Also known as "used bookstores." It's best for me to stay out of stores that sell used books -- I can never confine myself to browsing; inevitably I leave with more books than I came in with. Yesterday I succumbed to this unmanly weakness and entered a congenial shop, where I purchased a couple of books about sailboats. In addition to selling wonderful used books, this store features a neon sign spelling out the most important rule of the establishment, a rule we would all do well to heed:
Our parish, like all parishes, receives a lot of junk mail, and it usually makes its way into the recycle bin pretty quickly. But this envelope caught my theological eye. Anyone care to comment?
Yesterday I pointed the transom of Vidi Aquam. This had been gnawing at my mind since last year when I repaired the transom and left some epoxy exposed on the outside of it. Unpainted epoxy, when exposed to air and light, turns a very unattractive yellowy brown. Intolerable. Simply intolerable. Now that winter is (almost) over, it was possible to remedy the situation with a good paint job. Now, as your Grandpa always taught, the key to getting a good paint job is surface preparation. So I removed decals, sanded, scraped, removed adehsive left behind by old registration sticker and boat name decals, drove to the chandlery for dewaxer, wiped down the surface with a volatile dewaxer (kids, don't do this at home and if you must do it put out your cigarette first or you will be blown to smithareens), cascaded water on it to see if the water beaded up (indication that wax remains on surface), hit it again with dewaxer, took a break, applied masking tape, drove back to chandlery for a decent brush that I was supposed to pack the day before, then took a deep breath and started painting. I applied one coat of Pettit Easypoxy with a small roller, then tipped it with a brush. Looks like a million bucks. The picture was taken before the masking tape was removed. Next week the outboard goes back on. Eight days later, into the drink she goes. Just in time for the season. BONUS EXPERIENCE: watching the family of eagles that nest near the storage yard. Thanks to DeDe for the video.
The parish now has a website and the webmistress asked me to make a blog to go with it. I guess if you have a website you also need a blog. In creating the new blog I was inspired by the saintly Bishop Edward Hettinger, a former auxiliary Bishop in these parts. Bishop Hettinger deserves a web page of his own. He never wanted to be a bishop at all, and was content to serve as pastor of Sacred Heart Parish in Columbus. When not tending to his garden, he kept a diary of parish events such as baptisms, funerals, weddings, etc. One of my favorite entries went something like this: "Lucy ____ died last night without the last Sacraments, due to the stupidity of her relatives." In that spirit, I have created a Parish Diary for St. Stephen the Martyr Parish.
Those who believe in the precise use of words say that we should avoid calling other human beings "creative" because only God can create something from nothing. What is one supposed to say, however, when one meets up with the latest creation of Parishioner A? "Imaginative" is too weak, "resourceful" suggests the boy scout. No, what you see before you rises to the level of artistic achievement. And he did it all without one penny of grant money.
Today marks the 40-year anniversary of a remarkable feat of single-handed sailing. On April 22, 1969, Robin Knox-Johnston became the first man to sail around the world alone and unaided, without making a single stop or taking on supplies at any point in the journey. A psychiatrist who interviewed him pronounced him "distressingly normal." Sir Robin Knox-Johnston (yes, of course he was knighted) later commented that the psychiatrist seemed a bit off. Knox-Johnston, now 70, keeps up an active career training new sailors for great adventures. Congratulations Sir Robin!
Here, like a patient etherized on a table and chopped into tiny bits, lie the disjecta membra of one component of a theatre pipe organ made by the Kilgen Organ Company of St. Louis, MO, for the Alberston Theatre in Kane, PA, in 1928. All wooden pieces have been cleaned and given a new coat of shellac. Worn out leather and rubber cloth has been replaced with new material. Now let's see if I can put it back together. When complete, this mechanism will operate the bass drum and crash cymbal. Check back in a couple of years.
Yesterday I pointed the transom of Vidi Aquam. This had been gnawing at my mind since last year when I repaired the transom and left some epoxy exposed on the outside of it. Unpainted epoxy, when exposed to air and light, turns a very unattractive yellowy brown. Intolerable. Simply intolerable. Now that winter is (almost) over, it was possible to remedy the situation with a good paint job. Now, as your Grandpa always taught, the key to getting a good paint job is surface preparation. So I removed decals, sanded, scraped, removed adehsive left behind by old registration sticker and boat name decals, drove to the chandlery for dewaxer, wiped down the surface with a volatile dewaxer (kids, don't do this at home and if you must do it put out your cigarette first or you will be blown to smithareens), cascaded water on it to see if the water beaded up (indication that wax remains on surface), hit it again with dewaxer, took a break, applied masking tape, drove back to chandlery for a decent brush that I was supposed to pack the day before, then took a deep breath and started painting. I applied one coat of Pettit Easypoxy with a small roller, then tipped it with a brush. Looks like a million bucks. The picture was taken before the masking tape was removed. Next week the outboard goes back on. Eight days later, into the drink she goes. Just in time for the season. BONUS EXPERIENCE: watching the family of eagles that nest near the storage yard. Thanks to DeDe for the video.
Here, like a patient etherized on a table and chopped into tiny bits, lie the disjecta membra of one component of a theatre pipe organ made by the Kilgen Organ Company of St. Louis, MO, for the Alberston Theatre in Kane, PA, in 1928. All wooden pieces have been cleaned and given a new coat of shellac. Worn out leather and rubber cloth has been replaced with new material. Now let's see if I can put it back together. When complete, this mechanism will operate the bass drum and crash cymbal. Check back in a couple of years.
