lent

Markham over at The Big Drought has his own dilemma about the upcoming season of lent but offers this observation: And we now celebrate our murderous return to gluttony with eggs made entirely of chocolate. We eat so much that it's the third day before we can rise again. Lent lingers on, though. Nowadays, we paragons of fastidiousness give something hugely critical up every year, like jam doughnuts or caviar. Martyrs, we are. How do we do it?

centerfield

My daughter is doing a report on the history of the NY Yankees and the question came up about Babe Ruth's legendary centerfield point of the finger and whether or not a photo exists. I asked our local Sports Gurus at the BfloBlog and here is Kevin's most helpful response: Long story short. You can’t find an actual photograph because it never happened. Even those most sympathetic to the Ruthian legend concede that at best, he called his shot by pointing into the Cubs dugout and saying “It only takes one to hit it.” The best I can do for you is an article that's been around forever by Shirley Povich, a deceased Washington Post columnist who was at the game covering it: His quote: And so he did in the memorable third World Series game of 1932 in Wrigley Field when the legend of the "Called Shot" was born. The story went that Ruth, angered that the Cubs gave ex-Yankee Mark Koenig a miserly cut of the World Series money, deliberately pointed to a spot in right-center, thus telling pitcher Charlie Root he'd hit one out there. Ruth did, and the "Called Shot" became famous. Not with me. I count myself as a reasonably accurate reporter, and having covered that game, I later re-read my account of it and there was no mention of a called shot. Neither did the Associated Press nor the Chicago papers mention anything about it. The only mention I could find was far down in the New York Times story, which mentioned that Ruth pointed at Root but gave only a vague reason why. Years later, during World War II, Lt. Commander Bill Dickey, my housemate at Pearl Harbor, laid the story to rest for me after I asked him about the so-called "Called Shot." Dickey said, "Why spoil a good myth?" This review of a Red Smith book may help: Anyway, the Ruthian legend is fabulous. Consider how distorted the legend of one of the greatest ballplayers ever m ust be 70 years later, with very little video available to break those myths. Back then the NY media was very close to the Yankees, and coverage of the Babe was always meant to build his legend. Legendary indeed.

Happy Polar Bear Day

Polar bears are the world's largest land carnivore. A male stands between eight and nine feet tall and weighs between 750 and 1400 pounds. They only live in the circumpolar North, and there are five countries where they are found: U. S. (Alaska), Canada, Russia, Denmark (Greenland), and Norway.

pic of distinction

After catching this author on C-SPAN I've got my next non-fiction,non-academic related read lined up. Finally a book that deals with the polarized, name-calling garbage that political discussion has morphed into over the last decade.

Jen has reviewed a charming little book called Get Serious about Getting Married:365 Ways to Find Love in Less than a Year. Seriously.Scary.Shit.All Things Jen(nifer)

Pink's not stupid

It's a bit depressing that there are too few voices out there speaking to young girls about feminine imagery in the media. Pink is using her celebrity to reinforce an alternative to the mainstream consciousness. Good for her.Meanwhile, Beyonce hasn't missed a beat...

A wish for those in love

St Valentine's Eve

better find a bay leaf...Valentine’s Eve in olde England was one of a number of nights throughout the year on which prognostications would be made in order to discover when one would find a lover, and who that lover would be. An English practice of the mid-eighteenth century was for a girl to gather five bay-leaves. One was pinned to each of the four corners of the girl's pillow, and one in the middle. If she dreamed of her sweetheart she would be married before the year was out. To make it more sure, and the dream presumably more vivid, the girl would hard-boil an egg, take out the yolk, fill it with salt, and eat it shell and all at bedtime, without speaking or drinking after it. Another custom for tonight was for a girl to write potential lovers' names on bits of paper, roll them up in clay, and put them into water: the first that rose up was to be the valentine. In Norwich, England, this night was kept as a time for gift giving. Boxes of gifts would be left anonymously on the doorsteps of loved ones. Sometimes a box would say “With care – this side upwards”, and when the lady opened it, little boys would jump out calling a Valentine's greeting. One trick was to place a mock parcel on the doorstep, which would disappear when the door was opened, as it was hoisted up on strings. Parcels-within-parcels were also left, that at the end revealed a motto such as “Happy is he who expects nothing, and he will not be disappointed”.

ah Sunday...

