Category Archives: |Ramble

Days: Good Friday

(Yes I am recycling. This is a copy of my Good Friday post from 2 years ago. I liked it so I am sharing all over again!)

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This day seems to be the forgotten holiday of the year. There is no lead-up to Good Friday. No frenzied fanfare of festivity. No elaborate feasts to plan and prepare. That is probably why I like this holiday the best.

Good Friday really is a day off from the bustle and hustle of the consumer world. No sales. Just time to contemplate the world. I am sitting here this morning with a second cup of coffee, watching the sun peak over the horizon. There is a slight mist on the roofs of the houses as the day slips from springtime chill to springtime warmth.

I have time to think. Let my brain play with words. Roofs. Rooves. I remember learning in school that the plural of roof was rooves. But now we use the american “roofs”. When did that change? The rule I learned was if it ends in ‘f’ or ‘fe’  then to make the plural you drop the “f” sound and writes “ves”.

dwarf to dwarves
elf to elves
hoof to hooves
knife to knives
leaf to leaves
life to lives
self to selves
wolf to wolves

Of course then there are words that ignore the rule anyway – like the plural of beef is not beeves. And the plural of proof is not prooves.

Ah English the language of rules, and long lists of exceptions to the rules! This is why English is such an exceptional language.

As you can see Good Friday is for getting diverted and contemplative. Mindless musing. The above was simply pointless stream of consciousness.  A raw slice of my brain straight up. I am full of trivia. Or full of something.

My favourite memory of Good Friday is from many many many years ago. I was in my early twenties. I was with some friends driving up to Midland, Ontario to find a very specific restaurant that served Lake Huron whitefish. Our friend and driver had heard the fish was incredibly fresh and delicious.

Now I don’t remember the restaurant name but I do think it was Henry’s Fish Restaurant. I’ve been back a few times so my memory may be muddled. And the fish is still worth the long drive!

But this memory isn’t about the destination. It is about the journey. That day was a foggy Good Friday. Dense white cotton fog slowing us down to well below the speed-limit. The trees and posts shadowy dark flickers flashing by us. The road shiny black and slick. There was no-one else on the road. Just us – some friends on a journey. Cocooned in our own reality.

In the back of the car was a book – Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance - and for me it was an incredible find. At that moment, in that space, that book and the message inside clicked with me. There are concepts in that book that I had no idea could actually exist! My friend – the driver of the car – saw me thumbing through the book and gave it to me.

From where I sit today I can see that same book looking at me from my shelves. It is bedraggled and stained and dog-eared. The book has survived the years – my friend the driver did not. He died later that year from leukemia. But on that Good Friday there was no leukemia darkening our thoughts. On that day we were full of life twenty-somethings on a road trip. Our driver was a big robust man full of life and zest – and by the fall of that year he was an anemic husk gasping for air in a hospital bed. He was much too young to die.

That Good Friday held no hint of the sadness waiting in our future. We laughed, we talked. The restaurant wasn’t open we arrived, so we walked the waterfront. We drank early morning beers (cans in bags – oh we were so clever!) by the lake, while we discussed philosophy and how we would change the world. By the time we had finished our exploration of Midland – the sun had burned away the morning fog.

The fish was indeed wonderful, and we promised that next year we would repeat the road-trip. We promised that this would become our Easter weekend ritual. I’ve been back since then – but the ritual never blossomed.

In the mid-afternoon sunshine we drove back the way we had come. No hurry to get anywhere, we stopped at used bookshops and curio stores along the way looking for old National Geographic magazines. And books on World War II history. Our own version of an Easter Egg hunt for those that no longer believed in the Easter Bunny.

Good Friday: A good day to remember how we have arrived at this moment in time. And to remember those who we loved and left behind.

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Days: Maundy Thursday

Today is Maundy Thursday. As I child I always heard that as Monday Thursday, and I often wondered how on earth could Thursday be Monday? Monday is the start of the week – and in some ways this Maundy is the start of Christianity.

What is Maundy Thursday? It is the Thursday before Easter, and the Christian celebration of the “Last Supper.” For those who aren’t aware the Last Supper is the pass-over meal that Christ celebrates with his followers before he is crucified. Because like all of Easter it is tied to the Lunar Calendar, it is a “movable feast” – meaning it is on a different day each year.

The Maundy refers to the ritual washing of feet that Jesus performs on that day as part of the meal. Maundy derives from that Latin word Mandatum. John 13:1–17 mentions Jesus performing this act.

