Harvey Millican's Blog: Musings of a Trad Dad

I have written before of my love/hate with birds. I’m not ornithophobic ($0.75 out of my bank account right there). I think most birds are pretty and their tunes are sweet and all that. I’m sure they do something for the life cycle or something like that.

But over the past twenty years of home ownership, on a yearly basis, one or two of these little bastards decides he wants to make his home on my property. Since I am not a land baron that usually means I’m going to find a nest in my mailbox or something. I do everything in my power to prevent said nest building. I keep the mailbox closed tightly. I pull down strings and twigs from the gutter line. I tap out “Go away!” in Morse code from an old telegraphy machine I purchased for just this occasion. Finally, I sit on my front porch pleading with the little wren or cardinal to just leave me alone.

It isn’t that I don’t appreciate their skill. I’m always amazed that something with a brain the size of a pea can build a nest so perfectly and get past my above-mentioned security devices. No, in fact it’s just the opposite.

The real reason I don’t want them to start building is my bleeding heart. Once the nest is built and the eggs laid, I can’t bring myself to tear it down. That means I just have to wait it out a few weeks and then a few weeks more until they fledge – I had to look up all these bird terms – and then I’m left feeling empty. They eventually abandon me. They were always just using me. And not paying rent or taxes.

This morning while mowing the back 40 .04 I saw a robin swooping over my head. He landed on the section of drainpipe leading from the gutter into the patio tie-in. He landed on… A NEST!

Damn it.

I got up on a chair and stuck my phone over the top of the nest once the mother flew away and snapped the following.

See what I mean? Perfectly formed blue robin’s eggs. What am supposed to do with this?!

And they’ll leave me. They always do.

Lights cigarette and leans against the wall to mourn.

Who am I kidding? Next year there will be more.

And life goes on.

A good and holy bishop – there aren’t may these days – has gone to his judgment at the age of 102.

May he rest in peace.

In my line of work I get to meet a lot of fascinating people.

Today I got to interview a Purple Heart recipient.

God is so incredibly good.

This man has sacrificed so much and here he was sitting across a table in a studio with little old me so he could tell his story. An inspiring story it is.

As always, a key takeaway for me is that one should always stay confessed, obviously.

In your charity, please pray for my intentions as I always pray for yours. That sounded kind of, I don’t know, needy? You get the point. I just returned home with my son after celebrating his 18th birthday (where did the time go?!) and am grateful for so many things. As I began my own daily prayers today I began to be cognizant of so many more things for which I am bound to pray – family, friends, etc. I am most grateful for your prayers. The communion of saints is real, friends.

Our Lady of Good Counsel, pray for us!

And you would’ve thought we’d won the World Series by the crowd’s reaction. More importantly my son has a great time for his 18th birthday and more more importantly I got to hang out with my old pal Mr Met.

How blessed I was to find not only a TLM but a TLM on W. 37th St. in midtown Manhattan!

For those unfamiliar with the Big Apple, this location is literally in the heart of it all – a few blocks south of Times Square and a few blocks north of Herald Square. In fact, I myself have walked down this particular block of 37th St. hundreds of times in my life and had never even noticed the beautiful façade of the Shrine of the Holy Innocents.  for a 6 PM daily mass on a weekday, there were a fair number of people present. And true to form for the Latin Mass, these people represented all walks of life, but particularly those tending on the younger side. 

Praised be God because He gives us signs of hope like this. Below are pictures from inside the church. Take note of the beautiful description of the drawing of “The Return”.

If nothing else, the scent of burning incense used for Adoration just prior to Mass was a nice respite from the scent of burning cannibis that now seems omnipresent throughout the island of Manhattan. 

The current state of the Church and the world:

Come Lord Jesus!