Based on the reactions that I got from some of my friends when I said this, I gather that no one else's parents sang it to them every time they pulled into their own driveway. Talk about cultural illiteracy!
I know that there's a lot of blogging to be done in regards to the choir trip, but that's just going to have to wait, because I have other things to think about.
When I got back onto campus last night (I don't really count Fischer as "campus." Sorry, Car :) ) I noticed something. The air at Notre Dame is unique. I’m not talking about the soursweet wind that comes from the direction of the ethanol plant, or the scent of manure drifting from freshly mulched flower beds. Oh, don’t get me wrong, those are definitely part of it, but it also smells like generations of disintegrated lilacs and fallen leaves turned to humus. Not the kind with chickpeas, but the kind that is the top layer of dirt in a rich ecosystem. It also kind of smells like fire, which may have been why I found myself on the way down to the Grotto at 1:30 this morning.
Living next to the Grotto could do amazing things for my prayer life. I got twitchy and distracted during the last half of the rosary, and was doing it completely wrong, singing psalms in my head at each decade because I don’t have the mysteries memorized, but it felt good. Really good. It’s been too long since my knees ached from praying. Hopefully they’ll learn to embrace it this summer.
I'm sure I have things to be doing right now, but I think I'm going to take a nap instead. I'm still kind of on Alaska time. Sorry about the scattered entry.
Oh.
HHHHHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAPPPPPPPY BIRTHDAAAAAAAAAAAAY, CAROLYN!
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1 comment:
Thaaaaaaank you Katie! And thanks for helping me celebrate! Lastly, re: the entry after this one, I've read your poetry I've seen you revise, and I've actually witnessed the changes in your style that have taken place since we were undergrads...you have never failed to improve, even when I thought the original was beyond improvement. Like your jewelry making, you continue to find new tricks and styles and if any one of your poems is half as fantastic as the necklace you gave me for my b-day, the world will stop and take notice. It is good to keep searching and reevaluating...that is only healthy. But, my dear, you cannot be compared to any other poet or writer that I've ever read...you have a style all your own, and while I'm no literary critic, I've read a thing or two, and I like it. Anyhoo, get some sleep, someone should! Oooh, and call me! :)
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