O.K., maybe not "Prohibited by Law". The blog-owner presumeth authority but he hath it not. Still, it would be nice. Even if not "by law".

 

I can't think of any either . . . .

 

Exercizing the Franchise

 And so I did.  Indeed, we did, herself and I last Thursday.  Somewhat of a pointless exercize, this being California and all.  The Democrats have the state in their back pocket.  They don't even need to indulge in that, um, electoral slight of hand that they do elsewhere.  Although, rumor has it that they do anyway.  Can't imagine why.  Force of habit?  Just to keep their hand in?  So far as I can tell, it's wholly unnecessary.   

Hood Ornament

 Tuxedo-clad neighbor having a nap: a cool morning and a warm car hood.  As seen through a kitchen window perhaps in need of a soft cloth and some Windex.

Plus-ça-change Department

 Journalists ought not to be distrusted because they are worse than other people.  They are not.  They ought to be distrusted because they are more powerful than other people; because they have, like the priests of old, the keys of knowledge, and can if they will shut others out and go not in themselves.  A conspiracy of journalists could easily hurl the whole of this nation  upon political ruin.    

-G. K. Chesterton in "The World" September 20, 1904.

A Hymn for Election Day

O God of earth and altar,

Bow down and hear our cry,

Our earthly rulers falter,

Our people drift and die;

The walls of gold entomb us,

The swords of scorn divide,

Take not thy thunder from us,

But take away our pride.



From all that terror teaches,

From lies of tongue and pen,

From all the easy speeches

That comfort cruel men,

From sale and profanation

Of honour and the sword,

From sleep and from damnation,

Deliver us, good Lord.



Tie in a living tether

The prince and priest and thrall,

Bind all our lives together,

Smite us and save us all;

In ire and exultation

Aflame with faith, and free,

Lift up a living nation,

A single sword to thee.

(The music and text are in the old 1940 Hymnal at #521 . . . but since the text is one of G.K.'s poems, I actually copied  and pasted the above from the Chesterton Society's very useful webpage here.)

 

A Suggestion to Add to Daily Prayer

 -from the Fall 2024 number of Latin Mass magazine, page 6

As is often the case, you can click the above image to make it larger.  Possibly too large.  But certainly more legible.

Well That's Interesting . . . .

 Q. 338   Can a General Council Depose the Pope?

Strictly speaking, such a council could depose a Pope only in the case the Pope became a heretic, not however if he became immoral.  Where there are several pretenders, as happened during the Western Schism, the council passes on the claims of each, declares a certain one to be the rightful Pope, according to the proofs, and if this man approves the decrees he becomes the lawful  pontiff.  Even then he may abdicate.

-from "Setting it Right" , (1927), by the Rev. Dr. Charles F. McGinnis, Ph.D., S.T.L., formerly Professor of philosophy in St. Thomas College and Professor of Apologetics in College of St. Catherine, St. Paul, Minn., Author of "The Communion of Saints", etc., etc.

Babylon Bee Nails It Once Again

 

Well, tbh, as they say, I wouldn't definitely vote on that basis.

But I would be sorely tempted.

"Miracles of Stupidity"

The latest number of "Touchstone" actually arrived a couple of weeks or so ago.  But I only got into it the other day in my comfy chair while feeling sorry for myself and my cold or flu or whatever it was.  And still is, if it comes to that. At least a bit with the remains of the cough and the absence of energy still hanging on.

Where was I?

Oh, yes.  Touchstone.   Wonderful magazine.  You really should subscribe if you don't already.   This issue, the September/October 2024 number,  starts out with a bang, as it so often does, with a couple of paragraphs from S.M. Hutchens in the Quodlibet section.  Herewith:

“Radical inclusiveness,” like “reaching room temperature,” is a euphemism for death, and those who practice it doom themselves. An institution or organism is radically and actively exclusive, living by a rigid and infinitely complex rule of what it keeps in and out of itself to maintain integrity and health. It is a Miracle of Stupidity that leaders in the churches, who, above all people, should know better, seize upon and radicalize the concept of inclusiveness and make it a virtue in the reputed service of the Lord, who declared himself to be an instrument of radical division, the bringer of a sword, the separator of the saved and the damned. But such churchmen at least do the faithful the service of identifying themselves by their maxims as fools who are not to be followed.

“Miracles of Stupidity” into which people educate themselves are well worth identifying and enumerating—as, for example, “diversity-as-virtue,” a euphemism for the exclusion of the Other in the chaos of mass self-affirmation.

