Dear Friends,
Yes, I write "friends." My readers have been and remain extremely loyal to this writer and this little blog. Your comments edify me and often amuse me. I dare not name any of you, lest I forget one, but you are all very special to me, very appreciated. I've never really put any severe restrictions on the combox, though on a few occasions I do admit to not approving a few. To all of you, thank you, God bless you and let us pray for one another.
Blogging has been very light this last two weeks, a few posts on music most of which I did at one sitting the week before Christmas and then used a schedule setting to post them. I hope you've enjoyed the music and found it helpful. I felt it important for my own needs to leave the filth of the corruption of the Church behind for a while and focus on Christmas and home. There will be much more to come in Anno Domini MMXIX, to be sure. Even this very day.
It's been a very hard year around here. As some of you know, we lost our little Roxy. She came here on September 12, 2001 and was about six months old at the time, a rescue from a puppy-mill by the Ontario SPCA. She entered into our hearts and took part of it with her when she died in September. In November 2017, she was diagnosed with third-stage kidney disease. Yet, with two great veterinarians, one who specialized in holistic treatments, her kidneys barely deteriorated, but it took a lot of work and attention. In the end, it was a brain tumor to which we can look back and see the signs that were similar to dementia and coordination loss. Unless one has had a dog or a cat of course, one cannot understand that the sense of loss is profound. It is not like the loss of a child, the dog is not human. But it is the loss of one's greatest and most loyal companion who does not understand betrayal and only wants to love. Roxy rests in the garden under the watchful gaze of St. Francis of Assisi and a little Christmas tree.
May you be blest by the Christ Child, the Word Made Flesh, in this holy Christmastide and in the coming year.
Yes, I write "friends." My readers have been and remain extremely loyal to this writer and this little blog. Your comments edify me and often amuse me. I dare not name any of you, lest I forget one, but you are all very special to me, very appreciated. I've never really put any severe restrictions on the combox, though on a few occasions I do admit to not approving a few. To all of you, thank you, God bless you and let us pray for one another.
Blogging has been very light this last two weeks, a few posts on music most of which I did at one sitting the week before Christmas and then used a schedule setting to post them. I hope you've enjoyed the music and found it helpful. I felt it important for my own needs to leave the filth of the corruption of the Church behind for a while and focus on Christmas and home. There will be much more to come in Anno Domini MMXIX, to be sure. Even this very day.
It's been a very hard year around here. As some of you know, we lost our little Roxy. She came here on September 12, 2001 and was about six months old at the time, a rescue from a puppy-mill by the Ontario SPCA. She entered into our hearts and took part of it with her when she died in September. In November 2017, she was diagnosed with third-stage kidney disease. Yet, with two great veterinarians, one who specialized in holistic treatments, her kidneys barely deteriorated, but it took a lot of work and attention. In the end, it was a brain tumor to which we can look back and see the signs that were similar to dementia and coordination loss. Unless one has had a dog or a cat of course, one cannot understand that the sense of loss is profound. It is not like the loss of a child, the dog is not human. But it is the loss of one's greatest and most loyal companion who does not understand betrayal and only wants to love. Roxy rests in the garden under the watchful gaze of St. Francis of Assisi and a little Christmas tree.
May you be blest by the Christ Child, the Word Made Flesh, in this holy Christmastide and in the coming year.