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Not exactly Mardi Gras ...

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The Mardi Gras scene to the left is one I did not see on my recent trip to New Orleans but would love to return for. I had a lot of fun, though we had tropical downpours nearly every day, and the occasional thunderstorm in the morning. The food was great, and I got a really lovely piece of needlepoint canvas at a shop called the Quarter Stitch -- where I went in a cab because it was, as usual, raining. The New Orleanians I met were glad to see us. One of our convention bus drivers expressed his relief that conventions have begun to return to the city in significant numbers. So we were glad to be able to help with that. Now, back at home, we are in the dog days of summer, which I have just learned extend from July 3 to August 11 -- we are nearly halfway through. That should be some consolation. But I have no energy and no focus, and am longing for fall!

Letting the good times roll?

Tomorrow morning I'm heading off to New Orleans for a library conference, so I probably won't be blogging for a bit. I feel guilty going out in the evenings for a good time in a city that has suffered so much, especially since I know I probably won't even leave the relatively undamaged French Quarter. On the other hand, I will be spending considerable amounts of my employer's money, and some of my own, while I'm there, and I know the area needs tourism. Still, I feel uneasy about the whole trip. So I might be letting the good times roll, but I'll be saying a lot of prayers, too, especially if I can find a nearby Episcopal Church.

Summer blahs ...

OK, I'll admit it. I've been slacking. I know I should be blogging about spiritual matters, but the fact is, I'm tapped out. I really struggle to get through summer. Now, I know how silly that sounds! My dad suffered in the winter from seasonal affective disorder (SAD), but I don't think there's an equivalent diagnosis for those who find summer days tediously endless. But that describes me. I loathe heat and humidity, both of which we normally have in abundance here. I love the beach, but never seem to get there. I come home from work and sit on the porch in a funk, reading pulp fiction to pass the time. I don't think I'm depressed; I'm just not inspired. It's also true that the Church on the Pike cycles way back during this time of year. The Rector takes a long vacation; while he's gone, we either have supply priests, if they're available, or we do Morning Prayer. Small groups also tend to go on hiatus. The choir is having a rest. I had a

Friday fun

Gee, I always think of myself as kind of resourceful. Guess not. You guys will have to fight the zombies by yourselves. Good luck! Go with God! 37% Mingle 2 - Free Online Dating

Crabgrass on the loose!

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Having read quite a few articles about declining populations of songbirds, frogs, and honeybees, my husband and I have asked our lawn care company (known at our house as the "Grass People") to cease using any and all chemical pesticides on our lawn. Naturally, they argued with me a bit, and employed their secret weapon. "You know you'll have weeds now," said the Grass Person to whom I was speaking. "We can still use organics on your lawn, but they won't prevent ... crabgrass." I guess she was waiting for the gasp of dismay that didn't come. The threat of the evil and greatly feared crabgrass failed to move me. World hunger moves me. Genocide in Darfur moves me. Dead songbirds and mutated frogs with two heads move me. Crabgrass -- no. Lawns are highly overrated, in my view, and if I had my way, we would completely cease paying money to the Grass People. In fact, if I had my way, we would let the front lawn grow into a luxuriant meadow, full