this has been the longest, craziest, most bizarre-o holiday week ever.

I am kind of looking forward to my life returning to normal. seriously.

I love weekends. Saturdays in particular. and I love it when it's SNOWING, and I love it when I'm ALONE, and I love it when I have nothing to do.

love love love.

I have become a total solitude junkie lately.

RIP, Samson.

I am sooooooo sad about this.

I never really understood when people grieved over the loss of a pet, but I think I get it now.

(yes, he was only a fish. but I loved him!!)

:(

I am aware of the many ways the Church has failed me, and I have failed her. Yet in the midst of these mutual failures, I claim this Church as mine. She is my Church, my home, my mother. I will not run away from her, for I have seen through the cracks of her frailty her tremendous splendor, her littleness and her greatness, her poverty and her wealth. I feel more fed than failed. Not everyone can say this, however, and so we are called to great sensitivity in this area. Together we have to accept both the burden and the grace of being Church. The Church is us. She is mine and she is me. She is yours and she is you. She is a home, a broken home, yes! Broken, because you and I are broken.

-Macrina Wiederkehr, A Tree Full of Angels