June 18:
I forgot about that first
day of kindergarten in the basement of the Presbyterian Church when strangers
oohed and awed over an itchy cast gift from the boys in Florida and their
pancake toss to the ground.
June 19:
The Club sounds like a
golf outing, a martini, or a jump in the Olympic sized pool. Instead, it’ a
Chilean film so brutal three dogs were killed during its climax.
June 20:
I have nothing more to
say about church except that I’d never quote Romans to make locking up children
(or putting families in chains) seem okay.
June 21:
A summer solstice,
another rainstorm, and a towel, those are my tools for the day, coaxing terry
cloth under an old dog’s chest, offering longer life to limp legs on the
shortest night of the year.
June 22:
Bidford-on-Avon with its
White Lion Inn where Shakespeare probably drank, near Henley-in-Arden and the
Othello for squid and onion prep, those are the memories I hold of a place that
no longer carries those names.
June 23:
“World Without End” a Gloria Patri ending, “As it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be: world without end. Or, Leigh-on-Sea’s Amen. Doxology meets Documentary.
June 24:
Unitarian Univeralism has
its own space in the Wikipedia entry for Doxology, with words from Curtis W.
Reese's adaptation of "From all that dwell below the skies" sung to
the old 100th “in every land, in every tongue.”
June 25:
What happens when we hold
memories based on photographs? Blind men describing an elephant, projecting and
ignoring partial experiences instead of building a whole truth.
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