Someone Else's Time on My Hands
The famous photograph reminds me of a recent email I received from my husband. There was a great review in nextbook.org about Elsa Morante.
I always wanted to be a writer. I AM A WRITER! But what I mean to say it that it seems that CREATIVE writing comes from people with BIG lives.
Alberto…
“Can you please take Mattie to the bathroom, she wet her pants?”
Where was I…Alberto & Elsa, the “glamorous” couple spent evenings together in tratorrios with artists, dissidents, philosophers and filmmakers.
Three Jehovah’s witnesses (whom I respectfully ignore) knock at the door, even though there is a no soliciting sign posted outside.
Morante met Morovia at a dinner party where he slipped his key in her pocket.
What on earth is nextbook? “A locus for Jewish literature” and what is my husband doing reading that in the classroom?
In 1943 Morante and Morovia fled the Nazis on the backs of donkeys. With only two books, the Bible and Brothers Karamazov that they were forced to use pages from each as toilette paper along the way and while in exile.
“Scuzse me Mrs. A, my nose is bleeding, can you help me Mrs. A?”
Apparently Morante published a few novels, including, Aracoeli, in 1982 which gave way to her great depression, an attempted suicide and a heart attack. She is said to have suffered because she lost her beauty and could not deal with that.
Mrs. A, I am sending Jonny to your office, if that is ok, he is not following rules today and needs a time out. Is that ok Mrs. A?
I always wanted to be a writer. I AM A WRITER! But what I mean to say it that it seems that CREATIVE writing comes from people with BIG lives.
Alberto…
“Can you please take Mattie to the bathroom, she wet her pants?”
Where was I…Alberto & Elsa, the “glamorous” couple spent evenings together in tratorrios with artists, dissidents, philosophers and filmmakers.
Three Jehovah’s witnesses (whom I respectfully ignore) knock at the door, even though there is a no soliciting sign posted outside.
Morante met Morovia at a dinner party where he slipped his key in her pocket.
What on earth is nextbook? “A locus for Jewish literature” and what is my husband doing reading that in the classroom?
In 1943 Morante and Morovia fled the Nazis on the backs of donkeys. With only two books, the Bible and Brothers Karamazov that they were forced to use pages from each as toilette paper along the way and while in exile.
“Scuzse me Mrs. A, my nose is bleeding, can you help me Mrs. A?”
Apparently Morante published a few novels, including, Aracoeli, in 1982 which gave way to her great depression, an attempted suicide and a heart attack. She is said to have suffered because she lost her beauty and could not deal with that.
Mrs. A, I am sending Jonny to your office, if that is ok, he is not following rules today and needs a time out. Is that ok Mrs. A?
Remembering Mom
It’s really not about the gift
What matters is you remembered
It wasn’t so much a card to lift
But signed sentiments showing you cared.
Like a uniquely single fingerprint
The mood and intention revealed
As your handwriting gives a hint
Empty and exactly how you feel.
What matters is you remembered
It wasn’t so much a card to lift
But signed sentiments showing you cared.
Like a uniquely single fingerprint
The mood and intention revealed
As your handwriting gives a hint
Empty and exactly how you feel.
Sunday, May 03, 2009
A Prayer to St. Joseph for Work in His Name
St. Joseph, father of all who are devoted to toil, obtain for me grace to work in the spirit of penance in order to atone for my many sins; to work conscientiously, putting devotion to duty before my own inclinations; to work thankfully and with joy, deeming it an honor to employ and develop by my labor the gifts I receive from God to work with order, peace and moderation and patience; without ever shrinking from weariness and difficulties; to work above all with pure intention and a spirit of detachment from self, having always before my eyes the hour of death and the accounting which I must render of time ill-spent, of talents unemployed, of good undone and of my empty pride in success which is so fatal to the work of God. All for Jesus, through Mary and in the imitation of thee of Blessed Joseph. This shall be my prayer in life and death. Amen.
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