All the news I wish to print

There are all kinds of stories out there. Some will make you laugh, some will make you cry. Some will make you shrug, some will make you scream. Read any daily paper or listen to any newscast and your emotions can go from happy to sad to disbelief to fear to incredulity to horror to anger in very short order.
As we go along, there will be stories, as Paul Harvey used to say, to "wash your ears out with." There will be others that will make you feel like you need to be deloused simply by virtue of have in heard or read them. Some posts will be religious, some secular and for some I expect will defy easy classification in either category. I hope you will join me in this journey and pleas feel free to comment along the way.
For my part I pledge not to remove any posts unless they are vulgar, libelous, threatening or otherwise in violation of the standards of civil discussion. I will not remove any post simply because I disagree with it but I will reserve the right to respond to any challenges that come my way.
God bless you and welome to my blog.

Friday, December 23, 2011

A California Christmas

Some tips for a truly Merry Christmas



Remembrance
A California Christmas

by Charles A. Coulombe

December 19, 2011

But my father was an alchemist—he could turn misery to joy by focusing on what we had rather than what we did not. There were the same tree ornaments we had had back home (some of which survive to this day at my brother’s house), and the same nativity scene; we attended the aforementioned Hollywood Christmas Parade (then called the Santa Claus Lane Parade); the four of us sang carols, and the Midnight Mass at Hollywood’s gorgeous Church of the Blessed Sacrament in those pre-Novus Ordo days was magnificent. The next day, there were presents under the tree and proof that Santa had arrived in the form of soot marks around the fireplace.

But my father was an alchemist—he could turn misery to joy by focusing on what we had rather than what we did not. There were the same tree ornaments we had had back home (some of which survive to this day at my brother’s house), and the same nativity scene; we attended the aforementioned Hollywood Christmas Parade (then called the Santa Claus Lane Parade); the four of us sang carols, and the Midnight Mass at Hollywood’s gorgeous Church of the Blessed Sacrament in those pre-Novus Ordo days was magnificent. The next day, there were presents under the tree and proof that Santa had arrived in the form of soot marks around the fireplace.



Read on.

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