Denial

The biggest case of denial that can be readily diagnosed right now in the United States, is the denial of left-wing liberals and the entire Democratic party.

Everywhere you look, on whatever news channel, there is disbelief, and outrage, unfounded fear, and denial. They simply cannot believe that this happened.

Why? Do liberals think they are the only people living in the US? Apparently so. They do not seem to realize that Mrs. Clinton won the popular vote by a mere .3%. Less than 1%! So their claim that the country has somehow lost out on the candidate the people want is straight up ridiculous! But the left will never accept this because that would mean that their liberal agenda did not make the home run they thought they had hit. In fact it wasn't even close. And they can't stand the reality of that, the failure. They cannot comprehend the fact that virtually half of American voters still have morals, and at least a vague idea of right and wrong. At the same time, they are in denial about the fact that, while Republicans had pretty much a terrible candidate, they nominated the worst possible candidate they ever could have, probably the worst in American history so far. She was under investigation for crying out loud! Who cares what her policies are! She is probably a crook! I don't think the American public is very eager yet to discredit FBI investigations. Sorry guys.

Even with all this, even knowing that the left has been so badly beaten that they are in denial, I, at least, am having a hard time celebrating. I am still terrified of what they will do to discredit Trump's time as president. And let's face it, a little terrified that Trump will completely screw up.

At least for now, those who still believe in God in this country have a little more time to prepare for what's coming. Because it will come. The devil is not happy right now, I am sure; he wanted Hillary up there. But hopefully Trump as the president, is God working in mysterious ways. That is what we need to believe and pray for right now.

Here's to a republican house and senate!

A Few Thoughts on America's Liberal Modernist Progressivism

Now that is a mouthful - "Liberal Modernist Progressivism" - but it is a mouthful that needs to be stated more often than it is. Last night's election started me thinking about what it is about the majority of the democratic party that leaves me so absolutely in despair. What precisely about America's Liberal Modernist Progressivism has driven those people in our country with some morals left, to unite against a common evil? Didn't it seem like all was lost? That Hillary's progressive agenda had gained enough momentum to sail away with the white house in tow for at least the next four years?

I think there are a couple of reasons why not everyone was duped by the "tolerance" agenda of the democrats. One is that Christians who understand tolerance to mean virtually charity in religion speak, are starting to realize that tolerance for liberals actually means "acceptance". Lately, I have been wondering why the left's tolerance bothered me so much; I had always understood the idea of it to be essentially a very Catholic one centered around Charity, and the old adage "love the sinner, hate the sin". Well, I was wrong about that in the first place, since tolerance would be better represented by "love the sinner, allow him to sin". But the left has taken its creed even further than that. In fact, liberals, especially young millennial liberals, have kept on preaching laws of tolerance, when what they really mean is acceptance. If LGBTQs just wanted regular old people to tolerate them, then they wouldn't be making half such a stink about their rights! What they want is for the public to accept them, even to endorse them.

All the leftist talk about tolerance is crap, even to them. It is a very bad cover for the agenda of forcing evil on the world. That is the devil's agenda, and he will enforce it through the selfish modernist's mindset of tolerance. There are many people who preach leftist views and really mean well. They have been deceived not just by their own desire to do evil, but by a targeted attack on their belief that evil can even exist. It used to be that taking the life of a child was one of the worst evils one could conceive of. Now this is everyday talk. Evil has become not only legal, but commonplace. America's Liberal Modern Progressivism has erased the idea of evil from the minds of its subjects.

Not believing in evil is like not believing in night. If there is day, there must be night. If there is good there must be evil. You cannot have one without the other. If evil did not exist the word good would be redundant. Useless.

Last night gave me a little hope, not really for our country, but more for all those people who are learning to accept evil as normal. It seems that there are more people out there who can still think straight than any of us thought. They were just too cowed by the democratic attitude to come out and say it; and I suppose that turned out to be a good thing!

