Author: simchajfisher

Days with my father

When I was growing up, everybody else’s father would happily (or so I thought) camp overnight outside K-mart to make sure their kids got one of the few remaining Cabbage Patch Kids in town. They would give them the best presents: Game Boys, Simon Says games, and of course the Barbie Dream House, with elevator and real bubbling hot tub. We never got any of these things.

Instead, my father gave us experiences. It took me a while to realize this was a conscious decision; and it took me even longer to realize what a great one it was. He would spend days and weeks planning out trips, making reservations, calling ahead to make sure everything was what he thought it would be, and of course parking in a safe place and then heading out first by himself to “reconnoiter.”

We would set out on long, long excursions with nothing but a few metal canteens of water and several packets of sugar wafer cookies. But when we got there, it was always something amazing.  And, unlike all those cruddy toys I wanted so much, they are something I still have, in my memory. In no particular order, here are a few of the gifts my father gave us:

PIC Alpine Slides
PIC St. Gaudens

PIC Polar Caves
PIC Fenway Park
PIC Queechee Gorge
PIC Peaks Island Ferry

PIC Hamlet
PIC Isabella Stewart Gardner
PIC Rollins Chapel concert
PIC The Cloisters

PIC Hood Museum
PIC Museum of Modern Art
PIC Mt. Ascutney

PIC Metropolitan Opera

PIC Fairbanks Museum
PIC Midsummer Night’s Dream

PIC Coney Island Nathan’s
PIC Covered bridge
PIC Big Apple Circus
PIC Hopkin’s Center Symphony
PIC Lake Sunappee seaplane

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Happy father’s day, Abba! Thanks for all the days.

New Evanglization WIN: A Cosmological Proof for the Existence of God . . . in comic book form

Got a few minutes? Take your teenagers , or your skeptical, meme-educated internet friend, or yourself through this simple, graphic explanation for why it’s perfectly reasonable to think that God must exist, and what kind of being we mean when we say “God”: Why God Exists: A Rational proof in graphic art form. It makes a heavy topic clear, and is written by a fellow who is thoroughly familiar with the dark alleys and dead ends that pass for logic on the internet. Here’s a little excerpt, where he’s narrowing in on the idea of an uncreated being:

He clears up common misunderstandings (Medieval people were gullible morons, right?) and defines poorly understood words (metaphysics means crystals and smudge pots, doesn’t it?). And it’s funny:

And yes, he covers the Flying Spaghetti Monster. This here’s the new evangelization, folks. Well done! More like this, please.

At the Register: What makes a good dad?

There are a good many variations on the theme of being a good dad. Some fathers emphasize self-mastery or hard work, some are more joyful and relaxed; some are more formidable, some are more approachable; some are more physical, some are more cerebral. What all dads have in common, though, is that their children are no accident. They were given to them, specifically and intentionally by God, because of the gifts they have and because of the virtues they need to cultivate.

Read the rest at the Register.

And I didn’t include this specifically in the post, but good daddies wear the beautiful, beautiful bracelets their daughters made just for them:

Speaking of fathers . . .

Katrina Fernandez adds her usual honest and direct take about father’s day, from the perspective of a single mother. She says,

It doesn’t build up motherhood or empower woman to tear down fathers, whether you think they deserve it or not.

[…]

1- Don’t be bitter.

Even if you feel your bitterness is justified and caused by circumstances that may have been out of your control you have to stop and consider what message that bitterness is sending to your children, especially if you have sons.

Children internalize everything. When you speak ill of another parent in front of them they perceive it as an insult aimed at them. After all they are their father’s child.

All bitterness begets is man hating feminists out of our daughters and sons who think being a father can be replaced by a mother because their own mothers deemed fatherhood useless.

Bitterness perpetuates the cycle of abandonment.

Respect. Katrina never lets herself off easy. Definitely worthwhile to read the rest, if you’re a single mom or not.

Dolly Parton. Still.

How did I miss this? Dolly Parton has a new album out — her 42nd studio album! — and it is great, of course. Blue Smoke was released this year, and it is solid.  Here is the song I’m fixated on at the moment: her utterly natural take on Dylan’s “Don’t Think Twice”:

 

 

Love Dolly Parton. 68 years old and hasn’t started phoning it in yet. The older I get, the more I admire people who know how to work and keep on working, and who know exactly what their gifts are and how to use them.

Speaking of gifts, this is as good a time as any to remind you guys that I am an Amazon Affiliate, which means that every time you buy something on Amazon through my links, I get a small piece of the purchase price. It really adds up, and is, frankly, a big help in supporting our family.

