Archive for 28/12/2010
Selfish, immature, spoilt, self-obsessed and egotistical – I give you Sir Elton John who, along with his partner David Furnish have obtained a Christmas baby as their latest toy. This child is a replacement object of affection for a deceased close friend, apparently, according to this prissy, egomaniacal pop star. They are, reportedly, “overwhelmed with happiness and joy at this very special moment”. Quite. It is a sad reflection of our modern world that this situation is seen by some as a cause for celebration. It’s not. It is the use of a child as a commodity to satisfy the selfish whims and desires of two people who could not possibly be natural parents, either by dint of sexual orientation or, in normal male-female reproduction, age. It is a sad and immoral state of afairs; and to try to justify the situation, as many have been doing, by stating that because some heterosexuals are bad parents then this is a good thing is misleading and just plain silly.
I was very wary of doing a ‘Christmas Blog Post’, mainly because I’ve been to Mass, I’ve watched some rubbish Christmas TV, I’ve had a beer or two, we’ve carefully arranged all the presents under the tree and all is ready for an already very excited Caitie to wake up in the morning to that particular kind of excitement that only children can experience on Christmas Day morning and I feel that what I write will probably only end up being trite or sentimental or just plain boring.
All I will say therefore and notwithstanding what I’ve just written is that, as you’ve probably guessed, I didn’t manage to get a Just A Catholic Dad episode recorded and prepped and published in time for Christmas, so I’m sorry and will try to do better over the following week or two! I did record something, but realised that by spending the time attached to my PC editing it and preparing it, I wasn’t actually going to be spending the time leading up to Christmas with the two people about whom the podcast is actually about. So, somewhat reluctantly I admit, I decided to give it a miss, but I will get back in the saddle as soon as I can! I miss podcasting when I don’t do it – I think that it’s cathartic!
May I wish all of you – especially the wonderful people who download Just A Catholic Dad, those who have befriended me on Twitter and Facebook, and especially to those great people who have taken the time and effort to write to or contact me – a very Happy and Holy Christmas. God Bless, Sean.
Hi Everybody! Hope that your Advent is leading very nicely through Office Parties and into Christmas! Pat Denny wisely pointed out that if I wanted people to have a go at writing or recording a 60 Second Saint, a list of those saints already covered was probably a good idea! So, so far, we’ve had….
St Seraphia, St Rosalia, St Laurence Justinian, St Wilfrida of Wilton, St Hubert, St Albert Magnus, St John of The Cross, St John of Damascus and St Lucy. Remember – 230 words is about a minute at Sean Warp Factor 10 reading speed! So, either send me a ‘script’ or, even better, an MP3! Don’t worry about the music or if it’s a little over or under 60 seconds – I can use the magic of modern computery wizardness to fix that!
I’m going to try to record a Just A Catholic Dad tomorrow morning, but time is against me, so wish me luck!
Hammering two nails into the wall above the archway leading from the kitchen into the hallway and hanging an old blanket from them to keep the heat in has been very succesful in retaining heat in kitchen; ice in shower room a minor problem! Have suggested returning to work early , but there was an insinuation that I was a ‘splitter’. Heating and hot water now down to two hours a day with open fire and immersion heater taking the slack. Five days supply of logs left. Ancient slo-cooker dragged out from loft and prepared for action. Roadkill logs have already paid the ultimate sacrifice. One inch of oil used in 5 days: Doing the math – outlook not good.
Snow on the ground, domestic oil running out and no delivery possible ’til 7 Jan, logs not delivered, heating rationed, hot water not hot, Aga on the verge of running out of heat, cold to the bone. Bah Humbug!
In #23, Caitie and the Christmas Crib, and I wobble on about Sex Ed UK Stylee – CAUTION, this is not suitable for young children – PLEASE exercise discretion. Lots of feedback from some great JCD listeners and the 60 Second Saint is St Lucy.
End Music ‘Hallelujah’ by Bill Tucker, available through www.musicalley.com
I love to get your feedback – please drop me a line at firstname.lastname@example.org.
In the event of my not getting another podcast done before Christmas – HAPPY CHRISTMAS!
PS I’m not an SQPN podcaster, but please support the SQPN Fund Drive! Great content, great Catholics and great podcasts!
In this episode: It Happened Today, Caitie’s version of Mary’s family, feedback from Trese about taking children to Mass, Victim Catholics, Catholic News and more.
The 60 Second Saint, St John of Damascus.
End Music ‘O Come O Come Emmanuel’ by Fisher. www.fishertheband.com
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Alternatively, leave a comment at my blog, firstname.lastname@example.org
Thanks for listening,
Further to my blogpost yesterday about snow, I’d just like to say the the same Damascene conversion has not happened regarding sheet ice!
When I was a kid, I loved snow. Cold fingers and toes were a price worth paying for those rare years when snow meant more than a bare sprinkling on the ground in February and a repeat of White Christmas on the TV. Yesterday though we got hit by snow. About four-inches worth overnight. Now compared to the rest of the UK, that wasn’t a huge amount; we weren’t snowed in, our roads generally were kept clear, nobody was stranded on the motorway for 19 hours, and I was lucky in that I didn’t have to go to work. My reaction to the brilliant blanket of white was at once surprising and saddening; of course it was a beautiful picture and there was a pleasure in seeing the dog and cats experience their first snow, but my first reaction was one of worry; I knew that the next morning I would have to get to work on icy, slippy, unlit roads. I remembered the previous year and the 50 minute journey home which took 6 hours in blizzard, drifting snow and ice, several times skidding across the road and praying that I didn’t slide into somebody. Full of the joys of the season I was not. The fear was not of being snowed in – you can’t do anything about that – but of the aftermath where I knew that I would have to attempt to get to work.
So I was grumpy. Not a natural state for me, but grumpy I was. Nicki suggested that we all took Tara the dog for a walk, and my first inclination was to say that I would take the dog out by myself, all the better for getting it done quickly and getting back inside into the warmth. But, luckily, deep inside my inner Grinch was just a glimmer of a little boy wanting to go out into the snow. So off we went, wrapped up to the ears with the Gordon Setter bouncing around us on her four totally uncoordinated legs. Then Caitie threw a snowball at me, and without taking a moment to grumble about my coat getting wet, I gently threw one back. And a cloud lifted, the worry about getting to work fell away and I began to actually enjoy myself - I could almost hear the Hallelujah Chorus playing and a jolly good fireworks display going off. We got very wet and very cold – especially poor Caitie’s feet as we discovered when we got home and found her wellies full of melted snow. By the time we were half way round the walk, her hands were so cold that she was wearing both Nicki’s and my gloves. She looked like a little pink Muppet, and her hands and feet were so chilled that even a chocolate bar from the village post office didn’t cheer her up.
Sometimes we adults are just too…well..adult. We forget that the Lord put us on this world to enjoy life as well as to live it. At what point was my youthful ability to experience joy in something as beautiful as a fresh snowfall replaced by a grey, colourless, joyless misery in seeing only the potential inconvenience it would cause me? It took a three year old girl and a snowball to put me straight.