Wonderful way to start an issue.  And not one, but four pieces by Anthony Esolen should one continue to read further.  Tolle, lege, indeed. 

A Prayer for the Government

I know:  I've posted this before.   But I had the misfortune to be stuck listening to political television for what seemed like an hour but was probably, oh, 15 minutes or so.  Hence this collect.  

I think I acknowledged on the first posting that, considering who the individuals mentioned in this collect actually are, it's asking rather a lot of the dear Lord. But He is omnipotent; He can do it.  But do we deserve it?  Oh, dear.  I probably don't.  But you might.  

So:

 O Lord our Governor, whose glory is in all the world: We commend this nation to Thy merciful care, that, being guided by Thy Providence, we may dwell secure in Thy peace. Grant to the President of these United States, the Governor of this State, and to all in authority, wisdom and strength to know and to do Thy will. Fill them with the love of truth and righteousness, and make them ever mindful of their calling to serve this people in Thy fear; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who liveth and reigneth with Thee and the Holy Ghost, ever one God, world without end. Amen.

Cardinal Burke's Novena

It occurred to me this morning that I never posted a reference to Cardinal Burke's nine month novena to Our Lady of Guadalupe here on The Inn.  I meant to. . . but, alas, here we are four months late and still no link to the novena.  

Remedied herewith:  Cardinal Burke's Novena to Our Lady of Guadalupe.  

The page linked above assumes that you are beginning now and now is the middle of March, which, of course, it isn't.  It's the middle of July.   You can begin in March if you like.  But that's a lot of catching up to do.  I suggest paging ahead to today, which would make it a novena of five months instead of nine.  Don't miss his past Reflections, though.  There are only two or three per month;  much easier to catch up.

(I wonder what a five month novena ought to be called?  Probably a quint- something.)

Another Carmel at the End of the Line

Fr Zuhlsdorf's excellent blog this morning cites us to a National Catholic Register article about yet another Carmel reaching the end of its life.  

The 412 year old Carmel of Lucerna in Spain is down to three nuns and must close.  Says the article:

The community of Discalced Carmelites of San José monastery in Lucena in Spain’s Córdoba province, to whom Pope Francis sent several messages because of his friendship with a former prioress, is being forced to leave after the order’s presence of more than 400 years in the city due to lack of vocations.

Mother Mary Magdalene of St. John of the Cross, prioress of the small community, explained in a statement that “with great pain and great sadness, because there are only three nuns left, the scarcity of vocations and being requested by another Carmel in need, we saw that it is God’s will that our mission here had concluded,” reported the Iglesia en Córdoba (The Church in Córdoba), a weekly newspaper of the Spanish diocese.

Fr Z's commentary is apt.  It's unfortunate that he has to say it at all;  it should be obvious.  But considering the state of the Church . . . apparently not.

 

Sad News from Lisieux

This story entitled "Little Flower’s Carmelite community faces ‘profound changes’" appeared as a recent post in the (relatively) new Catholic news page The Pillar.

I suspect you don't need me to tell you at least a couple of the causes:  Cor Orans and no new vocations for a very long time.

Perhaps I'm wrong?  It's been known to happen a time or two.  But the article is here; you can draw your own conclusions.

The Carmelite Martyrs of Guadalajara

 This Guadalajara is not in Mexico, but in Spain.  These Carmelite nuns were murdered during the Spanish civil war of the late 1930s.  Their feast day is today, 24 July.

Mrs Vidal relates their story here. 

Dear Assorted Charities, mostly Religious, a few not:

 You can stop sending me those cheap, skinny little bags with the charity logos and egregiously sentimental pictures on them.  I now have far more than any human being is ever likely to need or want.  In fact, the current supply and any more that arrive, will go to the St Vincent de Paul Society or the Good Will or whoever next says they're going to be coming around collecting. (Well, somebody might have a use for them.  Can't imagine who.  But you never know.)

Just for the record, if  I were going to donate to you, I would regardless of the presence of the little "tote bag" as you rather misleadingly call it, as actual tote bags are considerably larger.  And if I were not going to donate to you the "tote bag" isn't going to change my mind.

Instead, why not just tell me in the cover letter that your outfit is dropping the Novus Ordo and is going over to the traditional Roman Rite Mass.  

In Latin.  

I could scare up a few ducats for that.

Found While Looking for Something Else

 The Scottish Fiddle Orchestra playing in a railroad station a couple of years ago.  Not quite as large a complement of musicians as I'm used to seeing but still a delightful sound and some great tunes.

