Saturday preachateria

I think today i'll make a post out of what is going on in my day hour by hour, and publish it when I finally give up!

9 a.m. thinking about sermon. doing my kitchen counter scrub-down routine. starting a new sourdough, using some senescent yeast (I hope). (THAT'LL PREACH) my neighbour is jack-hammering--he's replacing his garage, and has gotten down to removing the concrete pad, poor soul. furnace has come on, and we are glad. it's a grey and clammy sort of day. thinking thoughts about "NOW will you restore the kingdom to Israel???" and some contemporary versions of anti-imperium and/or Liberation Theology. I'm hearing an echo; is it just me?

10 a.m. playing on computer. conducting FB conversations with two out of town friends simultaneously. all very exciting. thinking about hymns for Pentecost on the 12th. hockey history on TV behind me, here in the living room. watched by #1 Son and hockey-fan cat. the Toronto Maple Leafs in their glory days, staffed by thugs from the mining communities -- some very familiar images from the Rambler's childhood.

11 a.m., television has moved on to British soccer, and thence to darts. neighbour continues to run the jackhammer. I have washed and applied polish to a large double handful of miscellaneous silver teaspoons and coffee spoons. have cooked and eaten 9 big mushrooms, fried, on toast (2 pieces). glass of o.j. also. elderly yeast has stepped up, sourdough is bubbling hopefully. still cuddling my original cup of coffee from this morning, now cold of course...if the Glycemic-Index diet-book says I can't have ANY coffee, and I'd ordinarily have three or four cups at least during the day...maybe just one and that one BLACK will represent good faith on my part? thinking about sermon some more, thinking about the "last sentence" -- thanks, friend -- I think it has to be the last sentence of the gospel, a good platform for an ecumenical pitch, a strong one. The oikumene as over against the imperium. Aha.

12 noon and we're on, at last, to tennis. enough, I think, of the professional sports. will now find something more stimulating, or turn the TV off altogether. neighbour is taking a break from the jackhammer. I need to assemble a baking dish of manicotti, and cook the filling for a prospective tourtiere. televisually, the choice seems to be John Wayne or Gregory Peck... either way, the Myth of Retributive Violence seems to be in good repair.

1 p.m. ok, have set a big bowl of yogurt in the oven-- time to find some soup for lunch...tremendous engine noises from my neighbour's yard, which might mean "Vehicle Stuck" but may only mean they are lifting the broken pieces of concrete into a truck.
something in the sermon about changing the direction of our gaze to be a witness to something -- what does that mean? doesn't it mean looking in a different direction? looking in a hard, confusing direction, carrying the lens of what we have witnessed...a persisting image on the inner retina. There. I think that will do it.

Almost 3 p.m. I have made a little spinach frittata for my (late) lunch. I am cooking up the filling for my tourtiere, and I have the ingredients out of the fridge to make the manicotti. In the meantime I hard-cooked a couple of eggs, which let me dispose of the carton (it will go to the food bank). Watching Cahill: U.S. Marshal -- well, no, treating it more like a radio drama... and will shortly get back to reading Katherine Paterson, The Spying Heart...and that will do for today...clean clothes ready for tomorrow, house in reasonable order, working on this week's grocery list.