We continue to celebrate Christmas to the eve of Epiphany. We give each child a small gift every morning. Most gifts cost $1 or $2, but there are some pricier ones in there. Credit my wife with the amazing hassle of organizing those “twelve days of Christmas” gifts. We started the tradition when our youngest were just toddlers, because we remembered the “post-Christmas blues” and wanted our children to have a softer landing. I’ve never seen a trace of pCbs on their faces, so I think it works. I also like the idea of emphasizing that Christmas isn’t a one-day affair. If more Americans got in touch with the rhythms of the liturgical calendar, they’d be happier. - Eric of "The Daily Eudemon"
We got back from Madison, Wisconsin Sunday night. That morning we awoke to a temperature barely above zero, with a wind chill of -22. This is the kind of cold that draws the cajones up into the safety of their pre-pubescent shelter. And yet human beings have managed to make habitation there. Why remains a mystery. It must be the quality of the cheese....I haven't had time to sit in silence and ponder the absolute uniqueness in the world's history of the Event we celebrate tonight and tomorrow, and on, I suppose, through Epiphany. I'd like to have one myself. - Bill of Apologia
The sacrifice you want to make isn't always the sacrifice God wants. - Eve Tushnet's nomination for "What philosophical thesis do you think it most important to disseminate?"
The human body is an instrument, not an ikon. - Eve Tushnet's candidate for "What philosophical thesis do you think it most important to combat?"
- photo posted by Frederick of "Deep Furrows"
When I was ten, in Maryland,
The first snow came on Christmas Eve;
I ran to see, took Mother's hand,
"Look," she whispered, "and now believe
Things sometimes happen as the stories say."
I watched it fall, my heart ran wild,
The whiteness turning dark to day
Like the star at the birth of the manger child.
It sparkled in the frosty night
And settled soundless on the window pane,
Coating a car in the streetlamp's light,
My yard a brightly jeweled terrain.
And I believed what the stories told
Of mythic strangers bearing gifts,
Let snow, a mantle from heaven, fall;
Swaddle us in your white array
(A royal robe, a shroud and pall)
That I may believe what the stories told,
That by a Death was sin undone,
That Life was born in a stable cold -
So cover us now, and make us one.
- Bill Luse of Apologia
The Presence of Grace and Other Book Reviews... is a collection of the book reviews O’Connor wrote for the Georgia Bulletin (now from the Archdiocese of Atlanta) and the Southern Cross (Diocese of Savannah) from 1956 to just a couple of months before her death in 1964. Now ask yourselves. What diocesan newspaper is seeking out Catholic writers of literary fiction (and there are some out there) to pen book reviews for them? To pen anything? - Amy Welborn Dubriel
Mass was taken out of it [too]. - blogger at Army of Martyrs via Sancta Sanctis on the taking of "Christ" out of Christmas
I wore my pedometer Christmas Eve after the kids went to bed. I logged in over a mile of walking, just carrying presents up the stairs to put under the tree. - Eric Scheske on what’s it like to prepare Christmas for seven children
Civilization is sublimated eros. But then so is sex. - Maggie Gallagher in "Enemies of Eros"
For who can be properly nourished, if indeed he be of human stock, without wine? St. Paul said to someone who had consulted him (without remembering that, unlike St. Luke, he was no physician), ‘Take a little wine for your stomach’s sake.’ But I say, take plenty of it for the sake of your soul and all that appertains to the soul: scholarship; verse; social memory and the continuity of all culture. There may be excess in wine; as there certainly is in spirits and champagne, but in wine one rarely comes across it; for it seems to me that true wine rings a bell and tells you when you have had enough. But there is certainly such a thing as a deficiency of wine; and such a deficiency is one of the most awful ravenous beasts that can fasten upon a living soul… - Hilaire Belloc quoted by the blogger at "Old World Swine"