Monday, May 07, 2012


Generations: the Sarlos, Donna’s mother’s parents, probably in New York, probably in the ’40s. Relatively narrow-brimmed hats weren’t just in the ’60s. They’ve always worked well for certain builds.

Flea-market treasures:


A jet-age sapphire.

My watch.

Anti-war but pro-troops and pro-Second Amendment.

Ever since the Pope reformed the Novus Ordo in English, while I like living Novusless I’d wanted to see how it’s playing in what’s left of liberal parishes. Had my chance thanks to the First Communion of one of Donna’s nieces. Run by an old religious order so there you go. A lot of the junk is still there, from the guitar music (at one point I thought they were going to break into the Beatles’ ‘I’m Looking Through You’, and the man who looks like an old rock star plays very well) to the women, older of course, serving at the altar and giving Communion, because after all, it’s a 40-year-old ‘tradition’, but now it’s Catholic in spite of them, thanks to the Holy Father. It’s not heretical or invalid so in a pinch you can go to it. (You can make a case for invalidity because of lack of Catholic intent – they even use a silver classical Anglican Communion cup, deliberately not shaped like a Catholic chalice, one of the ways Cranmer flipped off the church when the king let him – but I won’t push it here.) Benedict means business: do it or else. Deo gratias. Credit: the priest sang the real chant, in English, for ‘Ite, missa est, alleluia, alleluia’ so, the only time I sang, I sang back the chant response. (Most Sundays at Sung Mass I only sing the Credo and responses like that and enjoy listening to the two Anglican hymns. It’s my day of rest.)

I’m guessing it used to be the town’s Polish national parish, now merged with the old territorial parish downtown (which has a charming little 1800s church no longer a church and a big postwar building; interestingly the downtown one is in an area now very immigrant Portuguese). Some nice shrines:

‘I am the lady of the rosary.’

Ite ad Joseph.

Taz the Italian greyhound’s paws are gnarled by arthritis.

Santa’s little helpers. This brother and sister are half-Italian greyhound, half-miniature pinscher.

Relaxing after a long day.