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Showing posts from 2020

The School as a Death Trap

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We head back to school in a few weeks. Oh you should hear the socialists crying out - "Death! Bloody Murder!" - about the fact that, at least for now in Saskatchewan, staff and students won't be required to wear masks. I'm not sure why socialists love masks so much. Science Incorporated? Trust in the Globalist Agenda? Because surgeons in a sterile and controlled-air environment use masks so as not to spit on a vulnerable person's internal organs? Or, they're just flat out ugly people, and the covering does them good? The other day I saw a woman walking her dog in an open field. She was wearing a mask. My only thought was, "and these people vote?" May as well put a mask on Fido while you're at it. Except I'll bet Fido would have none of that.Either way, here is a solid article by a teacher across the pond. Check it out HERE.A snippet:It also feeds the terror propagated by clickbait media. My least favourite weasel word in all this is ‘unprece…

Summer Projects: 2020

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As is my yearly custom, I will post my summer projects. Each year the projects get less and less impressive. No longer am I jackhammering concrete, ripping out tubs, or remodeling kitchens. Now it's more about doing little projects with the kids. And so, here is a glimpse at summer, 2020:Project 1: playhouse
The boys took apart the old sandbox.

And carted it away.

We built a deck together, now they're holding up the walls while I hammer them in place.

Sheeting. The boys put in hundreds of nails. The playhouse is half nails.

Ahh the roof. I built it specifically to use exactly one bundle of shingles. 

Last touches, putting the sand back.

Here we are!

A sneak peak of the inside. A little kitchen area for Emilie. Also, some storage shelves (the real reason I built the playhouse...).


Project 2: shiplap feature wall
Not much to say here. I was sitting staring at a wall in our living room at the heart of the virus lockdown. And I thought... "That wall might look good with shiplap." F…

Bat-Mask Protocols by David Warren

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I recommend everyone go to David Warren's website and read his latest on wearing a mask to protect yourself. It turns out masks are highly effective for our safety... just not in the way you may think.

HERE A snippet:
I carry one around, in the back pocket of my trousers. It has served me for several weeks now. A kindly friend gave it to me. I take it out whenever I must enter a store, or other place that might have people in it. In obedience to the latest nanny-state law, I put it on. This is to keep everybody happy. I realize it is useless against a virus, but I’m trying to avoid getting beaten up. That, I think, is the only thing it’s good for.

"Where are Our Keys?" "Locked in the Van... with the Baby..."

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Not everything has been going our way lately. Because of this, yesterday was a very good day.

Two things to complain about: the rain and the Mass. The rain has been plentiful this summer. Too plentiful. The only thing more plentiful than the rain has been the mosquitos. Meanwhile, the Mass has been frustrating. Mass? I Meant Massk. Or was that the holy sacrifice of the Mask? Call it what you will, but when a priest becomes afraid of COVID, it becomes a hellish nightmare for the parish. Or what's left of the parish.

God is good. Yesterday we ended up at a Mass in a nearby town. Our third in four months. The Mass there is usually a challenge, liturgically speaking. But what a difference four months makes. The Mass yesterday was just a normal Mass. No incessant talk on The Virus. No masks and gloves.  No hand pumping of sanitizer every 34 seconds. Just a small, practical, and very normal Mass (liturgical challenges and all). I cannot tell you enough how refreshed our souls were afterwa…

102 days in between Masses and...

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102 days.
From back in March until now, it was exactly 102 days in between Masses at my local parish. It was about as I expected. As I frequently say, “expect the worst, and you won’t be disappointed.”
We arrived the mandatory 15 minutes early to avoid being locked out. The church was allowed up to 30 people (technically more, but I won't get into that). Some people were spaced out, gasp, with one pew separating themselves from others. They were promptly told to move to a gap of two pews before Mass could start. That was pretty awkward.
Mass was 55 minutes long. Approximately 26 minutes of that was chatter about COVID-19 and regulations. At the last second, we discovered that for those wishing to receive Holy Communion on the tongue, the priest was to wear gloves (to go along with his mask). They were super cheap hospital gloves that crinkled and touched the side of the mouth (without the priest knowing it). That’ll have to be the last Holy Communion we receive there for quite some t…

JP - Keepin' it Spiritual

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JP hits it out of the park with this one:



Picture Highlights from Bishop McElroy's 2020 Pentecost Mass for all Cultures

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Sometimes words are hardly necessary. Behold Bishop McElroy's 2020 Pentecost Mass for all Cultures. He is head of the diocese of San Diego.





Coronavirus - Polishing Teachers and Punishing Priests

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Friday, March 13
I remember going to the grocery store that night. It was during the days of the great toilet paper hoarding. Remember those days? As I walked through the store, empty shelves everywhere, I overheard one woman telling another person how much she hated teachers. The lady then looked up and glared at me – I think I taught her niece last year. Later at the checkout I met up with another teacher whom I work with. She was somewhat frazzled. The upcoming coronavirus shutdown, coupled with the anger delved out by so many people in town, was taking its toll. Quite frankly, we were the most hated people in town, and we knew it.

At the time the provincial teachers’ federation had announced sanctions on teacher work time. There was a contract dispute, and this was the response. For me, it meant I had to stop doing recess floor hockey with the students – a hurtful occurrence for the poor students (and myself). The sanctions were tone deaf to the max. Bickering over a contract while…

Trump and I have something in common...

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You’ve probably heard about how Twitter has ramped up their censorship on President Donald Trump. It’s almost as though a key election is coming up. For instance:
The censorship has continued now with Trump’s comments about the “thugs” inciting riots in Minnesota. This ramped up censorship is dangerous territory. Farenheit 451 and 1984 are no longer dystopian novels.

