My View from Mill Bay
Prayers go out to Humboldt’s hockey community. Tragic loss. Why?
It is hard and difficult to look on things in general after a tragedy such as this.
It could have happened to any one of us who have experienced travelling to a hockey match as a team by bus.
SJ…………………..Out
Countdown to Vezelay: 117 Days to go.
Vezelay is one of the staring points of the “Via Limovicensis” to St Jean Pied de Port French pilgrimage. In the middle ages pilgrims from northern Europe took this route as part of the Camino De Santiago pilgrimage in Spain. This aspect of the pilgrimage is 900 kilometers in length. But you can’t look at it that way. It is just 20-25 kilometers per day.
People do this for a variety of reasons. Generally people do this at an important juncture in their lives: be it a religious, spiritual, physical or social reason, there is no one purpose that overrides one over the other. It becomes a very personal journey. It is also a challenge in planning, preparation and execution. I am very excited about this walk and am looking forward to it. It is also providing me with a focus during a very difficult time in my own life – the loss of my wife of 40 years.
I have always loved the old world vibe and architecture of Europe, especially the massive cathedrals. Vezelay is said to have some of the remains of Mary Magdellan. Perhaps. Maybe not. But this Catholic mythology gives Vezelay its unique charm and patina.
Part of the route takes one to a place called Nevers, France, which is the final resting place of St Bernadette de Soubirous, of Lourdes fame. I definitely want to visit that shrine. There are also many other sites to see along the way.
Wish me luck. Still a 117 days to go though, before I depart.
Song of the day
Have a happy Friday, wherever you may be.
No craziness out there today.
SJ………………………………..Out.
Countdown to Vezelay….118 Days and counting, not walking but counting.
Can’t wait!
I am a bit upset that the Pope has recently announced that “Hell” no longer exists.
Hell, I thought to myself. Damn. Telling someone to “Go to Hell” just doesn’t have the same impact anymore. “Hellfire” and “Brimstone” were two of the most terrifying words that a young Catholic child like me could ever hope to hear. Terrifying I tell you. How I prayed at night before I fell asleep that the devil be gone from my ever so innocent dreams. Now:
I Want You…to show me the way, every day.
hahahahahahahahahahahah…you can’t have me! And what about God’s given rules that were constantly shoved down our throats as young Catholic lads and lasses. I am reminded
“of one really weird and unexplainable moment that occurred to me while waiting to go into the confessional to confess my indiscretions and sinful works and sinful deeds and equally sinful thoughts. Hell! It was a Saturday afternoon, springtime, around 4pm, the scheduled time for confession at our church. And given that the church was right across the road from our house that day or time of day didn’t really cause me an inconvenience. Damn! Run across to the church, do my thing, say the requisite number of Our Father’s, Hail Mary’s and Glory Be’s, and voila, the slated soul was clean, snowy white again, all black spots disappearing into the sinful ether. Whew! Then run back home to catch the latest Tarzan edition on TV or tales from the really dark continent awaiting a supper of hot dogs, or better still, Kraft Dinner – with ketchup! Yummy!
I am sitting there in the cavernous church: non plussed, and wondering what I’ll be confessing. There was that list of sins of course, both venial and mortal to contemplate. Damnation! The church, being really well organized after thousands of years of practice, and not wanting to waste anybody’s time, the priest’s or mine, had a list and that list was all encompassing. Hell yes! It must have been quite interesting and comical fun coming up with the list of venial and mortal sins. I would have loved to have been part of that Working Group or Ecumenical Council for certain. No shyte! Yes, a sinful checklist of remembrance was the way to go. Did I do this? Check! How about that? Check. Masturbation? What is that? More on that later! Uncheck? Murder? Nope, uncheck unless thinking about murdering my oldest sister was a sin? Uncheck that. On and on it went. Meantime, while I was sitting there waiting to go in to meet my fate head on, I suddenly came down with a horrific case of the hiccups: bad, violent, non-relenting. Each hiccup shook my entire being. It was God’s punishment for my dastardly indiscretions…or so they led me to believe! Hell on earth!
Ever try to mask or hide a hiccup in a confined environment like a church, or worse yet, the claustrophobic confines of a Confessional? It is not pretty. Your cheeks bulge out; eyeballs and pupils expand outwardly in a Feldman like manner; the stomach contracts then expands in rapid succession; and, like an uncontrollable fart, a growling sound begins its emanational rise from the lower bowels of the human body bypassing the stomach then running up the oesophagus in its belch like fashion, or in the Catholic vernacular, like a resurrection. The gut, it hurts. The whole sensation repeats itself over and over and over again until those hiccups run its course. With each attempt to mask the hiccup the sensation becomes worse and deeply magnified. Like hell itself!
Embarrassed, I sat out in the pews near the back of the church daring not to even think about going in to that dark, dank and tiny expanse that they called the confessional. The interior of those tiny cells, abreast of and on either side of the priest’s chamber, have a unique odour about them. Here, some 50 years later, as I am writing this, I can still sense that smell. A toxic mix of incense and sweat interspersed with a whiff of stale tobacco and alcohol for all of the priests smoked and drank. Once inside and kneeling there was no escape for the priest knew you were there given the little panic-type-like button that activated a beep for the priest’s sake and a tiny red light outside of the cell once your knees pressed into the red foam of the kneeling pad. All the priest had to do then was to slide the small grated sliding door to the left or to the right as need be and you were trapped, trapped by the Priest’s undivided attention, until absolution. I am sure that every Catholic knows and remembers the sound of that small sliding door opening and closing. It is the sound of hell!