Friday the 13th . . .

 . . .comes on a Saturday this month so be careful not to break any ladders or walk under any black cats.

And above all, don't be superstitious.  It's bad luck to be superstitious.

It's the BB, So Meant as Satire, but . . . .

. . . .surprisingly true.  Mostly.

This one here. 

Our Annual Patriotic Bacchanalia Dawns

Well, here we are again:  the glorious 4th is upon us.  The legal fireworks won't begin until dusk as all they have going for them are the lights.  You need darkness to fully appreciate the twirling lights.   But the illegal ones.  Ah, yes.  They've been going on and off all afternoon.  One is apparently not sufficiently patriotic in the absence of explosive devices   Pyromania is all right in its place but unless you can detonate extremely loud explosions sufficient to terrify the neighbourhood pets, bring back PTSD in some of  the local veterans, and rattle the pictures on my wall you're just not trying.

This year some of the local freedom-loving brethren have added a sound system in their front lawn with a soul-deadening, multi-decibel, thumping bass.

Can H.M. King George III actually have been all that bad?

[Addendum:  Apparently these folks could use some lessons from our neighborhood.]

Hard Sayings from this morning's Mattins

This bit from the 78th psalm struck me particularly:

 I will declare hard sentences of old which we have heard and known,  and such as our fathers have told us:  That we should not hide them from the children of the generations to come,  but to show the honour of the Lord, his mighty and wonderful works that he hath done.

The RSV calls them "dark sayings".   I don't know if that's an improvement or not.  It does take the text in a different direction than the older version.   In any event, it's interesting the way a text one has read a hundred times, on the hundred and first reading carries one away on a completely unexpected meditation.

Some Old Collects That Some May Find . . . Useful

 

They shall not be partakers of the holy things,
till there arise up an high priest clothed with doctrine and truth.

V. Let Thy priests be clothed with righteousness

  R.   And let Thy saints sing with joyfulness.

Oremus.

We humbly beseech Thee, O Lord : that of Thy unbounded mercy Thou wouldst grant unto the holy Roman Church a Pontiff; who by his tender care towards us may ever find favour in Thy sight, and, studying to preserve Thy people in safety and in truth, may ever be honoured by us to the glory of Thy name.  Through Christ our Lord. Amen. 

Let the abundance of Thy mercy assist us, O Lord : that we may rejoice to have a Pontiff pleasing in the sight of Thy majesty to be the governor of our holy mother the Church.  Through Christ our Lord.  Amen.

Make us, O Lord, to rejoice in the wondrous grace of Thy majesty :  that we may obtain a Pontiff meet to instruct Thy people in all godliness, and  pour forth upon the minds of Thy faithful the savour of spiritual sweetness.  Who livest and reignest.  Amen.

[Adapted from the propers of the Votive Mass For the Election of a Pope,

as given in the English Missal, 1933 edition.]

The Twenty-Ninth of May -- Oak Apple Day

I was about to make this the 4th or 5th time I've republished the same text about this great day.  But it's getting late  -  so I will instead cite you to last year's post here.

If it's late for you too and you've no mind to go clicking about the net you might at least want to have a listen to a sprightly little tune of the same name.  Herewith:

Resisting The Thought Police- the Horror of Thought Crime

English Easter Traditions

 Delightful article in the latest number of The Spectator on forgotten English Easter traditions.  You can find it here.

Well, not entirely forgotten or there would be no article.  You may have to subscribe; not sure about that.  Sometimes with these things you can get a few articles a month without a subscription.  Give the link a click and see what happens.  It's a good read.  E.g.:

If you get up early enough on Easter morning, according to old English folklore, you might be lucky enough to see the sun dancing in the sky as it rises, rejoicing at the resurrection of Christ – although tradition also records that the devil usually manages to put a hill in front of the dancing sun to stop people seeing it.

Happy Easter with the Regina Cæli

Joy to Thee, O Queen of Heaven!  Alleluia!

He Whom thou wast meet to bear, Alleluia!

As  he promised, hath arisen!  Alleluia!

Pour for us to God thy prayer!  Alleluia!

V/  Rejoice and be glad, O Virgin Mary! Alleluia, Alleluia!

R/  For the Lord is risen indeed!  Alleluia, Allelua!

