Yesterday the 4th to the last spaghetti squarrrsh from 2021 got cooked up. Lot’s of butter, onion chips, pepper. That’s it. Delicious, after more than six months after harvest.
Meanwhile, same day, these asparagi were harvested and cut up raw and put into a coleslaw salad:
Please don’t say asparagusses or asparagooses. Just don’t. There’s name is not Gus and they’re not geese. The plural for goose is not gooses. I think everyone should have a couple of years of Latin grammar school and a couple more in middle school and a couple more in high school.
For that matter, being that Holy Week is almost upon us, don’t say that Jesus was scorged at the pillar. It’s like being brave, as in courage, or like a nickname for a dog, that is, “cur” – cŭr. Thus, scourged is like scŭrged, with a “short” “u”. Sorry, my pet peeve.
I can’t help myself. It’ not that we’re against being “vaxxed” with abortion tainted fake “vaccines.” We’re against receiving such “vaccines.” Why’s that? Doing up a bit of historical philology, “x” is actually an abbreviation for “ks” in Greek. That old cow “vacca” (whence we get “vaccine”) has a “c” closing a syllable and another opening a syllable. “Vaxxed” would be “vaksksed” or “vacccced” in derivation. I think we should teach Greek to kids as well, and Hebrew. Sacred Scripture is most important, and we need honest to goodness Catholics learning these languages instead of just leaning on the heretics we have at present.
Meanwhile, the first tomato blossom:
No bragging going on here. Humiliation for planting way too early may soon follow. This weekend we’re supposed to have a few mornings well below freezing and tomatoes are super-susceptible to cold. I’ve had to put the five gallon buckets over them a few times already. They survived. Lot’s of water dripping off them in the morning when I took the buckets off, but that water didn’t freeze. I’m concerned, however, for what’s to come. We’ll see what happens.
I still have to plant string beans and October beans and corn. That patch, half of it yet, still has to be weeded and fertilized and have good soil put over the top before planting. A little bit every day. These few moments of exercise are doing wonders for me on all levels. God is good.
I call to mind a group in our diocese in and around Charlotte who are doing up gardening as a kind of Catholic movement. I couldn’t agree more with them. It’s not just about prepping and good taste and exercise and the sociability that goes with it – and there is plenty of sociability as people share tips and… fertilizer… and such.
But there’s also a reclaiming of the theology of work, something Pius XII was all for when he instituted May 1 as the feast of Saint Joseph the Worker. God created us to be coworkers with Him in creation for the sake of praising Him in His wondrous creation and for the sake of charity in every way. And that’s a spiritual “experience” if you will in every way.
But original sin dumbed all that down so that we end up growing thistles and spreading those to the neighbors’ gardens. Grrr… And now we have the ugly hated “labor” of the “proletariat” that is structured to be slavery for the state. Now we have the “kill ’em all” mentality of Russia murdering through the decades hundreds of millions (perhaps well over a billion world wide) from Stalin to Putin. No individual rights, just cogs in a wheel to be replaced at whim.
Gardening with a prayerful spirit, with Joseph and Jesus, doing the hard work of tilling and fertilizing and weeding and pruning and staking and varmint hunting, and with dearest Mary for harvesting for the meal five minutes later is most refreshing for the soul. And, you can bet a few Hail Marys are said… you know… for the souls in purgatory… Hail Mary…