For the last several years I’ve helped a priest friend of mine with his weekend homilies.  He’s from Poland, and he doesn’t think his English is as good as it really is.  Writing English is still problematic for him, so I’ve helped him out.

On Thursday of this week I checked my Catholic calendar, and I read that this Sunday is the Feast of Christ the King.  When I was in college in Mobile, Alabama, that used to be a big deal that featured a big parade of all the Catholic entities.  I marched in it twice in coat and tie as a Spring Hill student.  I’m sure they gave that up decades ago as too triumphalistic. 

When I talked to my priest friend on Thursady about his homily for this weekend, I told him I had a couple on file from previous years for Christ the King.  I sent both of them to him.  I thought one of them was unusually good.

He called me tonight to say he and I had made a big mistake.  He had read over the homilies and chosen the one I thought he should use.  When he got to the church for evening Mass today, he discovered that the Feast of Christ the King is next week, not this week.  Since he had nothing else prepared, he read the gospel for next week this afternoon.  He said the people who were trying to follow the reading in the book in the pews gave up in frustration. 

This priest has an extraordinary sense of humor, which is why I think we can be such good friends.  At the end of Mass he told the congregation he had a confession to make.  He told them what had happened (he hadn’t bothered to double check me on the Feast of Christ the King), but he told them his mistake didn’t get them out of coming to Mass next weekend.  Apparently the congregation roared with laughter.  There are definitely worse ways of ending Mass.

ED

Beth and I went to a dinner party tonight given by my mother-in-law (age 91 on December 7th) at my daughter’s restaurant, and we had a wonderful time.  There were fourteen people in attendance, and the food was to die for.

We started off with drinks and hors d’oeuvres that consisted of the best bite-size crab cakes I’ve ever eaten and a bite-size round of corn bread topped with grilled smoke sausage and a dallop of apricot chutney.  Next was a Caesar salad.  The entree was beef tenderloin with sauce Bearnaise with fingerling potatoes and fried green tomato.  The dessert was fresh berries with Chantilly cream.  I had a glass of excellent red wine with the meal.  I asked for a go-box for my leftovers, and my daughter filled up a large box with enough meat, potatoes, and rolls to feed us for several meals.

Tonight’s occasion was the perfect solution to how to entertain when you live in a retirement center, as my mother-in-law does.  I was more than proud of my daughter, Catherine, and my son-in-law, Mike, for seeing to it that Liza’s great-grandmother entertained her friends in style.

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Last night, in the middle of the night–right?–we had a power outage. It woke me up because a machine Beth uses at night started beeping loud.  It was louder than an alarm clock, and it woke me up.  I woke up and told her to go fix her machine, and she did.  I went back to sleep immediately, and I woke up at 7:30 this morning.  She didn’t wake up until 11 o’clock.

ED  

I’m happy to report there was no aftermath.  The sun was shining when I woke up this morning at about 9:30, but it got cloudy as the day progressed.  I had some minor drizzle as I was delivering Meals on Wheels this morning, but I never got wet.  I just heard on the TV that we had wind gusts of 47 or 48 miles per hour, but I was never aware of that.  Ida was pretty much a non-event for us.

Every time I pass a Catholic church, I say prayers.  At this time of year, I say, “From the terrors of the hurricanes, O Lord, deliver us.  Our Lady of Propt Succor, hasten to help us.”  I think this time my prayers were heard.

ED

We’re in the midst of a tropical storm.  It was a hurricane until this morning, but it’s weakened significantly over the colder water of the northern Gulf of Mexico.  We’ve had rain off and on all day, but it’s mostly been a steady drizzle, not a real shower.  It’s supposed to be bad tomorrow, but they’ll probably end up calling it a “rain event” for us.  Still, they’ve closed schools for tomorrow, which I find both ironic and bizarre.  Wednesday is a school holiday for Veterans Day, so maybe they just wanted to give the kids a mid-fall break.

Two other ironic points:

One, this is the first tropical storm event we’ve had in two years, that Beth and I can remember.