Reading the Quran in my Lit. Class

          So for Western Lit. this past week, we had to read the New Testament and the Quran, and watch a couple of videos about Islam. I have to say it was pretty interesting, and also very weird, as the history of Islam is just very odd, and not at all what I expected.
          Anyway this post is not really about that; you can all go read about the history yourself. What its really about is the very interesting conversation that occurred in our actual class. Actually its not really about that either. Its really only related to one tiny small part of that conversation.
          At one point the conversation was focusing on the violence, and how the religion from the very beginning was intended to be a very political one. Then someone brought up the Crusades and the Inquisition, and how the Catholic Church was so violent and cruel too. I guess that's supposed to be a good excuse for violently decapitating Christians in the streets today??? Anyways, of course I wanted to freak out and argue and tell them how they don't know anything about history.
          I also really wanted to bring up the Protestant reformation and how Elizabeth the 1st brutally killed millions of Catholics. But don't worry I knew that was a really bad argument, and anyway that is not the real problem with their argument.
         Which is what this essay (?) is really supposed to be about. Yes, the Crusades did happen. But one can never understand why, until he realizes that the Catholic monarchs were defending their civilization and culture from a threatening cult that wanted to take over everything. Nowadays wars are fought only for money, when it comes down to it. And people simply can't wrap their head around the duty to defend a culture, and to protect it from an opposing one. Whether that is because there simply is no culture in America, or because they don't want to admit that there can be a correct culture, I don't know. Probably its a combination of both.
          Humans living now have no concept of what it means to share a religion that all believe is the truth. If they did, they would want to protect themselves from the destruction of that truth. They cannot understand the concept of absolute truth, while I cannot understand trying to live without it. Where they see necessity for tolerance, or more like acceptance, I see necessity for laws. Where they have made the base desires of man the law, we Catholics make the desires of God the law.
          When it comes down to it, modernism has already fixed its vice grip on humanity. The only one who can save it is Our Lady's Immaculate Heart, because she is the only one who can convince our Lord to have mercy on so corrupt a nation.
          I am no longer afraid of conversations that might be difficult, or classes that might challenge my beliefs. (Not that my teacher challenges; oh no, he is very tolerant of, well, everything.) They cannot hurt me because they have no knowledge, and because I know that there is no point to arguing, since we share no beliefs in common, and therefore cannot really have an argument. I am finally starting to get that. It doesn't matter what people say to try and make me mad, or to try and throw mud at the Church, because it just simply isn't true. At the same time, they will never be able to see my point of view, because they probably don't believe in God, let alone the authority of the Church.
          The only way I can make any difference is by example, which will hopefully catch their attention and curiosity, and thus opens their minds. And the only way to have the strength to stand by example is to pray for it.
          So lets do it together and all say one Hail Mary right now!

Britt's Photos; my Food (and weird looking hands)

          So, I have a problem about my life that I don't know how to solve. I love food: I love everything about it. I love cooking and baking, reading recipes and food books and food magazines. I love smelling it, and studying it, and above all, I love eating it (more on that later). It seems obvious that I would choose a career that involves it in a big way. But almost all the career choices a food geek has inevitably mean a sucky lifestyle. The annoying part is, when I decided I didn't have the stamina to make a career in music, and when pain officially closed that door, I discovered that food was my other passion; Yay!, right? I mean, that gives me a plan for my life right? Actually not. Because the options of jobs in the food industry are extremely limited.
         So that is my life problem. I still don't know how to fix it, or what I am doing next year.
         But one thing is for sure, taking the photos to come was an absolute blast, and I wish all of you people who read this (who am I kidding) could taste the result.
          Pop over to Brittany's Website to see more of her awesome work. She is a fantastic, adventurous, versatile and personable photographer. She is a great friend and an amazing woman.
          So without further ado, enjoy these snapshots of food in the process of being made.

 (I am going to forgo captions for now, just because, I am not a very funny person, so I don't really see the point. I'll just say, these are all taken at my parents gorgeous house, where I still abide.)

