Tag: Moor Mother

Cloister Commentary, Day 282: Home Again

Nicole and I headed back home yesterday after a holiday with my mom and my brother and sister-in-law. I knew Nicole would do so with no problem, but I’d worried how successfully I would be able to stay masked (other than being outdoors and sleeping and eating) for the whole visit. It’s not that I didn’t want to; I’m simply too present-minded, meaning my mind’s so full of everything important I need to attend to that I can forget the most important task. I would give myself an A-. It has been a very, very hard year for all of us and we needed to be together.

On the ride home, we listened to the audiobook of Wright Thompson’s terrific Pappyland. I’ve recently mentioned it, but if you have a gift card for a bookstore, think about this one. It’s about the famous Pappy Van Winkle line of bourbons, but it’s also about fathers and sons and so much more. I was dazzled and stunned by a passage in which Thompson links Rick Telander, Bruce Springsteen, and Thomas Merton as if that would be as natural as spring water running downhill.

We kicked back in the evening with a Shakespeare’s pizza, a glass, some music, and Christmas gifts. I fiddled with a new Inspire “health watch” as Nicole warned, “Nerd Alert!”

Streaming for Strivers:

I have the cassette.

Cloister Commentary, Day 87: Migas!

Any day I can see and talk to my dad, mom, brother, honorary sister, and my stalwart Springfieldian friends is a good day. I am thrilled to report my dad is exploring the work of Bart Ehrman! Also, my friend Heather’s family love and care, activism and neighborhood leadership is very inspiring. Zoom, I dislike you, and I will resolve that, but you made our visits possible.

Nicole and I walked Louis about three miles around the Stephens Lake Park loops. The ol’ pooch is getting a little creaky, as his recovery time’s getting slower. He is still on-point with random barking outbursts, thanks to the fox who’s pooping in his backyard.

I had been begging Nicole for migas all week and, thanks to our neighbor Shireen’s gift of fresh tortillas from Tortilleria El Patron, who make the best in town, I was quieted. They featured a spicy black bean and salsa topping with avocados and radish slices.

We closed the evening by reading and listening to three disks of Art Tatum. I was mostly occupied with Gary Younge’s Another Day in the Death of America, which chronicles the lives of 10 American kids who died by gun on November 23, 2013. That wasn’t far from a normal day.

Streaming for Strivers:

Punk + a poet. Pissed. Pennsylvanian. “In the midnight hour / [She] erases these cowards.”