July 2007


    A friend of ours recently opened an artisan bakery, which I will link to when she gets her internet presence up and running, expected sometime in the next 6-12 months.   She is still firmly in the start-up phase, experimenting to find out where her customer base is.  We would happily be 25% of her customer base, but for her sake, diversification is a smarter move.

    Today we were able to coordinate a rendezvous at the bakery (no regular retail hours yet), and Mr. Boy helped me stick to the SuperHusband’s simple instruction of "Buy too much bread".  Because there is no such thing as "too much" of Heather’s bread.

    This is the real thing, equal to or better than any bread we’ve ever had in Europe.   Fresh from the oven late this morning, eating Heather’s bread was like drinking water.  It just went down and down and down.  Butter, jam, cheese — entirely unnecessary, even distracting from the overwhelming goodness of the bread itself. 

    And this made me think about the words of Jesus:  "Man does not live on bread alone." 

    Eating sorry store-bought bread, or my sorry attempts at home-made bread, I am always inclined to think the follow-on ought to be, "You need to toast it with cheese just to make it edible."   A little better, I take "bread alone" to be a stand-in for "food and water" or "physical sustenance" or what have you. 

    But if you could bake the way my friend Heather bakes, you really could live on bread alone.  You would not get tired of it.  You would eat until you were stuffed and then make yourself quit either to avoid outright gluttony or because there was no more bread.  The prospect of living on a diet of bread and water would not seem penitential, it would seem exciting.

    Here in the American middle class, it is easy to get caught in vortex of bread alone.  We aren’t (thankfully) so poor that we must beg God for essentials of physical survival.  We aren’t so rich that we can have all the world has to offer, and thereby learn that what the world has to offer is insufficient. 

    For a housewife like myself, it is easy to be always be thinking about building my little domestic paradise, with delicious meals and a comfy home and a cheerful garden, and maybe even some well-behaved and partly-educated children to boot.   Fortunately I am not actually good at creating such a domestic paradise, despite having the financial resources to pull it off,  so I end up turning to God for help on that end. 

    Nothing wrong in asking for that daily bread, as instructed.    Just not the bread alone.  I ought to be longing for His Kingdom to come as much, or more, than I’m longing the daily bread.

   

My apologies to the faithful readership for failing to report in sooner.  It’s been busy here, though I can’t say what exactly we’ve been doing — I think just cleaning the house and visiting people.  School year turned over and I’ve got to quick get out all my paperwork for that; Mr. Boy’s report card is nearly finished, and then I need to write up curricula for him (2nd grade) and LP, who starts kindergarten. 

I’m hoping to get some book reviews posted here sooner or later, but in the meantime let me share the most incredible of my library finds:


Yes, this is a real book.   I checked it out from the library just to prove to the SuperHusband that it really existed. 

Not a bad book, by the way, from the tidbits I’ve read.  My internet friend Meg (who will teach you all about pregnancy tests at her site peeonastick.com) gave a positive review to Catholicism for Dummies on a private forum — warning us to avoid the corresponding Idiot’s Guide, which she found to be dissenter-friendly.   I can report that Latin for Dummies has a very useful chapter on ecclesiastical Latin.  So it looks like JPII for Dummies is all part of a gradual infiltration of the Dummy franchise into the "thinking man’s" religion.  

When the product line is complete, it could be a useful way to measure where one falls on the Catholic Intellectual scale.  I can read the catechism myself, no problem, but yes I’ll admit, I am eagerly awaiting the day my library stocks The Summa for Dummies.

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I’m predicting that the next few weeks will find me immersed once again in real life, so expect light to drought-like blogging here.  But the blogs linked on my sidebar offer a wealth of fabulous links of their own, enough great reading to help you goof off for hours at a time.  

 

I had a weird time finding the online obituary, but it’s here.  Curiously, I had no idea whatsoever about TR’s real estate career.  His home is plastered with all kinds of military memorabilia (most of it his own), but absolutely zero real estate memorabilia.  Go figure.  All those years I could have been asking, "tell me a story about when you were in real estate . . . "

 

 

 

Please pray for the repose of the soul of T.R. Johnson, who died yesterday morning, age 88.  If an obituary is published I will post it.  To my knowledge there is not going to be a funeral, per his request.

 

It is suspected that his "last words" involved saying hello to SB (big smile), and asking me what we were doing there.  Or some other question I couldn’t quite catch, and gave an answer that he probably didn’t understand, as I don’t shout well.  

 

Much more characteristic were his next-to-last words, the previous day, said to my brother-in-law, who was chatting up the nurse.  After she left, TR, retired navy and a bachelor himself, informed BIL, "Don’t waste your time on her.  Wait till you see the dish who works the afternoon shift."