So a while back, I invited readers of the blog to vote for their favorite Sesame Street character (because everyone has one, right?). The poll is hereby closed and I am ready to announce the winner!
Was it the slovenly Oscar or the earnest Big Bird? The BFFS Bert and Ernie, or the urbane Count with his bat groupies? Or perhaps it was the beloved bath toy Rubber Duckie, who is, as Ernie’s song goes, “the one”?
Actually, it was none of the above. The winner, based on my totally random sampling of blog readers, is:
COOKIE MONSTER!
It was a pretty close race spread out among numerous characters, but Cookie Monster has won. And even though I didn’t vote for him ( the Count is my fave), I do see his appeal. He’s a lovely shade of blue. He has unfettered enthusiasm for the joys of the cookie. Not to get all Freudian on you, but I’m just realizing that he kind of represents the Id — he’s a big old lovable mass of instincts and urges and desires that are not hindered by social expectations. If he sees a cookie, or anything remotely in the range thereof, he eats it. Period. Worries about propriety or his waistline seldom come into the picture.
Is it just me, or does that sound kind of appealing?
Over on Facebook , I just took a quiz called “Which Saint Are You?”. On the basis of eight penetrating questions (“Which of these animals is your favorite?” ), it appears that I am most like … drumroll, please …
St. Francis of Assisi!
On the one hand, it’s not too surprising. I do like nature and harmony and living peacefully with all of God’s creatures. There’s a glaring exception, though: garden snails and slugs. To them, I am the anti-Francis. The large, half-empty squeeze bottle of liquid snail bait that is sitting in my garage is proof enough of that.
This in turn begs the question: Can you think of any saints that waged prolonged spiritual and physical warfare against gastropods?
I’m not really a morning person. Oh sure, I like it when I just happen to wake up before anyone else, and I can have a little quiet time to myself. But I never really make an effort to rise early.
But then I see this picture, and I think: Wouldn’t it be nice to be this lady, off for a quiet stroll on a bright lovely morning?
Maybe I’ll try it one of these days. I might dress a bit more casually, though.
If I were ever to become a priest (which, obviously, I won’t), I think I’d become a Paulist. I love their mission … and I love their website, BustedHalo.com. It’s a great site for people who want to know more about faith and culture and how the two maybe kinda go together.
And guess what? I’m their new resident “Mary expert.” If you have any questions about Mary — who she is, what Catholics believe about her, etc. — you can submit them on BustedHalo.com and I’ll answer them. In roughly 150 words. (Yes, I will be praying to Our Lady of Pithiness for help here.)
My impatiens are, at last, in full bloom! They are a great complement to this serene white Mary:
Actually, I thought of calling this post “Patience and Impatiens,” but then decided against it. It sounds too much like a lame attempt at Jane Austen. A girl’s gotta have some standards.
A few posts ago, I asked folks to share their least favorite household task. Mine is picking up kids’ toys. I also loathe vacuuming. Scrubbing the tub isn’t a whole lot of fun, either; I’d much rather blog about it than do it. When I clean house, it always looks great for a while … and then, before you can say “Mr. Clean’s Magic Eraser,” it’s dirty again.
But I don’t like to live in squalor, so I do haul out the Simple Green and the vaccuum. I always feel better for having done so. And recently, a friend sent me this very sweet, very old poem (thank you, Lisa!). It’s nice to be reminded that there is a grace to be found in all of those household tasks … and to remember that Mary did them, too.
Our Lady of the Broom
By J. G. Shaw
The large and lovely lessons
You taught with little breath
In the liturgy of the hour
In the house at Nazareth
Are such fantastic simple things
That mortals may presume
To call the Queen of Seraphim
Our Lady of the Broom.
For you who rule the angels
Built up our legacy
By living a life of little things
That we do every day.
You cooked, cleaned, washed and mended,
Scrubbed the kitchen floor,
Teaching a world the woman’s way
To worship and adore.
How beautifully you taught us
Where all perfection lies
By seeing all salvation in
The work before your eyes,
Immensity in little space
The world in the humble room
You swept and kept and cared for,
Our Lady of the Broom.
Do you write letters anymore? I mean honest-to-goodness letters on paper, that you put into an envelope and send with a stamp?
I’ve been thinking about this lately, because I’m reading The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society. Asmany of you know, it’s a novel told in letters. (It’s also UTTERLY delightful, and I recommend reading it, even though it took me about a week to learn the title.)
Unlike the charming characters in the book, most of my communication these days takes place by email. I write letters by hands less and less frequently these days. Usually, when I do, they are either 1) thank -you notes or 2) epistles to my friend in Paris. Those missives are pretty infrequent, though, which is totally my fault; it takes a certain amount of energy for me to scour off my rusty French and write her.
But I love it when I get a letter in the mail. It’s so tangible and timeless. It makes me feel special, as if the person sending it feels I am worthy of the effort involved in finding stationery, looking up my address, and affixing a stamp. It IS different from electronic communication, in lots of ways. Gosh, there’s so much more to say about this. I think I feel an article coming on.
But I’m curious about your written communication habits, too. Do you write letters anymore? If not, why not? And do you ever miss them?
Did you ever see the movie About Schmidt ? It’s the only film I know that uses Hummel figurines as a way to show the main character’s emotional development (yes, you did read that correctly). The fact that the character in question is played by Jack Nicholson makes it all the more intriguing. Call me crazy, but I don’t normally associate him with cherubic figurines of kids at play.
I loved that part of the movie, though, because I’m pretty fond of Hummels. My mom collects them, so they represent childhood and home to me. They’re pretty irresistible, with their sweet faces and their kerchiefs and big floppy shoes.
I also love the Hummel Madonnas. I have one on my dresser, a Mother’s Day gift from my fabulous in-laws. She’s the pride of the room. And if you like sweet pictures of the Holy Family, you’ll love this one:
Every time I see it, it makes me happy… and I can’t think of a nicer thing for a picture to do.
I'm a formerly lapsed Catholic who likes to write about faith, real life, and how the two intersect. Oh, and I love Mary -- check out my book Mary and Me below!
And guess what? I’m their new resident “Mary expert.” If you have any questions about Mary — who she is, what Catholics believe about her, etc. — you can submit them on BustedHalo.com and I’ll answer them. In roughly 150 words. (Yes, I will be praying to Our Lady of Pithiness for help here.)
with a stamp?