Let us pray:  O God, who by the Resurrection of Thy Son, our Lord Jesus Christ, hath given joy unto the world:  grant we beseech Thee, that we, being holpen by the Virgin Mary, His mother, may attain unto the joys of everlasting life;  through the same Christ our Lord.  Amen.

One-a-Penny, Two-a-Penny . . .

. . . Hot Cross buns!

And for the first time in a very, very long time a local market's bakery has some.  I bought some this very Good Friday afternoon.  If  you're local-ish and interested they were at Stater Brothers. 

(So why do I wait for a market to carry them instead of baking myself?  Well, it's like this.  I produce a quite nice loaf of Irish soda bread.  But my baking skills decrease rather precipitously after that.  The market is really the best choice.

Oremus

 

The Intellectual

(The temptation to borrow a term from the old American Spectator of years ago and call this post The Intellectualoids was almost irresistible.  But I  managed.)   

A paragraph from an article in this month's Chronicles entitled What's Wrong with the Intellectuals?

The social characteristics of the intellectual classes are alienation, aggressive secularism, progressive politics, and overweening self-confidence.  Intellectuals are remarkably monolithic in their values and politics.  They are also exceedingly socially uniform, notwithstanding their nearly unanimous embrace of the now-dominant rhetoric of diversity in American institutions.

In my only occasionally humble opinion, that paragraph from the article answers the question in a nutshell.  But there is much more and worth the read. 

Friday the 13th . . . .

. . . comes on a Tuesday this month.  So I trust you avoided breaking any ladders or walking under any black cats.  And remember, especially on an auspicious day like today: it's bad luck to be superstitious.

Never the less, it's been a pretty good day so far here at the  ancestral manse. Imber abiit, et recessit, at least for the moment.  More due over the weekend, so I'm told.  But in the meantime the sun is shining, God is in His heaven, and I've even given a thought to The Inn.   As you see.

  

More Epiphany

 If Hostis Herodes impie wasn't enough for the grand feast day,   here's something from The Inn of a dozen years ago taken originally from the Blessed Cardinal Schuster's Liber Sacramentorum, giving a history of the day that's in it:

Epiphany means “appearance” or “manifestation,” and among the Eastern Christians had originally the same significance as Christmas in Rome. It was the festival of the eternal Word, clothed in the flesh, revealing himself to mankind. Three different phases of this historical manifestation were especially venerated – viz., the adoration of the Magi at Bethlehem, the changing of the water into wine at Cana, and the baptism of Jesus in the Jordan.

In the East special emphasis was laid on the scene at the Jordan, when the Holy Ghost overshadowed the Saviour in the form of a dove, and the eternal Father proclaimed him from heaven as his beloved Son. From the time of St John, the Gnostic heresy attributed great importance to this episode on account of its christology, maintaining that only then was the divine nature united to the human nature of Jesus, to leave it again at the moment of his Crucifixion. That baptism was, therefore, according to the Gnostics, the true divine birth of Jesus; consequently it was celebrated by them with the greatest splendour. It was against this doctrine that St John wrote in his first Epistle: Hic venit (Jesus Christ) per aquam et sanguinem, non in aqua solum, sed in aqua et sanguine; – that is to say, Jesus came into the world as the Saviour and as the Son of God, and this not merely in the waters of the Jordan, but from the very moment of his Incarnation, when he took upon himself our human body and blood.

In all probability the Catholics, following the example of the Evangelist, wished from the first to set against the Gnostic baptismal manifestation the temporal birth at Bethlehem; hence the feast had a very complex signification, inasmuch as it was desired to retain also the Gospel dates of the baptism and of the marriage at Cana, relegating them, however, to a secondary place as being similar solemn and authentic manifestations of the divine nature of Jesus. At Rome, in an atmosphere extremely practical and altogether foreign to the mystic etherealism of the Eastern world, the historical recurrence of the Nativity of our Lord came to occupy so prominent a place in the popular mind that it is still the predominating idea throughout the whole of the Christmas Liturgy.

There was, it is true, some uncertainty regarding its date, which led to a partition of the festival. On the banks of the Tiber the feast of January 6 was anticipated by two weeks, to the greater honour of the Nativity; but the ancient Theophania retained its place, although deprived of its full significance, since the crib of Bethlehem, by its power of attraction, gave greater prominence to the Adoration of the Magi, at the expense of the original idea of the baptism in the Jordan.

