The TV has been filled with sad news all week. First, the school shooting in Ohio; then the devastating tornadoes; not to mention the madness in Syria and our soldiers being targeted in Afghanistan. It's easy to shake our heads and ask "why?" and weep for the victims, but do we remember to pray for them?
First, some links of interest:
The new preschool where I work was featured on Monday in an article in our local newspaper. The day the photographer and reporter came to the school I had taken Curly to the orthopedist to get his cast put on his arm, so (thank goodness) there are no pictures of me.
Read this moving piece from Kathy of Faith on a High Wire blog about a recent hour she spent praying at an abortion clinic during a 40 Days for Life vigil.
The other day I made this tuna casserole. My bloggy/Twitter friend Christine posted the recipe on her blog. I modified it slightly (you can read the comment I left in her combox explaining how), and it was amazing. A quick, easy, delicious meal for Lent.
Finally, I'm sure you've all read about the fighting that's been going on here in Virginia about a bill that would require women seeking an abortion to undergo an ultrasound first. Christina posted some interesting thoughts on her blog, Real Choice, about why she is actually against ultrasound laws, even though she is prolife; and why she feels that right-to-redress laws would be much more effective in helping women make more informed choices. Check it out!
On Saturday morning I opened up the daily email I get from 40 Days for Life during every campaign. Their post for that day features a very powerful video from a 40 Days campaign in Australia.
Did you notice what was written on the side of the medical waste truck, the one that carries the bodies of aborted children away? "Sweeney Todd." That's the name of an actual medical waste disposal company. (I don't know how on earth they came up with THAT name.) Sweeney Todd is the main character in a musical by the same name. He opens up a barber shop above a restaurant in London that serves meat pies. He has a sinister partnership with the owner of the restaurant; he regularly kills his customers who come to his shop for a haircut or a shave (usually unwanted, unloved, and homeless people who presumably would not be missed), throws them into the incinerator underneath the restaurant, and the meat pie lady cooks them and serves them to the general public. People come from all around to eat her pies, which are the best-tasting meat pies in London.
The abortion industry is like Sweeney Todd, isn't it? People posing as "doctors" lure frightened women into their shops, telling them all they're getting is a little procedure to remove some unwanted cells. Like a haircut; easy as pie. Their children are dumped into a truck to be thrown out with the garbage, the mothers walk away scarred, and folks sing the praises of these doctors who lead them to believe that they can solve any woman's problems if she'll just offer their children to him for sacrifice.
I always thought Sweeney Todd was a only dark comedy, a made-up story of a man seeking revenge. It may actually be more truthful than I realized. And maybe the company's name is supposed to imply how conveniently they get rid of all those aborted children. (Did you see how Johnny Depp just sent his victims down the chute right to his fire-y furnace?)
One of Joe's co-workers loaned him a ham radio antenna. On Saturday he rigged it to a tree, dragged his old ham radio equipment out of a basement closet, and he and Curly spent the weekend talking to other ham radio operators all over the world. Curly was in heaven. They talked to France, the Dominican Republic, Cuba, Bosnia, and several U.S. states including Texas, Mississippi, Missouri, and Catalina Island off the coast of California. They had a long conversation with a fellow in Dallas, about how Joe had been an avid ham radio user as a teenager, this was the first time in 30 years he had operated it, and how he was introducing the hobby to his twelve- (almost thirteen) year old son. The guy congratulated them and said he guessed Joe was most likely in his early fifties (to which we suppressed the urge to burst out laughing; but truthfully he wasn't too far off the mark).
Moe took a few turns at the mic as well, but quickly lost interest. He found this strange activity immensely boring; and besides, "It's nothing but a bunch of nerds and old guys!" He's right. Joe is both.
And what better way to top off a weekend of Ham Radio Fun than by watching one of my favorite movies, Frequency?
It's amazing how young Caviezel looks in that film. He looks a little bit like Joe's brother, in fact. After the movie I told Moe I would call him on the radio after he went to sleep...and talk to him in the future! MWAHAHAHA!!!
He just rolled his eyes.
All over town I'm noticing daffodils blooming. It's too early for that. But they are beautiful.