And the pizza monkey bread is finished and ready to dive into, with some doctored up tomato sauce, and coleslaw (not interesting enough to picture).
We wandered outside after dinner into the gorgeous summer sunshine, where our family animals kindly obliged the photographer with these amazing poses. Oh, and just for good measure, there is a pic of my little sis Liv too.

those eyes........

Conclusion: yes, there was wine involved in that evening (wine is always a good idea), and an amazing food movie called Burnt to finish it off.
Thank God for all my completely undeserved friends that put up with me.
If one of you reads this, pat yourself on the back.
(thanks britt)

22 Days Later......

       ......and I have not been able, in all that time, to summon up the brain activity and will power to get myself to post on this blog.
          So I choose now, at a time when I am waiting to leave, when I have nothing better to do, and when I feel quite useless.
          I should probably be doing homework, but I know that I will be doing much of that later today. So there is not much incentive. Plus, most of my assignments will take a while, and I am not really the type of person to do a little bit of something, and then come back to it- mostly because when I do do that, I end up completely restarting. So what's the point?
          I was supposed to write this super insightful and interesting post titled Millenials and Entitlement. But who cares about my biased, tired and pessimistic opinion? The answer is: no one. And that is ok. Because I need to realize that my life isn't about me; its about everyone else. Everyone I come in contact with and have friendships with, everyone who is affected by something I say or do, whether I am aware of it or not. And that is probably a lot more insightful and soul-searching that any shpeel I could come up with, whether or not it is relevant and accurate.
          Right now, the only thing in daily life that I am concerned about is that I have to do this violin workshop for a few of Dad's kids at his school. And I have no idea what I am going to do. Like at all. Its scary. What if all the kids start acting out because they are bored? So that is kind of stressful.
          In the meantime I am actually going to prepare a post which will be mostly pictures taken by a dear friend Brittany Barb. Go check her out at Brittany Long. She took some gorgeous photos of me making pizza monkey bread. (Yes that is as amazing as it sounds.) I had wanted to do food pics for a long time (as food is basically my biggest obsession). Britt kindly agreed to do them with me. I have some work to do as far as figuring out a more interesting to photograph item, and timing the sprinkling of delicious herbs so that it looks awesome, but all of that is to come.
Food is simply absolutely exciting in every way, and hopefully the photos to come tomorrow will wet your appetite!

sophie

The Problem of Texting

          I should probably start with a caveat to this post. I understand that there are way bigger problems in the world than texting. But I am choosing to talk about texting because it is the thing that has the biggest effect on my circle and the lives of the people around me as far as technology goes. And because I have a personal beef with texting which you, the reader, will soon find out about. (Btw, I am amazed that only 15 days have gone by since I last posted :)
        I recently had a conversation with a very good friend that was very enlightening and interesting for me (I am not sure how she felt about it :), and during that conversation the topic of texting came up. I am not sure how, but it did. I basically was saying how much I hate texting, and our discussion eventually led me to realize what it is really that I hate about it. So here goes the big reveal: I hate texting because it created the needs that it fulfills.
        So here is my argument: the big push for texting is that it is faster than a phone call. (ok, five more seconds is really gonna ruin your day? really?) Regardless, that need for something faster than a phone call simply didn't exist before texting said, "Hey, I can get a thought to someone faster than a phone call. Won't that make your life easier?" And the world replied "Yes!!". But the joke was on the world, because that extra five seconds just made their lives harder by making them faster and faster and full of more and more things.
          But my argument really has nothing to do with the American "do more do more do it faster" mindset. It has to do with the fact that before texting was around no one had the need to tell someone they would be there in five minutes. Now, because you have the option, you feel compelled to tell someone you'll be there in two minutes. There is no reason behind it. You just have to.
          So then my question is: why don't you just call? Isn't it actually faster to press call than to type a bunch of text into a little box? Yes, it is faster!! I can prove it to you right now!! So why?? Why do we have to type it??
          Here are some classic answers: Their phone might be off so they will probably not answer anyway. (To that I reply: then why do you need to tell them something if they don't want or can't talk to you?) Another answer: His or her work is loud so they can't here their phone ringing, so its better to text. (My answer: Wait until they can hear their phone ringing and call them. Or leave a message). My point is that before texting, if someone had a loud job and couldn't answer their phone, you had to wait and call them when you knew they were on a break, or you had to leave a message. But texting created the possibility of leaving a message for them on a screen so that they wouldn't have to take the extra ten seconds to listen to a voicemail.
          Nobody asked for that. Nobody said: Wow, leaving a message is such a time waster, I really need something that gets rid of those 20 seconds of wasted time. Nobody asked for that!! Really!!! Texting created the need!! It created the need for constant connection (not constant communication. constant connection).
          It used to be that people didn't need to verify meeting times 20 minutes or 20 seconds before they were supposed to happen. Now that has become the norm. And if there is no response they assume you are not going to show up. What if you were just having a conversation with someone on the subway instead of looking at your phone? God forbid! Texting has created the need to be near one's phone all the time, just in case of a message. No one needed to do that before. Now all of a sudden it is a necessity of life (and yes that was all of the sudden compared to thousands of years; no one can argue that.)
          I could come up with dozens of scenarios that texting has created, but what is the point? Plus I have probably already bored to tears whoever is reading this, and should cut it short. My main beef is that texting created the market for its necessity, and duped an entire continent or two in the process.