If you click on the Blue Smoke link above, you will arrive at the album’s page on Amazon. If you don’t buy that album, but continue shopping and end up buying a table saw, a squirrel harness, and eleven gallons of extra virgin linseed oil, I will still get a cut of the purchase price. The key is that you got to Amazon through one of my links. I also have a tab that says “SHOP AMAZON HERE!” at the top of the page, and a blue Amazon block ad on the right sidebar. If you are ever going to buy stuff through Amazon, I would so appreciate it if you could take the time to get there through my links! Many, many thanks.

At the Register: When Your Child Has Problems

Bouncing off Jen Fitz’s advice for Christian parents of transgendered children, I have a few things to say about children in general:

When a child begins to exhibit some behavior that is worrisome, it’s easy to panic, to jump to conclusions, to apply adult-style significance to juvenile behavior, or to assume that we can make a diagnosis based on a single symptom or habit.

Here’s the basic idea, whether we’re talking about a child who is actually fine, and just going through a phase, or a child who actually needs professional help:  remember that we’re talking about a person, not a problem.

Read the rest at the Register.

Will I see you in Virginia this August?

I hope so! This year’s Summer Soiree and fundraiser for Mary’s Shelter promises to be a wonderful time. I will be this year’s keynote speaker for this organization that really gets what it means to be pro-life. Click here to RSVP. Free to attend!

 

My least favorite part about spring

Changing over the winter clothes.

It’s not just a matter of scooping up the cold-weather clothes out of their drawers and replacing them with hot-weather clothes, or even a matter of making a million little emotional decisions, like, “Do I throw away this ratty but beloved shirt while no one’s looking?” or “Do I pack away this baby sweater in case there is ever another baby?”

It’s a matter of going up into the little girls’ room, which is unaffectionately known as “Tinkle Town,” and facing the horrors that have been allowed to propagate over the last few, dark months. And it’s not just a matter of clean laundry not put away, or dirty laundry on the floor, or people who have guilted me into buying them pants because they don’t own any pants except those awful itchy gray ones, but it turns out that they have pants — LOTS of pants — but which they have been dropping on the floor, mashing elderly Easter eggs into, and then packing into old gift bags — GIFT BAGS! — and stuffing into the closet.  That’s all true, and dreadful enough.

But there’s more. Let’s just say that what sounded like wild, coke-fueled parties after bedtime was actually wild, Coke-fueled parties after bedtime. 36 cans of Coke. Also a bowl of sugar. Bad children! Bad! So bad!!!

Anyway, with a job as big as this, there is no such thing as a system. The only system is to dive in head first and resign myself to sheer misery and a marathon workout for the washing machine and dryer for the next 72 hours.  Pray for me. And the first person to say “First World Problems” is gonna get a gift bag from me.

Drawing on the Right Side of the Brain: Wanna?

I am thinking of going through (and dragging my older kids through) the home drawing course outlined in Drawing on the Right Side of the Brain.

Here’s the blurb:

Translated into more than seventeen languages, Drawing on the Right Side of the Brain is the world’s most widely used drawing instruction book. Whether you are drawing as a professional artist, as an artist in training, or as a hobby, this book will give you greater confidence in your ability and deepen your artistic perception, as well as foster a new appreciation of the world around you.

It’s not a comprehensive drawing course, but an entertaining and user-friendly introduction for people who want to learn how to see better, and to translate that skill into realistic drawings.

Anybody want to join us?  If enough people are interested, I’ll have a blog link-up once a week, where people can display their work and check out everyone else’s. I know summer is busy, and there’s a chance we will start and then fizzle out, but you never know!

Great article about Catholics and depression

Michael J. Lichens contributes a guest post to The Catholic Gentleman: Black Dog Days: How to Deal With Depression.  It’s sympathetic but not squishy, practical, realistic, and humble. Great read for anyone who is suffering through depression.  An excerpt:

Prayer is very hard when you are depressed. I, for one, have nagging doubts when I go through my black dog days. God seems silent and I wonder where He is and what He’s doing. All the same, I do pray, and peace eventually comes. In one case, it took me two years of praying, but peace did come. Mother Teresa’s dark night of the soul lasted several years, but she endured. You can find strength in the same faith.

If you are praying and meditating and the words do not come, then sit in silence. Find an icon or an adoration chapel and utter the words, “You are God, I am not. Please help.” If nothing else, your mind will slow down and will shift its focus to God, who sustains all life and is the source of our strength.

I know this is hard, and sometimes you will want to give up. If you can do nothing else, try to take comfort in knowing that Christ didn’t die and rise again just to leave you alone. Find the saints who did suffer from grief and depression and ask them for help. They, more than any other, are eager to come to your aid.

Read the rest here.