Although at this point it is always difficult to distinguish between her fingertips as she, yawning, stretches and the street lights on Coburg Road; and I believe it is overcast. It is the feast of Saint Peter Canisius, Confessor and Doctor of the Church, today (Introibo, CE [pre-canonisation!], Wiki), and Holy Mass will be streamed from Saint-Eugène at 1000. The Victoria (well, the Ad coenam agni providi) was in my head earlier.
Finally have realized why the interruptions to the Bluetooth speaker connexion happen: it is because the mouse is on Bluetooth too and clicking it (or clicking it at certain points) pfts the speaker connexion, ha. Was afraid that the speaker itself was collapsing; one can of course purchase a new one but that would involve spending a not negligible amount of money. (I recently moved the speaker to a spot nearer to the laptop-- the other way around, actually-- and I suppose this has confused the electricals.)
And have settled upon the correct proportions for the morning juice: one lemon and four navel oranges of the smaller sort. (I don't know what the size difference at Safeway represents but there are larger navel oranges and there are smaller ones, which smaller ones are almost always available 4 pounds to the mesh bag.) The unavoidable variation in taste-- sizes vary, age of the fruit varies, how fiercely I scrub away at the flesh varies-- is one of those welcome peculiarities of each new day.
Mons Chaput is flogging his new book and there is an interview today at Catholic World Report. If anyone should be an eminentissimus dominus purpuratus, it is Charles Chaput; that he is not is a clear indication of troubles of one sort or another in pectore pontificis.
... Francis loved the poor, loved creation, and loved God’s hand in the world. But there was nothing soft or indulgent about him. He demanded holiness in himself and his brothers. He was well acquainted with Sister Death, and he understood very clearly that to meet her with peace, a person needs to live for God and for others, rather than for oneself....
Jamais arrière. One notes that next Monday, the Roman Pontiff will preside at a public Consistory at which the decision will be taken to canonize the Blessed Charles de Foucauld, inter alii et aliae. Beate Carole, ora pro nobis. I was going to draw a jocular contrast between this 'good' Foucauld and the 'bad' Michel Foucault, requiescat in pace, but this is enough of that.
Post Sextam. Am listening to a concert given at Wigmore Hall on... Monday, I think; I missed the live-stream in the morning, when I checked in the afternoon the recording wasn't yet available... and then of course I forgot about it until now. Tabea Debus, recorder, Elizabeth Kenny, lute, and Jonathan Rees, viola da gamba; if I understand correctly they and their friends or associates perform together as Urhworm (which 'earworm')-- there is at least one album available. A lovely 75 minutes. I will admit to being one of those people who associates the recorder with his sister's elementary school music projects; Miss Debus is brilliant.
The writer Jason Colavito has written a book about Jason et alii, which I've not read; but his website features a collection of maps, here-- the route of the Argo according to Apollonius, to Pindar, Timaeus, etc. (The fairly obscure Herodorus-- I don't recall ever having seen the name-- says that they came back the same way they went, vastly simplifying the matter.)
The glorious-voiced Christa Ludwig has died. Requiem aeternam dona eis, Domine, et lux perpetua luceat eis. Requiescat in pace. Amen.
... An eccentric 2005 English effort by Sigfried Petrides attempted the feat of translation but was poorly worded and reordered verses to support the translator's thesis that the poem recorded a voyage to South America....
It is also the feast of Saint Zita (13th century), of Saint Peter (14th century), and of Saint Simeon (1st century).
V. Et álibi aliórum plurimórum sanctórum Mártyrum et Confessórum, atque sanctárum Vírginum. R. Deo grátias.
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