Don't even get me started on fb.!!!!!
Peace out.
sophie

What Does Immaculate Mean?

  On the Feast of the Immaculate Heart of Mary that was celebrated yesterday, the priest celebrating mass gave a very helpful and interesting sermon, so here goes with what I remember and have taken away from it.
   Father asked us to consider that when Mary was born she was already as holy as the holiest saint. Her immaculate state even at the moment of conception earned her the highest place in heaven. It is clear that in the religious sense of the word, we place Holy and Immaculate on the same plane. However, immaculate has more of an idea of purity and perfection in it, while holiness refers really to a being's closeness with God. So Mary's purity and perfection, what I will call her holiness, was at least equal to that of the greatest saint at her birth. And it has been increasing infinitely since then. That is a lot of merit and grace that she in her generosity has offered to share with us in so many ways.
   But this feast specifically refers to the Immaculateness of her Heart. What is so special about the heart? This is not in reference to the heart beating in Mary's body, neither is that the reference that humans mean when they say that someone has a good heart. Heart in this case refers to that area of the soul that is not covered by reason and will. Reason and will are the two areas of the human soul that we usually consider in any discussion of man's intangible attributes. Often we forget that the heart is a vital third aspect of our humanity. After some thought I have decided this: In every choice in one's life his will dictates the what, his reason dictates the why and his heart dictates the how. As Father was talking about the heart being a part of the soul, I was trying to decide what aspect of human decisions it corresponded with, and that is what I came up with. And I think we will all agree that most of human life is basically just a bunch of decisions all in a row.
    So if the heart dictates the how of something that we intend to do, we could almost in a sense say that it is the most important aspect of the soul, just like St. Paul said that Charity is the most important of the three theological virtues. It seems almost backwards at first, but only because reason and will (or hope and faith) really occur in the soul before the heart comes into play (or charity). In other words, a child can think and demand things long before he can consciously love or use his heart to decide how he is going to do something. It is also true that in order to use his heart he must first use his reason. Just as in order to be charitable, we must first have faith.
    All this from a simple sermon on the Immaculate. That is what critical and valuable thinking is all about. It is hard to remind myself of that sometimes.

Omelette

Dear Friends,

Today I share with you my directions for a pretty darn good omelette, if I do say so myself. However, I did eat it on a very emotional morning (today), that was marked by lots of tears and confusion. I am happy to say that there is a little bit of clarity coming on now, and less sadness. But I have reminded myself that this is a blog and not a diary, so that is all I will say; because this post is all about the omelette.
My suggestion for a perfect omelette is: you need a non stick pan. A real one. Otherwise I am at the level where I cannot guarantee that it will not stick.
Also, if you are any kind of serious home cook, invest in a good non stick pan. It will change your life.
Alright that is all I need to say I think.
Directions:
Heat 8 or 10 inch non stick skillet.
Dice finely: 1/4 cup each white onion and any color bell pepper
Add 1 tblsp butter to skillet
Allow to melt
Add vegetables and brown them. Give them a good dose of salt and pepper.
Once the veggies have a good sear, turn heat to medium-low and cook them until soft.