Là Fhéill Bhrìghde

“Oh the blessing of Brìd on the child of my heart” —Scottish LullabyHappy Imbolc~ light a candle or 10 and think Spring! I named my daughter after Brighid, the goddess/saint of fire, song, poetry and fertility so this day holds special meaning for me to say the least. February 1 is the feast of St. Brigid, often called the Mary of the Gael, and her feast day, along with that of St Patrick, and Our Lady of Knock, are the official holy days of the Ancient Order of Hibernians, who gather annually for a Mass in her honor. St. Brigid’s life was a remarkable one, and the places in Ireland, associated with her, are scenes of pilgrimage throughout the year. She was born in a society ruled by the old Gaelic Order and the Druidic religion. St. Patrick had already reached Ireland, and was in the process of changing all that, but though his message had reached the court of Dubhtach, the powerful Leinster Chieftain held firm to the old religion. In his religion, one of the most powerful Goddesses was Brid or Brigid, the Goddess of Fire whose manifestations were song and poetry, which the Celts considered the flame of knowledge. Her feast day was the first festival of the year and was held on February 1. It was the beginning of Spring; the working season for farmers and fishermen, and a time of husbanding of animals, and the Celts called on Brid to bless their work, and bonfires were lit in her honor. Patrick did not condemn the Celts as idolatrous pagans, but explained their druidic customs in Christian terms, and gradually, Bible heroes and Christian saints began to replace the Celtic Gods and Goddesses on the Irish calendar. However, the personalities of some of the Celtic deities was so strong that they could not be replaced; one of these was Brid, and the rites associated with her continued to be practiced each February 1 right into Christian times. But that was soon to change. At about 453 AD, a child was born out of wedlock between Dubhtach and one of his Christian slaves named Brocessa. The slave girl was sent to a cabin at the foot of the Cooley Mountains near Dundalk, Co Louth, to have the child. The baby was a healthy girl, which was no great joy to Dubhtach who wanted a son. The mother was sold to a Chieftain in Connaught, and the child was given to a Druid to be raised and educated. The child was named Brigid, perhaps to seek the blessing of the Goddess, for from the very beginning, there were indications that she was special. It was reported that she was born at sunrise, and that the cottage in which she was born burst into flame when she left it. Brigid grew in beauty, and her love for all of God's creatures knew no bounds. After her fosterage, she returned to her father's house as a slave, although she enjoyed the privileges of family. She was given to solitude, and loved to wander the woods befriending the animals. She was renowned for her generosity, giving much of her father's wealth away to the poor. Many are the stories attributed to this remarkable lady, including her journey on foot from Leinster to Connaught to find her mother, whom she freed from bondage, and returned to the house of Dubhtach. In keeping with the life planned for her, she became a vestal virgin in service to the Goddess Brid, and eventually high priestess at the Kil Dara (the temple of the oak), a pagan sanctuary built from the wood of a tree sacred to the Druids. There she and her companions kept a perpetual ritual fire, in honor of Brid. The exact circumstance of her conversion to Christianity are unknown, though it is certain that her Christian mother was a guiding influence. Some claim that she personally met St Patrick, which is possible since she was ten years old before he died, but there is no proof of that. Whatever the circumstances, Brigid and her companions in service to Brid, all accepted the Christian faith, and formed Ireland’s first Christian religious community of women. Legend tells that upon her acceptance of her vows, fire appeared above her head. Brigid changed the pagan sanctuary of Kil Dara into a Christian shrine, which gave its name to the present County Kildare. She extinguished the ritual fire of the Druids, and lit a flame dedicated to Christ which was thereafter maintained by her followers until it was doused by the forces of Henry VIII. Brigid’s wisdom and generosity became legend, and people traveled from all over the country to share her wisdom. Her monastery at Kildare became one of the greatest centers of learning in Europe. She continued her holy and charitable work until her death in 525 AD, when she was laid to rest in a jeweled casket at Kil Dara. In 835, her remains were moved to protect them from Norse invaders, and interred in the same grave that holds the remains of St Patrick and St Columcille at Downpatrick. So strong was the respect and reverence for this holy lady that she became the patroness of parishes, towns, and counties, not only in Ireland, but all across Europe. During the age of Chivalry, she was so revered as a model for women of every age, that gentlemen, knights, and nobles began the custom of calling their sweethearts, their Brides - a custom that has come down to this very day. In Ireland, the people likened her to Brid, the ancient Goddess of fire and wisdom - for wasn’t Brigid’s life touched with fire, and as for her wisdom - that was undisputed. She even had a symbol. As the shamrock became associated with St Patrick, a tiny cross made of rushes was linked with St Brigid. Supposedly woven by her to explain the passion of Christ to a dying pagan, similar crosses are fashioned to this day as a defense against harm, and placed in the rafters of a cottage on the feast day of St Brigid - February 1. So it was that reverence for this holy child of Ireland grew so strong that she not only eclipsed Brid, for whom she was named, but was given her feast day. And the Irish gladly accepted their new saint, and revere her to this day in place of a forgotten Celtic Goddess.~Mike McCormackStand ye in the ways, and see, and ask for the old paths, where is the good way, and walk therein, and ye shall find rest for your souls. Jer.6:16