“If I then, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also ought to wash one another’s feet. For I have given you an example, that you should do as I have done to you. Most assuredly, I say to you, a servant is not greater than his master; nor is he who is sent greater than he who sent him. If you know these things, blessed are you if you do them.”

This day is about understanding the Christian mysteries of the faith. The symbolic transmutation of wine into blood; and of bread into the body. The understanding that those that have the power and privilege, need to use that power and privilege for the betterment of others.

This day is the celebration and contemplation of the foundational beliefs of Christianity. We are all here to help one another, and make this world a better place for each other. Christianity at its most basic is about love for one another, and about respect for everyone.

Ramble: Watching the Traffic

The great thing about blogging is one can watch the traffic moving through the site. The ebbs and flows of readers wandering past what one has written. Overall, I really don’t get overly obsessed about what I am writing and who is reading. At least not like I did the first few months of blogging on WordPress.

When I first started my WordPress blog I became addicted to the traffic counts and the endorphin rush of “Likes”. ~OH GOD THEY LIKE ME!~

But I am over that now. Mostly. Somewhat.

Generally I get a steady stream of about 60 views per day. And since I don’t actively try and force that number that is really quite amazingly good! Thanks folks! From the search traffic it would appear about half my daily traffic is from search results sending people my way. My tagging is working!

What I do find puzzling is what gets “Liked” and what doesn’t! So today I posted POEM: Preamble in honour of National Poetry Month. It currently has 11 likes already. For me to get that many Likes in one day on any post I write is phenomenal! But the question is why?

It isn’t really that important a question or that compelling a puzzle – just one of those things that occasionally tweaks my brain and makes me go “huh – wonder why that might be?”

Oh and for those that are curious – I actually do not own a dog. That is all fiction.

Wisdom 101: How to Make a Woman Like You.

Come close now ye young men, you lonely men, you single men, you older men. Come near. Huddle close – but not too close so that one might mistake us for comrades enjoying camaraderie.

You may fist-bump if you chose to engage in touching activities. But I would ask you to restrain yourself from further acts of frolicsome joy.

Ahh yes you ask what is the secret to a woman’s heart? Well that I cannot tell you. Being a social reject myself I have obviously not quite fathomed the plumbing of the fairer sex to such depths. What? OH no no – I don’t mean to say I have never plumbed. Plumbing I have done. And quite robustly I might add in my younger days. In fact I think I was quite the winsome plumber back in the day. But I digress in melancholy wistful memories of many decades  back in time.

Ahh yes plumbing. <SIGH>

OH right sorry I was distracted by well-preserved happy thoughts. Now I was going explain one of the great questions of every male who has ever had been smitten by the fluidity and grace of a female. And I am referring to humans in both instances.

How on earth do you Make a Woman Like You. Well good sirs…oh and the occasionally lady I see reading this – you too want to know the answer? Well this then is the answer. I will say it clearly when I get to it. It is actually quite simple.

You can not. Ever. Make. A woman like you. This actually goes beyond women. You can not. Ever. Make. Anyone like you. It is simply impossible to Make someone have feelings for you. The feelings they have are the ones they have. If they like you, they like you.

Now by persisting and insisting and demanding and wheedling and whining you can be guaranteed to make a woman NOT LIKE you. And again that applies beyond women. Just back off. Ease away. Step back. Stop.

What you want to do is find out if the other person actually likes you. Maybe even enjoys your company. This is much easier than making them like you (which I pointed out is impossible). So how do you tell if someone likes you?

Why it is obvious! Listen closely this is what you do: you simply ask.

Yes I know it is hard to ask – but the concept is easy isn’t it? You can start small – like ask how her day is going. Ask what she has planned for the weekend. Ask if she would like to do that something with you.

Ta-da. You are now blessed with some wisdom. See that was actually quite simple wasn’t it?  Go now – enjoy life.

I will sit here and enjoy the silence.

 

April: National Poetry Month

How on earth did I forget this?

I have been so busy with my daily posting on days and the occasional poems – that I missed that this is National Poetry Month. A month long celebration of poems, poetics and poets.

“National Poetry Month is a month-long, national celebration of poetry established by the Academy of American Poets. The concept is to widen the attention of individuals and the media—to the art of poetry, to living poets, to our complex poetic heritage, and to poetry books and journals of wide aesthetic range and concern. We hope to increase the visibility and availability of poetry in popular culture while acknowledging and celebrating poetry’s ability to sustain itself in the many places where it is practiced and appreciated.”

I had better get cracking and write some poems now!