While veggies cook, whisk 3 eggs together in a bowl with a fork till just combined.
Grate a few tblsps of good cheddar cheese, or any cheese you wish that melts well.

Once veggies are soft, remove from pan.
Turn heat to lowest setting.
Add another tblsp of butter to the pan.
Pour in the eggs without stirring at all.
Make a couple of lines in the eggs with a rubber spatula, and tilt pan to allow raw egg to fill the hole.
Repeat this step 2 times more, until eggs are almost entirely cooked.
Sprinkle uncooked side with a little salt and pepper
Using a long spatula, lift the omelette and carefully flip over. It does not have to be perfect, just make sure there is enough surface area to fold the omelette in half.
Immediately remove from heat.

Layer cooked veggies over half of the egg surface area. Sprinkle with 3/4 of your grated cheese.
Fold the other half of the omelette over the veggies and cheese with a spatula.
Sprinkle top of omelette with remaining cheese.

Eh, Voila!! Serve immediately, preferably with toast and avocados. :)

If anyone is reading this and does make this recipe, please comment and tell me how it goes, and how bad or good my directions are!!

Sucker Punch

        I thought I knew to a certain degree what this phrase really means, especially after watching that Castle episode of the same name. But then a moment happened yesterday that truly was a sucker punch right where it hurts the most. And it felt horrible. And I was in a car with a bunch of other people, and couldn't have really explained why I needed to sob right now. So I just looked out the window and tried to hold back the tears. A few escaped, but since I had/have a horrible headache, no one noticed anything odd. We were listening to a cd, and a song came on that had a very specific connection to someone who basically is dead to me, who meant a lot. And it was so unexpected, because I had completely forgotten about that memory and it all just came flooding back in one big sucker punch. Now I feel like I actually am starting to understand what that really means. There is just no air, only gasping.
        It makes me a little bit sad to realize how year after year, I have less and less desire to celebrate the 4th of july But this year I decided it is also true that without this day, we probably would not be in Idaho, and I probably would not have my awesome family, so that makes me want to at least Thank God for that.

Catalysts

          That first paycheck felt really good, especially since I am going to pay my loan off after posting. I am eating French Silk Pie, the Cook's Country recipe, and it is so good.
          Brittany is expecting. For some reason it makes me so happy to think about, I guess because she is the first close friend who has had a baby. Well, who will have a baby, God willing. It reminds me of how much I have to be thankful for. When I think of all the people who are burning their children and throwing them in the trash, of how miserable I could be, if I did not have such amazing parents. It is a depressing thought, but also extremely uplifting. There is so much that I have that a fraction of people in the world have. It was not an exaggeration when the children of Fatima said that souls were falling into hell like snowflakes. I look around me at all the blank faces that have no joy in them, because they have no grace. I can be sad about the reality of this bleak world, but I have to be happy for those blank faces and try to inspire them to think on something eternal, even if for a moment. And I have to be joyful for myself. Every moment that i can I have to say thank you to Him for every grace and every happy moment. Most importantly for my family. They are the rock I stand on, sitting steady in the earth that is Christ.
        