I couldn’t even think of how I would handle that situation. Damnation!
But now, with the threat of “going to hell” all but disappearing, what on earth are they, the Catholic Church, going to do now?
Saying “Hey you, asshole, Go to Heaven” or “I’ll see you in Purgatory” just doesn’t have the same denigrating ring to it, does it? No, getting rid of hell will definitely change life’s interesting lexicon – and not in a good way either. Maybe that is why the Pope made this decision. He liked “Hey yo” better…perhaps.
That’s my sermon for today….the hell with it anyway.
And when they say: “Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.” I can only laugh out loud.
Song of the day:
https://youtu.be/D9ioyEvdggk
SJ………………………………………………To hell in a handcart…..What the hell……
I am soooo excited and very happy today as I am now a:
Life is good….again!
Thanks to all of my friends and family here in the Great White North for your thoughts and wishes for the new parents; all of my friends and family from the Netherlands; Oma and Karin from Spain; and a special note of thanks to my new found Swiss friends for everything.
Thanks
Great
Best to my son, my daughter-in-law and their new bundle of joy.
Song of the day:
How appropriate
SJ…………………………Out
Only in Canada:
The aggravated sexual assault charge laid by police against her attacker was dropped because the case took too long to go to trial. Shitty
Human remains found in Markham Ontario. Police won’t say how they found them but will not proceed with the case until daylight so that they can see what they’re doing. Judge throws prosecution out because it has taken the police too long to find them.
Sad: California family drives car off of a cliff. Whole family killed. Police are not sure as yet as to motive. Was it an Uber? A self drive? If they take too long in their investigation the case will be dropped…off the cliff! Why can’t the parents just do themselves in and leave the children out of it….Geesh!
Channing and Jenna divorcing after 9 years of marriage. I have two questions concerning this bit of news fluff. Who the f%$K are Channing and Jenna and who gives two f&#ks as to their marriage status?
This just in:
A pair of self-described sex instructors from Belarus have been stuck in a Thai detention center for weeks. They say they have evidence demonstrating Russian interference in the 2016 presidential erection in the United States, and that they have offered it to the F.B.I. in exchange for a guarantee of their safety.
Their claim — that they are targets of a covert, undercover Russian operation to silence them because they know too much — might seem outlandish, but their case certainly includes some unusual circumstances. I’ll say it does. Could be a “Trojan” in the making here, one Russian official was heard to remark. It appears that they are out to screw Trump no matter what.
Love this: On March 23, upset by a protest interrupting a Friday night dinner service – one of several staged in recent months at Antlers in Toronto — Hunter took a leg of venison to a high-top table overlooking the street, placed it on a cutting board and separated the meat from the bone. The gesture riled the protesters watching through the window, with one accusing Hunter of taunting the vegans with the “leg of a recently murdered deer.” Hunter returned half an hour later to eat a piece of seared venison steak in front of the vegans. The Vegans were salivating with disgusto!
Something we couldn’t wait to hear: Katie Nicholl, royal expert and author of the new book Harry: Life, Loss, and Love, told ET that while the queen will have a “very prominent and important role” in Harry and Meghan’s wedding on May 19, she won’t be hitting the floor at the reception – especially if the Spice Girls end up performing. “She’s going to want to be a very important part of that day and indeed she will,” the author explained. “But I think when it comes to the evening reception and certainly the party, if the Spice Girls are performing, then I don’t think the queen’s going to be on the dance floor.” No she is a Macarena fan!
“That’s it Mum. Put your left foot forward.”
“I hate those Spice Girls Justine. They’re so 1980s. After all this is 2018 you know.”
“I know Mum, I know.”
Latest candidates for the “Darwin Awards” Condom snorting is the newest “challenge” and a dangerous online trend that’s become popular among young people through social media.
Rival to the “Tide Pod Challenge,” “condom snorting” is a dangerous practice that involves inhaling a rubber condom up one’s nose so that it can then be fished out through the mouth. The whole thing is recorded and uploaded to YouTube or another social media outlet.
Of course, there is a huge risk. If someone inhales a piece of rubber it can get stuck and result in a blocked airway, which can lead to choking and suffocation. “I can think of better ways to use these things, can’t you?” Russian Sex Coaches agreed.
“Climate Change is humanity’s greatest threat” – so says the UN IPCC. No, the UN is humanity’s greatest threat!
Love this (from Maggie’s Farm): Feminist Geography? What is it? Well:
Feminist geographers “challenge the masculinist formation of science as objective, gender-neutral, and value-free” by studying topics such as “spatial subjectivities” and “emotional geographies.”
Say what? Oh, you mean this:
Yessss, emotional geographies the female Geographer was heard to scream.
Or, that is why women can’t read maps or drive a car in reverse!
Spatial Geography…a real challenge
Say no more.
Song of the day? Geography? Well, it’s the world I know. (Collective Soul)
https://youtu.be/EndBRy-_3do
SJ……………………………Out