Running the Manor House

Imbolc                                                                         Valentine Moon

“Bob.  Gas man Bob.”  The sales rep from Centerpoint energy introduced himself, pronounced himself of German ancestry and therefore very excited about strong coffee, minor league baseball and variable speed fan motors.

The second estimate is on the table.  Literally.  At the end of our kitchen table.  Reliance and Center Point.  Nice folders.  Roughly similar costs.  A few bells here, whistles there.

Tomorrow Brad from Air Mechanical comes out.  He’ll be the last.  We’ll make a decision and should have a new furnace by mid-week next week.  At least 95%, maybe 96.5% efficiency if we decide we want the quieter variable speed fan motor.

Owning a home means these kind of transactions go on all year.  The handyman fixes the door.  The snowplower clears the driveway and the sidewalk.  Ray cuts the grass.  Mickman’s opens up our irrigation system and closes it down in the fall.  We have a crew that washes our windows outside twice a year, cleaning the gutters at the same time.  It’s all part of a balance among the things we can do and want to do and what we’re willing to pay others to do.

We do our own pruning, tree removal, garden amending, planting, bee keeping.  I maintain the electric fence and installed it.  We harvest our flowers, vegetables, fruit and honey.  We’re lucky that we can sort tasks out along these lines.  It makes life so much easier.

 

 

German Shepherd Heels

Imbolc                                                                     Valentine Moon

Benedict has bowed out.  Exit stage right, 2/28/2013.  A man who began his papacy less radically than I imagined gained conservative momentum as he stayed in office, facing down Vatican II, modernism (a bit late on that one, I think) and maintaining a wall of episcopal purple between the Church and its accusers.  Failure depends on perspective and intent, so calling him a failure seems premature to me.

He may have realized that the world for which he hungered no longer exists, will not exist.  In that case he would not be a failure, but simply a warrior facing too strong a foe.  A hero of his convictions, if not his results.  It is, of course, to this outsider, a faux-war that he generaled.  Contraception, gays, criminal priests, the vernacular liturgy, the onswelling tide of secular sentiments, all these Benedict saw as problems, problems requiring a marshaling of the troops and tight theological armor.  Yet these are problems only from within a narrowed, puckered understanding of the richness of life.  Except for those criminal priests.

They are a problem, but Benedict saw them as a problem of public relations rather than for what they were, commentary on the Church’s inane devotion to celibacy and its more than archaic understanding of human sexuality.  Not to mention the criminal acts themselves that in their mundane nature challenge the sacred order.  Literally.

As a former church administrator (Presbyterian), I have a good feel for the difficulties the Vatican faces.  Most of their wounds have come self-inflicted, but the pressures from liberal constituents and conservative constituents make consensus only a dream, not even a far away hope.  Benedict chose to lay the power of his office, the levers over which he had direct control to cover up, dismiss and hide from world of our day.  I doubt that his successor will have much better to offer.