An angel, a demon and an Irish priest walk into a bar...
It's late Sunday, and I've been remiss in updating the blog, but I was finishing "Angels and Demons," and if any of you have ever read it, you'll know why I was reading that rather than typing here. It is riveting, and quite unpredictable, and overall good brain candy. The plot is action-packed, with lots of people dashing this way and that, and bolting here or there and racing about. The entire book takes place in the span of about 24 hours, which is highly unrealistic but makes for a good read.
Today we attended 11 a.m. mass instead of our usual 9 a.m. Today was Father Steve's last day at our church. A very sad day, indeed. Father Steve is pretty unique, and I guess the best way to describe him is to say that if there were only more priests like him, the Catholic Church would be in a much better place. His homilies are real, and I always left his masses feeling better, and feeling like I had a new way of looking at my trials and tribulations, and had new tools for dealing with the absurdities of life. I wish, when people look at me with the question in their eyes, "You chose to become Catholic?" I wish those people could talk to Father Steve. I know he could explain it so much better than I ever could. Heck, if they could only hear one or two of his homilies, they'd understand. Is it sacreligious to say he's a kick-ass priest? And he's Irish to boot! Gotta love that!
Father Steve came to the hospital when Zoe was born (see image at left), stopping in to visit with us, and to offer a prayer. He held Zoe, and I will never forget the joy in his eyes when did, and how he said, "Ahhh, Zoe! Zoe means life! Vitality!" A beautiful, holy man, and we are blessed to know him.
Now a whole new bunch of folks out in Dardenne Prairie are the lucky ones. God bless you, Father Steve, and may you always be surrounded by shamrocks and Scoobies.
We took a photo of Father Steve holding Zoe today with the Nikonette (that's our little point 'n shoot Nikon, lil' bro to the big dog D100), but it's a pain in the rear to hook up to the Mac and download, so I don't do it all the time. Maybe tomorrow while M is off playing walleyball...
Tonight we dropped the mattress in Zoe's crib down to the bottom setting. It only took a special tool, a half-hour of cursing, and an act of congress to do it, but it's done. Many thanks to Daddy for handling that idiotic task! Anyway, we had to drop the mattress because The Bug has become quite mobile in the last week, and has figured out that she now has the means to get to whatever it is she wants. I realized when I put her down for her nap this afternoon, and spied on her through the cracked door, and watched her sit up, put one hand on the top rail of the crib while curiously looking over her room, that it was time to drop the mattress. We kept the bumper pads off, because I'm not sure they would look right sitting so far down in the crib, and as a result, our darling daughter looks like she's sleeping in an infant jail. She seems happy in there, though, but it's probably only a matter of time before she starts sliding her cup along the bars to protest, or using a hand mirror to look outside her "cell." She's creative like that.
Okay, it's late, and tomorrow starts another work week, so I better get some sleep. I'll brush my face and wash my teeth, as Papa used to instruct, peek in one more time at my little Zozo, and hit the hay.
One last note of thanks, to a few people:
1. Thanks to Aunt Katie, Uncle Shawn, Grammy and Papa for watching Zozo Saturday night so we could attend a lovely wedding reception at Union Station.
2. Thanks to Mom and Dad Z for being our designated drivers Saturday night.
3. Thanks to Kate and Gerry for the invitation to your beautiful wedding and lovely reception...and congratulations!
4. Thanks to Steffi for going by the Farmer's Market and enduring the Honey Nazi to get my A2 honey. Now that's proof of friendship!
I'm sure I'm missing a whole bunch of other people for whom I'm grateful, but it's late and I'm tired. I'll get around to thanking y'all some day! G'night!
Today we attended 11 a.m. mass instead of our usual 9 a.m. Today was Father Steve's last day at our church. A very sad day, indeed. Father Steve is pretty unique, and I guess the best way to describe him is to say that if there were only more priests like him, the Catholic Church would be in a much better place. His homilies are real, and I always left his masses feeling better, and feeling like I had a new way of looking at my trials and tribulations, and had new tools for dealing with the absurdities of life. I wish, when people look at me with the question in their eyes, "You chose to become Catholic?" I wish those people could talk to Father Steve. I know he could explain it so much better than I ever could. Heck, if they could only hear one or two of his homilies, they'd understand. Is it sacreligious to say he's a kick-ass priest? And he's Irish to boot! Gotta love that!
Father Steve came to the hospital when Zoe was born (see image at left), stopping in to visit with us, and to offer a prayer. He held Zoe, and I will never forget the joy in his eyes when did, and how he said, "Ahhh, Zoe! Zoe means life! Vitality!" A beautiful, holy man, and we are blessed to know him.Now a whole new bunch of folks out in Dardenne Prairie are the lucky ones. God bless you, Father Steve, and may you always be surrounded by shamrocks and Scoobies.
We took a photo of Father Steve holding Zoe today with the Nikonette (that's our little point 'n shoot Nikon, lil' bro to the big dog D100), but it's a pain in the rear to hook up to the Mac and download, so I don't do it all the time. Maybe tomorrow while M is off playing walleyball...
Tonight we dropped the mattress in Zoe's crib down to the bottom setting. It only took a special tool, a half-hour of cursing, and an act of congress to do it, but it's done. Many thanks to Daddy for handling that idiotic task! Anyway, we had to drop the mattress because The Bug has become quite mobile in the last week, and has figured out that she now has the means to get to whatever it is she wants. I realized when I put her down for her nap this afternoon, and spied on her through the cracked door, and watched her sit up, put one hand on the top rail of the crib while curiously looking over her room, that it was time to drop the mattress. We kept the bumper pads off, because I'm not sure they would look right sitting so far down in the crib, and as a result, our darling daughter looks like she's sleeping in an infant jail. She seems happy in there, though, but it's probably only a matter of time before she starts sliding her cup along the bars to protest, or using a hand mirror to look outside her "cell." She's creative like that.
Okay, it's late, and tomorrow starts another work week, so I better get some sleep. I'll brush my face and wash my teeth, as Papa used to instruct, peek in one more time at my little Zozo, and hit the hay.
One last note of thanks, to a few people:
1. Thanks to Aunt Katie, Uncle Shawn, Grammy and Papa for watching Zozo Saturday night so we could attend a lovely wedding reception at Union Station.
2. Thanks to Mom and Dad Z for being our designated drivers Saturday night.
3. Thanks to Kate and Gerry for the invitation to your beautiful wedding and lovely reception...and congratulations!
4. Thanks to Steffi for going by the Farmer's Market and enduring the Honey Nazi to get my A2 honey. Now that's proof of friendship!
I'm sure I'm missing a whole bunch of other people for whom I'm grateful, but it's late and I'm tired. I'll get around to thanking y'all some day! G'night!
posted by Amy at 11:25 PM
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