Time Flies

      I cannot believe it is already the end of June! This month flew by. I am sitting on my bed on a gorgeous sunny Sunday. Father gave his sermon on the compassion of the Sacred Heart. It was a great pick me up for the end of June. Feast of St. Peter and Paul on Wednesday!! Sadly I probably won't be able to go to mass, as I have to go to the dentist that morning. Ugh.
     So of course, right when I get in a sort of groove of exercising and blogging and getting my life together, I have to work two double shifts two days in a row, and the whole great plan, and attitude completely goes out the window. But thankfully I think I have been able to bounce back. I just got back from a run, and it went even better than the last one. And after I finish this post, I am going to tackle a bit of yoga I think.
       My sister has gone and done a horrible thing, and become addicted to Downton Abbey. Anyone who reads this take it as a warning! Avoid this mistake at all costs! Psyche is bad enough!
       I am off to work tonight as a favor for a coworker, and for once, even though it is Sunday, I am actually kind of looking forward to it! I don't know why. Probably because I really don't have anything better to do, and I am getting my first paycheck tomorrow.
       To conclude, I leave this blog with the pasta recipe that I made for a friend's wedding. I personally catered it, and it was a great experience and turned out awesome!

Heat: 1 cup cream and 1 cup milk over low to medium heat
Turn heat to low
Add: 2 cups good quality parmesan cheese
Wait till it melts, whisking carefully
Add: 1 tblsp. all purpose flour.
Whisk until all lumps are gone
Take off the heat
Add: 1 tsp chili flakes ( or any amount you prefer )
1/4 cup rinsed sundried tomatoes
1 tsp garlic powder
lots of salt and pepper

Mix with one pound cooked pasta and enjoy!! Feel free to add chicken or sausage!
This is my own personal recipe, so please refer people to this blog if you want to share!

Summer Starts

          Something I have realized in the past couple of days: whenever someone makes a bad life decision, it is usually those closest to them, and not the actual person, who get hurt the most. This is a conviction that has sprung simply from personal experience on both sides of the matter. And once I realized it, it made me really want to not do anything stupid that will make others feel worse than me.
          There are times when no one can fix a hurt that is inside you, when there is no one you can talk to who will understand why you just want to weep for a week straight. Times when only a talk with God will suffice. And those times are usually times of hurt. When something is ripped away from you without any warning, or any replacement- so that there is just a gaping whole in your soul. Only God's love can fill those holes. I have to keep telling myself that, or I will wallow in sadness, in every sense of the word.
         9 months ago, I said that I would be posting on my new blog every day. That obviously turned out really well, but I am determined to give it another shot. Which is why I am here, putting down some more reflections for the beginning of the summer, if only to make myself seriously contemplate something not totally superfluous.
        Here's to new beginnings!!

Father's Day

Dear Dad,

        I thank God that the older I get, the more I love, understand and appreciate you. Thanks to you, our family grows in unity, strength and love every year. It is by your example that I am driven to love God more, not only because he gave me such an amazing father, but because every day I see how much you love Him. It really is a minor miracle that you have survived raising five strong-minded and opinionated girls without bashing a couple of our heads in, or maybe your own, though I sense that maybe you have contemplated this before. You surprise me every day with your kindness, probably because this is one of your traits I have yet to notice in myself.
      But what I love the most about you Dad, is how much you love Mom. She knows what I mean. Its the little gestures that make all the difference, like how you bring her coffee every morning no matter what, or how you will go get her floss no matter how comfy you are. Every morning I hear you creaking down those steps, I have to smile, because I am so happy to have you for my Dad.
      You teach bratty children all day and then come home and work on your land. You built this house and cultivated this property so that your kids could grow up happy and healthy. You gave me the most important thing in my life besides Catholicism: music.
      There is no proper way to thank you. For everything. But there is one sure way: to see you in Heaven. And I am sure I speak for all of us kids when I say that that is what I intend to do. Otherwise all your sacrifices are worthless. And that is the most heartbreaking thought of all.
      I almost wish all the kids in the world could have you as a dad, but then I would have to share you, and it is hard enough with the six of us already.
       I love you Dad. Thanks for taking care of Mom and us. Thanks for never giving up, no matter what. All I can do is pray for all of the blessings God can spare to be saved for you guys. I hope your day is perfect, and that you grow happier every moment. I love you both so much more than I have every shown you, and I am going to start changing that right now.

