Seems as if I've been on a break for quite sometime.
It's because I've lost interest in much of what I used to write about, and more so, what others write about. It seems to me that we only have problems if we allow ourselves to have problems. The things we worry about and endlessly discuss - especially those things out of our control - will all be solved one way or another.
Sister Wendy died today. She was a hermit, art historian-critic, and a spiritual writer I admired very much. She lived in a small, unheated caravan-trailer on the property of a Carmelite monastery. She slept on the floor. Not a worry in the world.
Everything gets resolved you know.
I didn't follow Christmas at the Vatican nor on media. I went to a quiet Mass in a church old people frequent. Very quiet, very hidden.
Lovely peace, and simple joy.
I had a fire outside and lighted candles, decorated Our Lady's shrine in lights and fresh Babies Breath, fed the critters apples, nuts, and seeds, and prayed my rosary. My cat remaining indoors but watch through the window. It seemed to me very Tuscan, very Franciscan.
Merry Christmas ... make it last - we have 12 days of it!
