Sunday, September 25, 2016

The First Thing After Mass This Sunday - A Bit of Yardwork

I know the garage is back there. Casa Hickey - a modest raised ranch in Morgan Park.

I get busy.  Drafting poignant, witty and very important indictments of folly universal do not spring unarmed from the HP keyboard like Minerva from the head of Jove, I can tell you.

No siree!  It takes hours of reading, determined distillation of facts and sober application of information to universal truths and Cardinal virtues before this son of 79th Street and blue collar values pounds out some wordage.

I tend to multi-task - taking time to smell the flowers, meditate on my own and mankind's follies, whip up a snack or two, and hold the cat up to whirling kitchen fan until it snarls in rage and just tickles me to death, before I take pen to paper, or finger the keys.

Hygiene is inportant - no dishes in sink, no biohazards in the ice box and no laundry blocking the view of the old flat-screen.

Outside lawn care?  Way down on the Daddy- do list.

My lawn, as I have noted here on many occassions, is a closely cropped collection of Collards, Clover, Cabombaceae, Cactaceae and some grass.

I have a cordial hatred dandelions and excise their presence with immediate and profound violence.

Others I take a liberal dislike, but will tolerate their presence up to a point.

However, this past week I have let things go like Angela Merkel at a U.N. buffet.

I determine to make things right.  I will go to Mass at Scared Heart Church and take in the Gospel message and Father Gallagher's always wonderful treatment of the text and pray the Memorare for the strength, energy and attention necessary to make things right.

One thing could block my intentions and efforts -Vade retro me Satana!

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