First off, I want to wish my husband, Eli, a very happy 37th birthday! I am very sorry he has to work a 12 hour shift on overnights today. This hardworking man, who threw himself a birthday party on his 25th, declared today "is just another day". Having been with him since he was 23, in a way I feel like we've "grown up" together. We can now companionably shake our heads at some of the stupid things we've done in the past. That may or may not include jumping off of steep embankments into deep water and hiding in bushes from each other.
Eli through the years...in case anyone wondered where Ian got his blond hair.
Speaking of hiding in bushes, that is exactly how Eli got his nickname, Sly Dog. It's even tattooed on his shoulder, with a pit bull crowning the words. The story I've heard is that Eli was playing hide-and-seek at a friend's house, and was sneaking around in the bushes by the front porch (where the adults were sitting) to avoid being seen. One of the adults called down to him, "What are you doing down there, Sly Dog?" It stuck in a big way. I'm not even sure if the friends who call him that know why.
Eli will not get a 23-page story like the boys did for their birthdays. While I think it'd be a (mostly) fun and entertaining write-up, he's been either at work or sleeping for the majority of the last five days and I haven't had time to properly interview him. He also may not like the idea, which must be taken into consideration. To summarize, a few of Eli's favorite things include steak, cocktails/beer, bowling, and golf.
Happy Birthday dear husband!
Today, as a farewell gift from the priests of St. Thomas Aquinas seminary, we were given a sung High (Latin) Mass at our little mission chapel. Thinking about this has me in tears, because the reality of it is just sinking in. The seminary is relocating to Virginia this year, to a beautiful new site that is in the last stages of being completed. Since I was 14 and first attended Mass at the chapel, the priests from the seminary would come down to say Mass for us and minister to our needs. We've been so blessed to have the seminary as close as it has been. It was such a happy time today, with three priests present who have been there through some of my high school years and all my married life. Fr. Iscara was there from the very beginning, the rough start of attending Mass in hotel rooms until we raised enough money to buy a church. He also baptized Liam. Fr. Abbet sung Mass today, and was our first pastor after Eli and I were married. He baptized our first two babies, Aidan and Gavin. And then Fr. Wood, who counselled me through some of the darkest, hardest times of my married life, and gave Aidan his first Holy Communion, was there. He sat with us in the pew during the sermon today. I'm not sure when or if I'll see them again. I realized with a shock today how much we take our priests for granted. I wish I would've taken more time today to talk to each one. I had the opportunity, but I'm a horrible speaker and didn't grasp the gravity of the moment. The right words seldom come out of my mouth when I need them to. And so, I will write them each a letter.
I recorded a clip of part of the sung High Mass so you can hear what we were treated to. It begins with the Kyrie Eleison. The audio clip I originally recorded wouldn't upload here so I rerecorded it "80's-style", this time taking a video of the audio. I'll get there.... :)
After Mass we had a potluck in the church basement. Children played ball outside while seminarians coached. I visited with a great group of friends.
After people were finished eating the seminarians serenaded us with a couple songs. Here I only got a small clip of "Salve Regina", but it's a sample of the great voices we were treated to today (in case the other clip doesn't work). It was a beautiful day.
Today is the feast day of St. Rita, who I've adopted as one of my most influential patronesses. Her feast day lands conveniently on my husband's birthday. I've claimed before, only half jokingly, that St. Rita is my babysitter, helping keep my boys from harm when they're out of my sight. She also has a protective bubble around my vehicle, having finally broken my streak of citations (it's been 4 years since I was pulled over by police). Oftentimes the favor for which I was pleading is granted immediately after asking for her assistance. This is no joke, and I'd be doing a disservice to a great friend if I let her feast day pass without notice.
I was elated when I learned our parish was getting a statue of St. Rita this year. It was because of a story told by our current pastor, Fr. Iscara, that my devotion to her began. Fr. Iscara hails from Argentina, though he is a professor now at St. Thomas Aquinas seminary in Winona, Minnesota. On a trip back to his home land the card he needed to get back into the U.S. was lost. Obtaining a new one often takes months, if at all. He began fervently praying to St. Rita, and within a short time a new card was issued to Father. "I could really use that kind of help!" I thought.
Our parish's new statue of St. Rita
St. Rita of Casciawas an Augustinian nun from 14th century Cascia, Italy. She is the patroness of impossible causes and hopeless circumstances because of her difficult and disappointing life. Through her trials God used her in remarkable ways, not only while she lived, but now from heaven she assists those who plead for her intercession for their own seemingly impossible and hopeless circumstances.
From an early age St. Rita desired to become a nun, but her parents insisted that she marry at the age of twelve. St. Rita did so in obedience to them. Adding to her disappointment, the man her parents arranged for her to marry was cruel and harsh, and she spent 18 years in a very difficult marriage. Her husband eventually became physically abusive, yet she met his cruelty with kindness and patience. Two sons were born to her whom she loved deeply. After many years she eventually won her husband over to greater civility and kindness.
In the 14th century Italy was rampant with warring families caught in a vicious circle of assassinations and bloody vendettas (think Romeo and Juliet). St. Rita’s family was caught up in this strife that was so entrenched in society at that time. Her husband was murdered as a result of the infamous rivalry between the Guelphs and the Ghibellines. St. Rita mourned her husband’s death and interceded for his soul with great earnest.