It is probable that in the third century Rome was still faithfully following the primitive Eastern tradition and administering solemn baptism on the day of the Theophania . Hippolytus, in fact, delivered an address to the neophytes (Είς τά αγία Θεοφάνεια) just as in the very ancient Coptic Calendar in which today's feast is called dies baptismi sanctificati. In the time of St Gregory Nazianzen the Greeks named it the Feast of the Holy Lights – In Sancta Lumina-- because baptism constitutes the supernatural illumination of the soul.

The third commemoration assigned to today's feast is of the first miracle performed by our Lord at the marriage at Cana. It is reckoned among the manifestation of Christ because the Gospel miracles supply the visible proof of the divine nature of Jesus. St Paulinus of Nola and St Maximus of Turin draw attention to the three-fold aspect of the feast of the Epiphany in terms exactly similar to those which the Roman Church employs in the grand antiphon of the Office at dawn. Hodia coelesti Sponso juncta est ecclesia-- mystical nuptials typified by those of Cana-- quoniam in Jordano lavit Christus ejus crimina-- baptism for the remission of sins--currunt cum muneribus magi ad regales nuptias-- the Adoration of the divine Infant-- et ex aqua facto vino laetantur convivae-- the miracle of Cana.

That which surprises us is that these primitive features of the Eastern Epiphany feast are found to have penetrated more or less in Rome into the festival of December 25 itself, so much so that Pope Liberius (325-366), in a sermon delivered at St Peter's on Christmas Day, on the occasion when Marcellina, sister of St Ambrose, received from his hands the virginal veil, said to her, among other things: “Thou, O daughter, hast desired an excellent marriage. Thou seest what a multitude of people is here assembled for the birthday of thy Spouse, and no one of them all goes away unsatisfied. He indeed it is who, being invited to the wedding feast, changed the water into wine, and who with five loaves and two fishes fed four thousand men in the desert.”

The station at St Peter's is inspired by the same thought as that of Christmas Day. In Rome the greater festivals – always excepting the very lengthy ceremonies of the Easter baptism – are celebrated at the Pastor Ecclesiæ whose basilica is the sheepfold of the Roman flock. The Ordines Romani prescribed down to the thirteenth century that after Mass the Pope should put on his tiara and return on horse-back to the Lateran. Later on, however, the Pontiffs preferred to remain at the Vatican for the second Vespers also, at which they were present in a scarlet cope and wearing a golden mitre. The custom of the Pope himself celebrating the stational Mass on this day is witnessed to, down to the end of the fourteenth century, in the Ordo of Bishop Pietro Amelio of Sinigaglia, in which the sole exception to the rule is in the case of the Pontiff being prevented from officiating either by some malady or by the rigour of winter weather.

A collect:

O God, who by the leading of a star didst manifest Thy only-begotten Son to the Gentiles ; mercifully grant ; that we, which know Thee now by faith, may after this life have the fruition of Thy glorious Godhead.  Through the same our Lord Jesus Christ.   Amen.

Epiphania Domini, a.k.a., Twelfth Night, Little Christmas, and/or Women's Christmas

 

Why, impious Herod, vainly fear

That Christ the Saviour cometh here?

He takes not earthly realms away,

Who gives the crown that lasts for aye.

To greet His birth the Magi went,

Led by the star before them sent:

Call'd on by light, to Light they press'd,

And by their gifts their God confess'd.

In holy Jordan's purest wave,

The heav'nly Lamb vouchsaf'd to lave;

That He, to whom was sin unknown,

Might cleanse His people from their own.

New miracle of power divine!

The water reddens into wine:

He spake the word, and pour'd the wave

In other streams than nature gave.

All glory, Lord, to Thee we pay,

For Thine Epiphany today;

All glory, as is ever meet,

To Father and to Paraclete. Amen.

I love the old Evensong/Vespers hymn for Epiphany:  Why impious Herod, vainly fear that Christ the Saviour cometh here?  Lovely.   And before you ask, yes, I have failed to post anything for all the  Christmastide feasts until now the almost very end.   Health, don't you know.  Or more accurately, lack of same.   I move a lot slower these days and Mary depends on me more.  And so with one thing and another, there don't seem to be as many hours in the day as once there were.

What's that?  I forgot bone-laziness?  Well, that's pretty rude of you.  But I suppose, in all honesty, there's still a touch of that in play.  Fallen human nature abides . . . .

Early Sign You May Have a Cold Coming On:

 When in the market, for no apparent reason, you buy far more kleenex than you would normally need.

And believe me, as it happened,  I've really needed them.

By code isn't quite over just yet but I am a bit better now, thank you.

Sniff.

Mass Culture . . . .

