord Jesus Christ's sake, forgive us all that is past. And grand that we may ever hereafter serve and please the in newness of life, to the honor and glory of thy name, through Jesus Christ our Lord, by whom and with whom in the unity of the Holy Spirit, all honor and glory be unto thee oh FAther Almighty, world without end. Amen.
That's the General Confession from the 1928 BCP. (Or ti's pretty close. I wrote that from memory, so the puncutation reflects more how we said it at my church; and the capitalization is probably wrong too. And I may have mashed in a few more honorifics than originally written.)
In any case, it reads with a nice rhythm, and when you said it, it actually felt like you CONFESSED something. With the newer versions -- eh, God, I made a mistake here and there.
BTW,apropos of the lovely photos, why is it that after you start writing for The Atlantic, eventually you find yourself off in the weeds? It's not just Sullivan. It's like they all smoke dope together or something.
*sigh* The first time I ever smoked weed. Mid 1970s. Saturday night, friend John took this straight-laced kid out to see his connection on Marshall Ave. in St Paul. He's a stereotypical hippie guy, very serious look on his face. We all sit facing each other in this darkened room. WE pass around the first joint I had ever seen or smelled. I was higher from the edgyness than by the weed. If my parents knew, they would kill me.
After a long silence, the dealer speaks.
"Do you know who I think is really, really funny?"
Pause.
"No, who?" I ask.
"Bob Hope." And he sits back.
And I'm trying to figure out if there's some profound meaning to all this.
Very pretty sequence. Since you're not doing the road trips the way you did last year, I'm glad to see you're enjoying your summer.
And you're right, each day has to be taken as a gift.
Titus said...
Lastly, I would be remorse not to include the fab people in my very expensive loft building:
Not to criticize, but the word is remiss.
I read this morning that Christopher Hitchens has esophageal cancer and is starting treatment.
I hope he does well, that his suffering is small, that his voice is not forever silenced, and that his eyes are opened.
Not to criticize, but the word is remiss.
True, but remorse adds a bit of poetry to his lamentation.
What a beautiful world.
Gov Nelson is a great park and I go there frequently when I am in Madison for an extended period of time. However, I think it belongs more in the realm of county parks as I suspect it's use is primarily Dane County residents and it is not a 'destination' park like say a Devils Lake. WI DOT transfers roads to local control all the time (it fixes them first), perhaps its time for the DNR to examine its list of parks for the same.
Purple Coneflower. The savior plant of all us inept gardeners.
Scott: Lovely the old BCP. The new confession tidies up things so that the guilt part and the sin stuff is gone. Haven't heard the word "sin" from an Episcopal pulpit in twenty years.
Fred4Pre: Coneflowers are awesome. When I lived in Nebraska those things grew like weeds and could withstand anything.
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