 If you are unaware, or unconcerned, by this then I have only two simple words for you: Wake Up! 

On a related note, look what Facebook just greeted me with:


This was a “Valentine’s Day card” I sent to my wife, publicly on Facebook, over FOUR years ago. It was a joke. People laughed. But not Facebook. Apparently Facebook has been going through my posting history and found this as a potential threat to “offline harm”. 

Very ironic, Facebook, that you would feel threatened by references to dictators. I guess it hit too close to home?

Raging over "The Picture"

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“The Picture” I speak of is that of a priest baptizing a child with a water gun. A section of the Catholic world blew up after seeing it. Even Fr. Z. had some strong words against it. Yes, I would hope that everyone realises that this picture is staged. At least I’m 99.9% certain the picture is staged (but you never know…).

Two comments on it.

First, from a parent perspective, an infant has a strange effect on fathers and mothers. A parent immediately gains a super-sensitive feeling of protection. Babies are so darn fragile (and cute!), and need extreme fortification. Even a pretend attack can be too much. For example, we have many Nerf guns in our house. Without thinking, we’ve had a child or two jokingly point one of the guns at the baby brother. Also without thinking, I have immediately lashed out, “Don’t point guns at your baby brother!” It’s just an internal parenting instinct. In the above picture there’s a priest pointing a water gun at the baby, while the parents smile. I would …

Bishop Albert Thevenot Updates his Marriage Social Distancing Policy

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A suitable subtitle to this is perhaps: blessed are the clean of heart. The updated policy included several explanations on how to clean a church building after someone has entered it. Physically cleanse it, I mean.

The local ordinary for my diocese, Bishop Albert Thevenot, made waves recently by stating that in his diocese a bride and groom had to stay 2 metres apart at weddings (and hence should not get married). Initially I wrote about it at OnePeterFive. However, when Phil Lawler and LifeSiteNews picked up on the story, it exploded.

Bishop Albert has issued an update. Fair is fair, and it behooves me to ensure people know that social distancing for the betrothed is no longer required. Thanks be to God. But first, some highlights from his letter issued May 22:

- “When attending a gathering indoors, you must register upon your arrival. Registration sheets must include printed name, phone number or email address. Remember to bring your own pen.” I think of how the name “Big Brother” a…

Pandemic Problems? We've Got a Saint for That

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Ask any devout Catholic what they like best about their faith and a reply of “the sacraments” will surely be a top answer. Unfortunately, if not maliciously, the sacraments are (mostly) unavailable at the moment. Yet if you ask a follow up to such Catholics about why they love their faith, surely “the saints” would be an eager secondary answer.

Though the sacraments be absent, the saints remain. For every COVID-19 crisis we face, or imagine, there’s a saint who has our back. They intercede, inspire, and, yes, even entertain. Here are some saints who can, and do, intercede for us throughout our pandemic problems:

While social isolation reigns supreme, the master of this craft is St. Symeon the Stylite. Unable to gain enough prayer time due to a following of devotees (he sounds like a parent at home with the children), he spent 47 years living atop a pillar - the last pillar being over 50 feet high.

If such isolation bores you to death, St. Paul is a suitable aid. His preaching, as relate…

Prince Albert Bishop: bride and groom must stay 2 metres apart!

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The other day I noted, with anger and sadness, that churches are closed while marijuana shops are open. I believe there is a connection. 

Behold a letter from our bishop. Of note: if a bride and groom want to get married, they would need to remain 2 metres apart. Therefore, they should not get married.

You hear that engaged couples? 2 metres apart! Always! Even on your wedding day! 



Yes, I think you need to be high to understand this. So you now can't get wed, but you can get weed. 
Better to join in marriage than burn, says the Bible. 


Nope. Better to burn a joint than marry.

Remember when We Believed in Subsidiarity?

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Today marks exactly one month since I last went to Mass or confession. It seems like forever ago. I remember how tense everything was. We showed up knowing it was going to be our last Mass. The writing was on the wall. It was a Wednesday night, but I figured there might be a good crowd at the Mass. It would be one last Mass before who knows what. Nope. I guess there were other things to do that night. I was just my family and three other people.

Yesterday was also a sad marker. It was supposed to be our eldest child’s first Holy Communion and confirmation. Again, nope. We have no idea when this will happen. I am getting more and more tempted to find a Mass on the “underground railroad” and simply have him receive his first Holy Communion.

We like to trumpet the 1992 Catechism whenever convenient. I will do likewise. From CCC 1883:

The teaching of the Church has elaborated the principle of subsidiarity, according to which ‘a community of a higher order should not interfere in the inter…

Susan from the Parish Council Has Risen - Truly?

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I once brought my young family to attend a Mass at a retirement home. In all honesty, it was a pitiable sight. Couches were dragged to form a circle, and the few residents in attendance sat mutely while the priest said the Mass on a small table in the center. There was a general aura of unresponsiveness to the Mass, and I half-wondered if at some point one of the residents would simply keel over and give up the ghost. Suddenly, an impressive miracle occurred. At the sign of peace, the elderly attendees burst from their couches, like the paralytic from his mat, and began dancing around the room to shake hands and hug each other. The Spirit-is-a-moving, as they say, and so were they. There is no sickness which the God of active participation cannot remedy.

With this in mind, I share the news that Susan from the Parish Council, the mighty womon of whom all priests and men without chests tremble before, has risen from the dead, as we knew she would. “Only the good die young,” says Billy Jo…