Two, this is way late in the year for this kind of thing.  August and September are typically when we have tropical distrubances, but they’re never this late.  Hurricane season doesn’t officially end until November 30, and it seems like I remember a trop in the first few days of December a few years ago, but it didn’t amount to anything.  The water in the Gulf is too cold by now to fuel a hurricane, so we just get the rain.

We haven’t had any winds yet, and, if we get them, we’ll probably lose power.  Fortunately, it’s cool enough that we can survive without air conditioning if the power goes off, but I hope it won’t.

ED

Saturday was the annual Fall Festival for the Council on Aging.  The weather was glorious, and the crowds were large.  Beth brought Liza to the festival this morning, and Liza had a great time.  She bought some kind of doll and a cloth flower in the craft area, and she insisted on taking both of her purchases to bed with her for her “nap.”  

I was the Board member who co-chaired the Silent Auction event, and we had something like 87 items for auction.  I won three: a set of four crystal Martini glasses, a device that keeps food and drinks hot and cold in the car, and a year’s worth of haircuts at the salon I regularly go to.  There was a pancake brealfast, a lunch of either grilled chicken or fried fish, and we had a hot dog stand going all day.  There was entertainment throughout the day, a book sale, and a “garage sale” called Trash and Treasure.  There were carnival style games for the kids, too.  We raffled off a car that was donated by the Sheriff’s Department, and a two month old infant won it because his grandmother had written his name on the ticket she bought.  There was a lot to do, and people seemed to be having fun.  I don’t know how much money we made, but we think it’ll be several thousand dollars less than last year because sponsorships by businesses were down.  As my wife pointed out, fund raising is suffering in these hard economic times.  Still, it was a good day, and I left there tired and happy.

ED

Beth went to the orthopedic doctor today about her wrist, and he ended up putting her in a cast from her hand to her elbow.  He gave her a choice between a cast ($60.00) and surgery ($6,000.00).  She chose the cast.  He told her it would be more stable with a metal plate in it, but, as she told me, she really doesn’t plan to play in Wimbledon as a lefty in this lifetime or any other.  The doctor is a surgeon, and, for surgeons, “a chance to cut is a chance to cure.”  And also a chance to make a lot more money.  I realize I’m probably being cynical, but the doctor who saw her last Thursday said she needed a cast, not surgery.  He wasn’t a surgeon, but that wasn’t the first broken wrist he had seen in an emergency environment.

Her fingers are swollen, and they had to cut her wedding band and engagement ring off her finger.  Beth said they had a special tool to do that, and she described it as a manual circular saw that was about the size of a dime.  I can’t really imagine what that looks like, but I’d like to see it.  She’ll be able to get those rings repaired. 

I’ve had my wedding ring re-sized twice.  The first time was to make it bigger when I blimped up, and a second time, recently, after I lost 45 pounds.  I can slide mine off easily, but I don’t feel anymore like it’s going to accidentally slip off my hand.  When I had it made smaller, it used to pull off my finger when I took my hand out of the pocket of my jeans.  That’s when I thought I would lose it if I didn’t get it re-sized.  It’s funny that even your fingers get smaller when you lose weight.  My weight loss was very gradual (over 8 years), and I’m not still losing weight, although the charts say I’m still slightly overweight at 170 pounds.  According to the charts, I’d be within “normal” weight at 155, but I’d have to buy a whole new set of clothes if I got down that low.  I’ll take my chances at 170. 

Beth hasn’t threatened to smash me in the face with her cast yet, but I think it’s just a matter of time.

Monkey Liza started gymnastics today, and I haven’t heard how that went.  Knowing her, I suspect she’ll be a natural at it.  Maybe diving, too.  Both of her parents were athletes, so she’s probably got the genes.

ED

It’s a sad fact that we didn’t have a single kid come to our house for Trick or Treat last night.  There was a time when we could barely keep up with all the knocks on the door, but there just aren’t any kids in the neighborhood any more.  I used to always take Susan and Catherine around to the neighbors, while Beth stayed home to give out our candy.  One neighbor used to give candy to the kids and beer to the parent with the kids.  I liked that approach.