Celebrating the feast of St. Rita in Cascia, Italy
Her two young sons, in keeping with the vice of the day, talked of avenging their father’s death. St. Rita did all she could to guide her children into forgiveness, but was unable to dissuade them from their evil intentions. Prayer was her only hope. She prayed that God would change the evil swelling up in the hearts of her sons, or allow them to die before they had the chance to commit a mortal sin and in so doing be separated from God forever. God granted her prayers. Both of her two sons died within a year in a state of grace; they were prevented from following the evil path of their father.
After the death of her husband and her sons, St. Rita was all alone in the world and sought again to enter the convent. She was turned away because of her family’s association with the civil strife; some of the sisters living in the convent were family relations of the men who were responsible for killing her husband. To maintain peace, she was denied entry.
St. Rita, again facing crushing disappointment and yet another impossible situation, had recourse to prayer and the intercession of the saints. St. Rita’s sincerity and spirit of charity and forgiveness prevailed and she was eventually granted entry. She became known as a holy and prayerful nun, often meditating on the sufferings of the crucified Christ.
One day, while praying before a crucifix, St. Rita received a visible wound on her forehead. This was a mystical yet visible mark (stigmata) of Jesus’ wound from the crown of thorns, symbolizing St. Rita’s unity with Christ in his sufferings. She also enjoyed many mystical experiences with Christ during the forty years she lived in the convent. She died on May 22 when she was in her seventies.
St. Rita certainly had a difficult life, but her heartbreaking circumstances drove her to prayer and helped her to become a holy woman. She began her work of intercession for sinners while she lived, starting with those closest to her heart. Through her love and prayers she won the grace of conversion for her husband and both her sons.
Even though her life was full of sorrows and disappointments, she was consoled by being closely united with Christ. He did not abandon her; rather He granted her profound and intimate graces. Now a saint in heaven, St. Rita is the patron of impossible causes, sterility, abuse victims, loneliness, marriage difficulties, parenthood, widows, the sick, and bodily ills and wounds. She is also one of the Church’s incorruptible saints, her body venerated at the basilica named for her in Cascia, Italy.
The incorrupt body of St. Rita at Basilica of St Rita in Cascia, Italy.
I haven't had a lot of time lately to craft much of anything, but I have finished a project that's been in the works for a long long time. Right around seven months, long.
My parents received this outdoor statue of Our Lady of Grace from my brother last summer. A few months later my Dad asked if I could try to paint it. And try I did. I said it could be part of his birthday gift. I greatly overestimated my work ethic (funny how that keeps happening), and had to change it to a Christmas gift. And then it became an Easter gift. Turns out it'll be more of an anniversary gift for my parents after all.
Mary has become a familiar sight around here as she migrated from one prominent position or another (so I wouldn't forget to get back to work). It's going to be strange with her gone.
Progress
A bit more...
The boys decided to have their ice cream cones in Mary's new home during her absence. But she is finally home!
At barely 1000 square feet, our current home can be described as cozy. It's like a well-worn shoe that knows the contours of your foot, but the foot has kept growing and the shoe is getting uncomfortably snug. The original portion of the house, built in the early 1900's, is only about 600 square feet. More recently, a back porch was remodeled to add an extra 400 square feet of living space. This space is currently our dining room. The layout is very convenient and open, making the house feel bigger than what it is. But with only two smallish bedrooms for six people, this calls for some creativity in arranging things. There are two dressers squeezed into the boys' room, three in ours, and the standard-sized closets are literally stacked to the ceiling with stuff. Bunk beds are essential, and we recently had to upgrade the boys to a double-over-double bunk bed with a pull-out trundle bed underneath. Rearranging furniture is out of the question, unless it's a "six inches to the left" kind of move. I have given away kitchen supplies and other perfectly good things for lack of space to store them. It works...though not ideal. And no, we do not have an upstairs or a finished basement (we get these questions often).
The side yard, which is essentially our back yard, garden behind the garage, and front door (which faces north). It's a double corner lot.
The street side of the house and back door. There's a rock walkway between the house and garage that serves as a path to the garden and yard (and composter).
Disclaimer: a few of these photos were taken last summer when the house was in "company condition", not the "lived in condition" of everyday life. They weren't updated for this post because the rooms either look exactly the same yet or are in some state of dishevelment. My goal for this blog is to "keep it real", and since I also occasionally share "real life" photos of the house, I need these nice photos to balance it out a bit...and proof that I do pick up once in a while. ;)
View of dining room from the back door
View of dining room from the kitchen
Dining room, looking toward the back door. Curtains on laundry closet are closed when company's here....
Entryway by back door, basement door on right
Dining room
Bathroom
Bathroom
The kitchen is right in the middle of the house; you have to walk through it to get from one end to the other.
Kitchen
Kitchen, looking into living room
Kitchen
Kitchen, looking at the back door in dining room. And a bearded beast.
Kitchen
Living room, looking into kitchen. Dots all over the wall to the left mark where I spackled nail holes from my gallery wall, yet to be repainted.
Living room, looking through kitchen and dining room. Boys' room door is behind the TV.
Living room, facing the porch door and our bedroom door on the left
