A few days ago she got stuck in ours when she attempted to enter it from the west. This evening she got stuck over at a friend's house. We would not have known but she missed curfew and she had the foresight to text Mrs ERJ once she knew she was likely to be late.
Belladonna is a coachable kid. I think the idea of "preparedness" is snapping into focus for her.
The theme of this week has been "Wisdom".
We had a discussion between "intelligence" and "wisdom". Intelligence is information that is bounded in time. That is, the meat-and-potatoes of "intelligence" is perishable information. It is knowing which restaurant sells the best Philly Cheese Steak.
Wisdom is information that is not perishable. Whether it is packing a second pair of muklucks in the kayak or a pair of winter boots in the minivan is not the key point. The key point is to have a backup plan that involves functional items.
The three readings at Mass yesterday also revolved around preparedness. The Gospel reading was the segment of the Sermon on the Mount starting at Matt 5:17. There are about four vignettes that have striking parallels. Authors use parallelisms when they are trying to emphasize some over-arching metamessage. The metamessage in Matt 5 is that we are responsible for the possible/logical/foreseeable consequences (of our actions) that might occur.
Getting into a shouting match with your brother might result in things getting out of hand, fisticuffs and possible death of your brother. Entertain "coveting" thoughts about a woman and you have already decided that adultery is "OK". Divorce your wife and she may have to turn to prostitution to live.
Preparedness and Wisdom are siblings. They share the same foundation, that we are responsible for possible/logical/foreseeable consequences that might happen.
Preparedness
I have to commend Belladonna for having the foresight to get stuck in driveways where there are knights in shining armor. Not that she needs one.
Boots
Boots get special mention in today's post. Boots are where the rubber hits the road (or snow or mud or rocks).
Mrs ERJ's Uncle Bob died back in December. He was 89, knew it was coming. As a good, Christian man he was ready when the time came. It was not a bad way to go.
His remains were cremated and he will be interred in a cemetery in Mobile, Alabama on March 3. Mrs ERJ will be attending while I keep the home fires burning.
Mrs ERJ had a conversation with the Cemetery Director today. The grounds are a soupy mess. He highly advised that participants wear boots rather than high heels.
The fashion question of the day is, "Should Mrs ERJ wear her Swampers, Red Wellies or Uggs?"
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