Liza did some Trick or Treating at her great-grandmother’s retirement center yesterday morning.  She was wearing her Snow White costume, and all the ladies loved it.  Then we went to Aunt Addie and Parrain’s house, and she got a box of Peeps on a Halloween theme and a stuffed bear dressed like a witch.  Liza chose to leave the toy at their house, but she took the candy home.  Aunt Addie allowed as how the bear/witch might do for next year, too.

Later in the day Aunt Judy came over with a Halloween flashlight for Liza.  The flashlight has 8 or 10 different Halloween-themed filters, and Liza had a great time taking various ones into the downstairs bathroom, turning off the lights, and scaring them by projecting the images on the wall.  Last night she took it Trick or Treating with her.  She had a candy bag in one hand, the flashlight in the other hand, and a long costume skirt.  She fell twice running from house to house.  She was very excited. 

Last night Catherine made Mike get up and hide Liza’s Halloween candy so she wouldn’t get up during the night and eat it.  This morning Catherine was home with Liza while Mike was at work.  Cat wanted to give her some candy, but she couldn’t find it.

All things considered, Liza (and her grown-ups) had a very good Halloween.  She’s at an age where she actually “gets” what’s going on, and she loved every minute of it.  We can’t wait for Christmas.

ED

Beth’s wrist is till broken, but I “caught” her typing on her computer this morning.  I figure it can’t be that bad.  She drove her mother and three of her mother’s friends to lunch today.  Apparently two of the friends are mostly deaf, and Beth had a wonderful time with them because of that.  Beth always has fun whereever she finds herself.

ED

We have an enormous sweetgum tree growing in the right angle between the driveway and the deck, and every year at this season, the tree drops leaves and ball-shaped seed pods.  Yesterday morning, as Beth was loading her car for a breakfast her Foundation was sponsoring, she stepped on one of those balls.  Her feet went out from under her, and she went down.  She broke her fall with her left hand, and she broke her left wrist in the process.  She knew her wrist was messed up, but she said she figured better her wrist than, say, her face.

She worked all day yesterday, but this morning she noticed her wrist and hand were discolored.  She went to the doctor, and she has a broken wrist.  They put her in a splint and a sling, gave her a prescription for pain medicine (which she didn’t have filled), and sent her on her way within 30 minutes of her arrival.  She said that’s the kind of doctor visit she likes and expects.  She told them she was a busy woman and didn’t have time to waste.  They honored that.  She worked the rest of today.  On Monday she has an appointment with her orthopedic doctor, and the doc she saw today said he’ll probably put it in a cast.  “Her orthopedic doctor?”  Yes, doesn’t everyone have a regular orthopedist?  If you’re Beth you do.  This is the third time she’s broken a bone. 

When she called me this morning to tell me about the diagnosis (I was sound asleep when she left the house both yesterday and today), she told me I’d have to see about food for both of us.  Tonight she told me she really could have cooked, but I insisted on making her dinner.  Her dinner was a chicken salad sandwich I had bought at a deli, baked potato chips, and a pair.  I’m nothing if not a gourmet cook.  I offered to put lettuce on the sandwich, but she didn’t want that.  I bought quite a lot of low-fat chicken salad, so she’ll probably have that meal again.  I’ll work on convincing her to have lettuce on her sandwich.

So that’s the story of the broken wrist.  What about the limp wrist in my title?

Well, tonight I watched a documentary on DVD from Netflix about same-sex marriage.  I realize referring to that as “limp wrist” is totally stereotypical, but I couldn’t figure out any other way to link Beth’s broken wrist to the movie.

The movie is called Tying the Knot, and it was very interesting.  It sort of traces the history of same-sex marriage back to the earliest days, and it talks a lot about interracial marriage, which once was illegal in some places in this country.  I’ve been a proponent of same-sex marriage since I first heard about it years ago, and I genuinely believe it’s a matter of social justice and a democratic imperative.

So, isn’t it ironic that I could find a way to link a broken wrist with same-sex marriage?

ED