First things first, as of today I am now officially a parishioner of the Cathedral of St. John the Baptist in Savannah, Ga. I'm incredibly pleased with this fact because I just feel so much more at home when I'm at the Cathedral than when I attend my mother's church and I feel like officially joining just makes that a bit more of a reality.
So, to recap my day. I started with (reluctantly) dragging my lazy bum out of bed and quickly getting dressed in long sleeves. (YES!) I was still cold even with the long sleeves, and had to make use of my sweater, but this is all a good thing because it means that I can start wearing my jackets and layers again and I LOVE that!
Having dragged myself out bed and gotten ready for the day, I went to mass, which was, as always, lovely. I like going to mass. It's a nice way to start the day.
After mass, I went down the road to the fancy Parker's and got breakfast and some change. I walked back to my truck, added a little more time to the meter, and then went and walked around the Colonial Park Cemetery for about half and hour. Then I took the long way back to the rectory office and officially joined the parish. (Yay!)
I then walked around Savannah for another 30 minutes, including briefly stopping in the SCAD shop (waste of time that, and not in a good way) before heading to Saints and Shamrocks.
Have I mentioned how much I love this little shop? While it's certainly not the greatest Catholic book shop ever, it is actually really well stocked for it's small size. I bought a cross for my wall (it's celtic style and has St. Patrick on it.) as well as buying two books and a pack of two really pretty green pocket handkerchiefs with a lovely clover design embroidered on them. The books are St. Patrick: His Confession and Other Works and Three Irish Saints: A Guide to Finding Your Spiritual Style by Kevin Vost. I've already cracked both of them open to get an idea of what they'll be like.
Vost's book isn't really my normal reading style, but it sounded interesting, and I'm not one to turn down a chance to learn more about St. Patrick, so....I figured what the heck? It can't hurt to read it. I'm most excited about the first book though.
I love St. Patrick. I mean, I admire and respect a lot of saints, but I have a particular love for St. Patrick....even if he didn't drive any snakes out of Ireland.
Actually, I don't mind snakes all that much, and would much rather deal with snakes than rodents, but that's not the point here. My point is that I have a special place in my heart for the not-really-Irish Irishman (they claimed him, he's been adopted by the whole country for centuries, he's Irish.) Added to that is the fact that I'm pretty sure he's been working with Mother Mary to bring me to the Catholic church, and you can kind of understand why this book might be of particular interest to me.
I'm slowly getting used to the fact that most Catholics don't think I'm out of my mind when I say "I'm being (gently) dragged to the Catholic church by the Blessed Mother and St. Patrick." Yes, God's involved too, but I think the Good Lord understands that the gentle prodding of Mary, combined with St. Patrick's experience of being called on by generations of Irish Catholics (with their bad tempers and foul mouths) would get the best results. (That being excitement on my part.)
Plus, I'm pretty sure someone out there is the great wide wonder is laughing at me. Not sure who, but someone is laughing at me.
So, what's the great part about an Irish Catholic store? Easy. I can get a lot of my Catholic needs (books, tchotchkes, etc). And then, I can turn around and get lovely little Irish knick-knacks! Did I mention that I love tchotckes?
Seriously, I love kitsch. Shamelessly enjoy these sometimes over-the-top items. I also have a long-standing and deep-set love of the entire British Isles, Ireland and Scotland in particular.
I'm not sure what it says about me that I have this fascination with two groups of people known for having bad tempers, high alcohol tolerance, and a healthy appreciation for knock-down drag-out fights that end with every one having another beer, but there you have it. Proofs in the pudding, so to speak.
Actually, having re-read that paragraph, I think that says a lot about me. Except the alcohol tolerance. I've never actually tried to figure out what my tolerance level is.
Oh well.
Anyway, time for me to sign off for the evening. Take care all!
Yours always,
Tara
