Monday, June 15, 2026

Monday the 15th: Saint of the Week

 St. Romuald lived in Italy (Ravenna and then Val-di-Castro) from 951 to 1027. He founded a refomed version of the Benedictines called the Camaldolese Order. There are currently two different Camaldolese orders; one is associated with the Benedictines and includes life in common; the other is more hermit based. Both continue to survive in today's world with sites on 5 different continents. 

From the below website, a quote from St. Romuald's rule: 

Sit in your cell as in paradise. Put the whole world behind you and forget it. Watch your thoughts like a good fisherman watching for fish. The path you must follow is in the Psalms — never leave it. 

 (Picture traced from Pinterest to https://www.patheos.com/blogs/kathyschiffer/2013/06/like-a-good-fisherman-watching-for-fish-advice-from-st-romuald/)

This may contain: an old man with a white beard and wearing a yellow hat is shown in this painting 

Friday, June 12, 2026

Thursday the 12th: Order in Chaos

 Three things I've done today that are slowly helping our house:

1. I put up curtains in the front windows. We have lovely big windows but you can see everything happening on the main floor from across the street. We just need a little more privacy, and this helps while still letting in the beautiful light.

2. I cleaned off the table. It had become a dumping ground because we need that, and honestly a lot of the stuff just moved to a different dumping ground, but one surface is cleaner.

3. I borrowed one bookshelf and set up another so I could get all the music unpacked on a shelf. There's still more to find but I'm getting there. 

 




 

Thursday, June 11, 2026

Thursday the 11th: Settling in



 

 It's not exactly that moving is hard, more that making new patterns is hard? Leaving old patterns is hard? Reinventing oneself and mourning the old self is hard. But we set up a room for my niece, and we saw some beautiful clouds while walking.

 

Wednesday, June 10, 2026

Wednesday the 10th: Moving day

 The movers have arrived and started moving furniture. Our list is made, and as they finish a room I'll do a final dusting and sweeping and then check it off the list.

 Final-final move isn't until next week when we close, but the goal is to have everything out except what the Husband needs to stay here for the next week for work. I think we did a good job (Husband did a good job) of keeping us organized and moving along.

Last night I took my house key off my key ring and took off the "hip hip hooray" ribbon that had been on there since I got the key 11 years ago. Hopefully there will be no changing of keys for a long long time after this. 

 




 

Tuesday, June 9, 2026

Tuesday the 9th: Packing and accumulating

 *Yes, the goal should be getting rid of stuff, but I saw the green mug at a new-to-me coffee shop, and it's a great size and color. Thankfully (?) I've broken a few mugs this month, so it's a good replacement.

*Moving means sorting, so we are moving the play tools on to another nephew, and I believe we are donating the blocks. We might keep them for now and then move them on. 

 




 

Monday, June 8, 2026

Monday the 8th: Saint of the Week

 St. Ephrem is a 4th century deacon and Doctor of the Church who lived in Mesapotamia (now Iraq). He's known for his hymns and his poetry.

 

”Lord, shed upon our darkened souls the brilliant light of your wisdom so that we may be enlightened and serve you with renewed purity. Sunrise marks the hour for men to begin their toil, but in our souls, Lord, prepare a dwelling for the day that will never end. Through our unremitting zeal for you. Lord, set upon us the sign of your day that is not measured by the sun. In your sacrament we daily embrace you and receive you into our bodies; make us worthy to experience the resurrection for which we hope. Teach us to find our joy in your favor! Savior, your crucifixion marked the end of your mortal life; teach us to crucify ourselves and make way for our life in the Spirit.”--from a sermon by Saint Ephrem  

 

This may contain: an icon with the words, let books be your dining table, and you shall be full of delights 

Friday, June 5, 2026

Friday the 5th: Last times

 For about two months I've been trying to consciously recognize the last time of doing things so that I can 1. properly appreciate and 2. properly grieve as life changes. I played for state music festival for (probably) the last time, so I took pictures of the weirdly impressive sculpture at the auditorium and its explanation, along with a list of KC coffee shops I haven't made it to but want to try when I get a chance.