Actually, Frank Weathers accepted me into RandBusters™ before I wrote the preceding entry. He did it on the strength of a couple of blog posts I'd done earlier: "If I could tell a story" (this blog) and "Of robber barons and moral codes" (The Other Blog). Thanks, Frank!
Pat Archbold has printed a list of names of his favorite bloggers on his National Catholic Register blog. Many of them are also my favorites, but he also left off a few. I tried to make up for it in my comment there; alas, I don't think I've mentioned everybody. Get on over there and mention each other, for cryin' out loud!
Wednesday was the anniversary of the falling asleep of one whom we might one day call Saint Gilbert of Battersea. I celebrated it by reading his epic poem, The Ballad of the White Horse, and by downloading and reading his autobiography. (It was only available in HTML and text formats. If you'd like to read it, I've reformatted it and put it in a PDF file; drop me an email and I'll send it to you.)
Knight of the Holy Ghost, he goes his way,
Wisdom his motley, Truth his loving jest;
The mills of Satan keep his lance in play,
Pity and innocence his heart at rest.
—Walter de la Mare
Slowly but surely, the list of summer cleaning chores is getting done. The fastest was the gutters: there were no leaves in them, but the one in back had a clog just beyond the first bend in the drainpipe as it descends from the gutter. Less than ten minutes all told. Today, we swept out the garage ... lots of leaves, gravel and dandelion fluff! Not to mention various receipts, candy wrappers and bits of packing popcorn—whose bright idea was that, anyway?
You know what an earworm is, right? (I like that term better than "humsickness", "repetunitis" or "ear wedgy".) This is what's been going through my head all #*$!& week! Guys: minimize the window to practice custody of the eyes ... and also to keep from busting a gut at the absolutely ridiculous pompadours; the lead singer looks like a cross between Billy Joel and a French poodle.
I have two clear competitors for Best Line I've Read All Week. One is from Chesterton's Autobiography: "My brother, Cecil Edward Chesterton, was born when I was about five years old; and, after a brief pause, began to argue." The other comes from Simcha Fisher's NCRegister blog entry, "Espressivo": "Once, when he was striving to explain sonata form, I coolly answered that I’d rather let the music just wash over me, instead of wrecking the mood by overthinking it. By the look he gave me, I think he heard me say something like, 'I prefer to let small children be mutilated by elephants, rather than harsh my buzz.'" Which do you think is better?
For me, summer is only tangentially connected to apohelion (yes, folks, when it's summer in the northern hemisphere, the earth is actually at its furthest from the sun). In Omaha when I was a kid, summer always began Memorial Day (when the pools opened) and ended Labor Day (the last day of school vacation). Even down here in north-central Texas, where summer weather begins around May Day and ends just before Halloween, that's still how I block off summer mentally and emotionally. However, since it is warmer down here, we can grill on Martin Luther King Day if we so choose .... When does summer begin and end for you?
Once again, tune in on Sunday for Random Political Observations! Keep me in your prayers!