Sophie Ann

The Beauty of a Scent

      This past Holy Saturday Dad walked in from a shopping trip with one lily and a bag of groceries. I was disappointed and asked if the lilies were really expensive this year. Dad said yeah, we could only afford one, and I nodded sadly. We were to have the pleasure or smelling only one lily plant this year.
      Then he came in a couple of minutes later with two more! I couldn't believe it!
      It isn't just their pearly white color and soft symmetrical shape that make lilies one of the most beautiful flowers. It is that amazing fantastic smell, that seems to fill your mind with thoughts of peace and tranquillity. A smell that betokens hope and puts a smile on your face.
      One could even argue that the smell of any flower is really more important than the look, at least for the classics. Yes, all flowers are beautiful, but it is the ones that smell that have become famous. In the words of Shakespeare: "A rose by any other name would smell as sweet." There is something mysterious about the scent of a flower. It seems to come from nowhere, yet it permeates everywhere.
      Scents have long been known to be extremely helpful in creating memories. We can recall a scent from pretty much anywhere. If one has smelt it before he will recognize it, even if he cannot place the memory exactly. Just the other day my Mom came downstairs ready to go out. The smell of her perfume immediately brought me back to my childhood. She has had that same perfume my whole life. It brought me back to dozens of special occasions when she would come out of her room all dressed up, and the scent of her perfume would make me smile and get excited. I love that smell. It means comfort to me. Perhaps if she had never worn it, if I smelled in a store without the background of my memory, I would hate it. Who knows? Smells are embedded in our memories.
       This subject was brought to my mind now, in May, because it is the month of the lilacs. Our property grows literally dozens of bushes, and just yesterday, Mom brought in a big bunch and put them in a vase on the table. The house is filled with their glorious scent. Though there are some people who dislike the scent of a lily, I have never met anyone who sneered at a lilac's smell. It is sweet, but not sickening, aromatic, but not overwhelming, subtle, but not fleeting. The lilac is truly the queen of may-time for us.
       These reflections, as well as a recent stint of conversation with an artist friend of the family, led me to the question: can a scent be called beautiful? Usually men speak of beauty in reference to art, and as existing in a material thing. We normally sense beauty through sight, whether in a piece of art, another human being, or nature, or through pure ideas, like when we say that someone has a beautiful character. In that case, we use powers of communication and reason to decide. But what about smell? Does it fall in one of these categories? I have always stood by the definition that beauty is the harmony of order. And I suppose it is in the order of nature that a flower smells. But the smell itself, the actual sensation of smelling, is that something beautiful? We can see beauty. Can we smell beauty? One could argue that a smell is beautiful because it is in nature's order to come from that thing. But what about artificial smells? Are they then out of the category?
        And then there is the problem of the smell that is distasteful, but still part of nature. Mold for instance, is a perfectly natural thing, especially in something like cheese. But there are few who find it pleasant to smell. Or sweat, to go slightly grosser. Again, it is perfectly natural, but not usually considered a pleasant smell. Notice, we usually refer to smells as pleasant or not, not beautiful.
       So it seems nature can't automatically make a smell beautiful. But some scents do partake in that harmony of order that is universally appealing. Some scents are good, others bad, for most people. On the other hand, like in art, there is something very subjective in perceiving what is a pleasant smell. Memories and past experiences will play a big hand in that.
      Well perhaps more contemplation will unshroud this mystery, but in the meantime, it is an interesting and intriguing question.

A Day of Hail and Sun

Softly the heads of flowers poke

From underneath the soggy ground.

They do not fear the March time smoke

Or springtime rains; they make no sound.

The buds on trees are white and red,

The grassy shoots are green and bright,

The newborn fawns and rabbits tread

With gentle paws, hidden from sight.

Yet on occasion, from the trees,

They venture forth with cautious glance.

The gardens and the orchards please

Their eager mouths: they take their chance!

Then just as quick, with urgent hops

To shaded grove they scanter back:

To gather up their first young crops

The men have come with pail and sack.

But we have jumped ahead of time!

Tis not midsummer yet, I think!

The sun has not prolonged her climb

Nor yet have buds had their first blink.

