Oh I am so disappointed

I am disappointed today.

Recently, someone posted on The Hive what seemed to be a heartfelt attempt to make amends for past wrongs.

Now it looks as though that was all a ruse of some sort.

*sigh*

Well...it does make for fun reading and I am toying with the idea of alerting the Dr Phil show about the goofy behavior of a few of the participants on that site.

Then I think, "Oh heck...there has to be something more fun to do today than that".

We had a fun weekend...yes, the Niners lost to Green Bay (the bums) but CAL beat Stanfurd in Big Game!

Duffy went to the groomers and came back acting as though he had been tarred and feathered. Actually, he had been clipped and brushed and 'expressed' and shined up for the holidays...he looks like a cute little Scotty dog now instead of a bushy mess. Duffy would, however, have preferred to remain a bushy mess. In his mind, he was quite the handsome lad. Well, take it from me. He was cute but he had that Scotty aroma that can be a bit, uh, MUSKY...it was time for a bath, shave and haircut.

This Thanksgiving will be spent at my brother's house. He and the nephew are talking again - kind of - and I am glad. I did not want the nephew leaving for the army still estranged from his father. I do not agree with a lot of what my brother does, but he is my brother and he loves his children as best he can - and listen, as far as he is concerned I am a sanctimonious creep who thinks she knows everything. Well, I know it is tough being the little brother - even when you are 48 - and I am a know-it-all at times and have to watch that character defect. The reality is my brother is unhappy most of the time because he has shoved God and The Eucharist out of his life.

Mass this past weekend celebrated the Feast of Christ the King - and sitting there listening to the readings brought back memories of the fun we had growing up at our old parish. The name? Why Christ the King, of course - so it was a time for lots of singing and wearing your best dress to Mass and games and potlucks in the hall. It was a feast day, in the old fashioned sense of the word. Catholics know how to worship and we know how to celebrate too. I don't care if Marcus Grodi misses his covered dish suppers - unless you have chowed down on a combination plate of ravioli, torta, lumpia and German Chocolate cake at a Feast Day Potluck you have not lived.

So, maybe I won't be disappointed. Maybe, instead, I will take this opportunity to pray some more for that goof ball posting under about seven different names and pretending to be someone he is not. I cannot imagine the pain that drives that behavior.

And maybe I should be grateful to be handed still another reason to pray?

Yeah, I think that's a better attitude.