 . . . which,  I suppose, The Inn might be if anyone other than I ever read it.  I mean, hardly "mass" culture when it's so local as to show up nowhere other than this very pc.  And now that I think about it, "culture" may be assuming facts not in evidence.

In any event, I've been attempting a clear-out of the files shelves desk entire office.  It is now clear that all those things I have been meaning to read later, maybe tomorrow . . . . well, it isn't going to happen.  I won't live long enough.  No terminal illness.  It's just that, as the psalmist says,  the days of our age are threescore years and ten; and though men be so strong that they come to fourscore years, * yet is their strength then but labour and sorrow; so soon passeth it away, and we are gone.  And in the meantime the office is assuming hazardous proportions.  The fire department would not approve.

So I've been reading rather more than is helpful in clearing-out.  Well, you do, don't you.  The March/April 2023 number of Touchstone, for instance.  So much good stuff.   F'rinstance:

I recall Gene Roddenberry stating, "Television exists for just one reason -- to sell you things."  Mass consumer culture is more than a vendor.  The range of its dynamics is greater than simply facilitating the transfer of wealth from consumer to merchant.  Mass culture is a principal venue for propaganda, seduction, illusion, and additions.

That, from Robert McTeigue's essay Resistance Writer.  And an even more powerful paragraph in the context of the essay than that excerpt shows.  And it's that sort of thing that makes clearing-out in the office so much more time consuming than clearing-out, say cans of soup past their sell-by date in the kitchen.

Back to work.

After thought:  Clear-out and clearing-out:  should they be hyphenated?  I can't make up my mind.  I  put them in and they look right.  But I can't find a rule on line and I don't know what I've done with my Fowler's.

Worth Remembering

 From the Commonitorium of St Vincent of  Lerins:

What then will the Catholic Christian do, if a small part of the Church has cut itself off from the communion of the universal Faith? The answer is sure. He will prefer the healthiness of the whole body to the morbid and corrupt limb. But what if some novel contagion tries to infect the whole Church, and not merely a tiny part of it? Then he will take care to cleave to antiquity, which cannot now be led astray by any deceit of novelty. What if in antiquity itself two or three men, or it may be a city, or even a whole province be detected in error? Then he will take the greatest care to prefer the decrees of the ancient General Councils, if there are such, to the irresponsible ignorance of a few men. But what if some error arises regarding which nothing of this sort is to be found? Then he must do his best to compare the opinions of the Fathers and inquire their meaning, provided always that, though they belonged to diverse times and places, they yet continued in the faith and communion of the one Catholic Church; and let them be teachers approved and outstanding. And whatever he shall find to have been held, approved and taught, not by one or two only but by all equally and with one consent, openly, frequently, and persistently, let him take this as to be held by him without the slightest hesitation.

Unconscionably pilfered - including the highlighting - from this morning's post on Fr Z's excellent blog which you can find here. 

18 October -- St Luke, Evangelist

I very much liked the collect for St Luke in the Ordinariate Office today.   In case you've misplaced your Daily Office book, here it is:

The Collect of the Day

ALMIGHTY God, who didst call Saint Luke, whose praise is in the Gospel, to be an Evangelist and physician of the soul: may it please thee; that, by the wholesome medicines of the doctrine delivered by him, all the diseases of our souls may be healed; through the merits of Jesus Christ thy Son our Lord, who liveth and reigneth with thee, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, ever one God, world without end.   Amen.

In My Mailbox This Morning

 One of the least profitable conferences hosted in Las Vegas was the 1986 gathering of the American Physical Society---hardly anyone gambled, presumably, because the physicists understood probability and statistics, and saw no benefit in gambling.

I don't gamble myself.  Nothing to do with statistics or probability.   It's not even virtue.  I'm just a really poor loser. 

So Much Good Sense in Such a Small Space

 

And at my back I always hear . . . .

. . . . time's winged chariot hurrying near.

Yesterday was the forty-third -- that's 43d -- anniversary of our wedding day.  We didn't do much.  Just pottered about, as is our wont.  Oh, and had a lovely meal from Baja Sonora.   The restaurant doesn't look like much from the outside.  But you'll be hard pressed to find a tastier Mexican dinner hereabouts. 

We share some -- most? -- of the aches and  pains that older flesh is heir to.  But one thing still puzzles me.  I got old all over.  But Mary just got the aches and pains; she still has the face of a young woman.   30 maybe?  I have no idea how she does that.   If I ever find out, I'll let you know.