The hail and sun trade places still,

While gray clouds gather and disperse.

The sunset streaks across the hill

And golden rays the trees immerse.

From their deep dens coyotes cry

And elk wander over the field.

As darkness mingles with the sky,

Grandly the full moon is revealed.

So spring’s soft night engulfs this land

Of simple homes, of one small town;

Offers her sweet, nurturing hand

To birth again what men have sown.

By Sophie Saurette

Reflection; 3rd Week of Lent

His sorrows are immense; they reach beyond
The mind of man to deep within Divine
Realities. God takes the sinner's bond
Upon Himself -offers His Son, the fine
Of man's eternal bliss. What cold, hard hearts
Who pass Him by, unnoticed on the road
To Calvary! Surely their conscience smarts
Who still insist in sin! But no! They goad
Each others' souls to greater depths. Meantime
His tears fall unavailing on the the ground
Of Olivet. One other heart, sublime
In its pure love, one with His pain, is found:
His Mother, to whose hurt the sea's abyss
Is but a raindrop -one, small, ocean's kiss.

Ash Wednesday

I cannot write of things sublime,
Of Heaven and Christ, and God's good love.
I cannot speak out of the time
Of earth's good seasons, marvels true.
I saw a streak of painted light
Of palest pink and yellow hue
Along the very edge of sight
Where sky meets hill and slips from view.
The day was one of gloom and ash;
E'en so my heart was light and free;
And when I saw that muted flash,
I wished I could forever be
So well content as in that glimpse
Of Beauty, which at once can turn
The hardest soul, the meanest sin-
All whom repentance, wish to learn.

So did Ash Wednesday lay its head
To blessed sleep. So did I rest-
Yet not in fear, not in regret. Instead
With prayers to stand the test
Which God this Lent for me sees fit.
Only his grace can soothe men's hearts,
Keep fast their souls from deep despair.
In time of Lent His love imparts
Sweet peace to those in sorrowful pain.
But precious few observe this fast
And often at its end decline;
Their goodly habits do not last
And worldly pleasures greater shine.
Yes Lent will cease to be quite soon
Just like the streak of light I saw.
Though it seem bitter, painful, long,
When it desists the darkness comes,
Like night upon that painted sky,
Blots virtues out, undoes their work.

What wisdom then, to yearly hold
These solemn days of penitence,
So that, with mind strengthened and bold
The Easter feast we honor well.
Now I must end, imperfect rhyme
Though it may be. I have my cross
To gladly bear on Calvary's climb.
In the Communion of the Saints
Catholics all enjoin their prayers!
All for His glory! Amen!


(Thanks for reading. Written by Sophie Saurette)

A Sonnet

Written: Quinquagesima Sunday, February 7th, 2016


It started out a day of glorious sun
All brilliant, blue, with not a cloud in sight.
Leftover ice, in patches, has begun
To shine, but not to melt. You know the light
Will not last; and now it is dark. All piled
Upon themselves the clouds look flat, all grey,
As steel or lead: they promise a spring, mild
And full of content. But for now they stay,
For days, and even weeks. Perchance they pour
Some bounty on the swelling ground below;
Or even in March days, on nature's floor
Lay down an unexpected gift of snow.
Oh, for the days of winter into spring!
No time but this so urges me to sing!

For Pat Hebert; passed away January 9th 11:17 am

It is as if she would not let us cry;
All peaceful seems the air in that small room-
The very atoms stand. My eyes are dry
For seconds few. No morbid fear of doom
For she who, in her death, uplifts these walls
Whose ruddy hue does Jesus' Passion show.
No, she, in bliss, now wanders Heaven's halls.
Her days, so fruitful, numbered in the snow,
Gave so much joy. Her spirit with us there,
Allowed only for love on its last day-
No anger, fear, or rage; now I can dare.
God knows our time, and that is why we pray.
Her kindness filled our house and lawn, our hearts;
This winter day her soul to Heaven starts.


( A sonnet by Sophie Saurette )