“Speaking of Paradise, St. Bernard says: O man, if you wish to understand the blessings of Heaven, know that in that happy country there is nothing which you would not desire and everything that you would desire. Although there are some things here below which are agreeable to the senses, how many more are there which only torment us? If the light of day is pleasant, the darkness of night is disagreeable: if the spring and the autumn cheer us, the cold of winter and the heat of summer are painful. In addition, we have to endure the pains of sickness, the persecution of men, and the inconveniences of poverty; we must submit to interior troubles, to fears, to temptations of the devil, doubts of conscience, and to the uncertainty of eternal salvation.
“But, after entering into Paradise, the blessed shall have no more sorrows. God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes. And death shall be no more, nor mourning, nor crying, nor sorrow shall be any more, for the former things are passed away. And he that sat on the throne, said: Behold, I make all things new.” (Apoc. xxi. 4)
First, I want to say a big thank you to a few people who brightened my day without even knowing it. First up, is the always awesome Nurse Claire who shouted me out in her blog. It is always humbling to know that the people you read are reading you too! Likewise, St. Louis Catholic gave me a mention in regards having shared the daily Liguori meditations recently. Happy to help, brother! And finally I want to mention Frank Walker of Canon212 who sent me a very kind note praising the quality of the loaf of bread I posted the other day. Wow! Three of my favorites peeping on little old me… I am truly grateful that anyone reads what I post, let alone people for whom I have great respect.
Another shoutout came from my sister in the form of a text. She said, “You’ve been phoning it in lately. Get back on your game.” She’s right. In fairness, I’ve been busy. And fasting. I’ll try to do better.
So let’s talk about that bread fast…
If you saw the bread a few days ago, you might think I am a master baker. Nothing could be further from the truth. Case in point, look at these:
Do you know what that is? It’s dough that over-fermented. I’m still getting back in the swing of something I never mastered in the first place. It’s a learning curve. I let it sit too long. I didn’t even know this was the “bulk fermentation” stage by name until this morning.
So what happens when the dough over-ferments? My instinct at 6:30 this morning was to cry, then throw the dough in the trash, then give up like the bitch I am. Then I remembered I am not, in fact, a bitch but a man who is in control of his emotions. I stepped outside, lit a smoke, and, while sipping my black coffee, said my prayers. Then I turned to our old friend ChatGPT.
You two haven’t met, yet? Let me introduce you. ChatGPT, or “Chat” as I call it, is a mentally retarded search engine on who’s daunting intellect the youth (and increasingly the supposed adults) of the world rely for answers to everything. Case in point, check out this basic search I ran just to see if the rumors were true.
No, Chat, the second option is never reasonable at all. You basically admitted that in the preceding sentence. Keep in mind, friends, that young med students are likely relying on this AI slop-monster to do their homework.
That being said, if one has a partially functioning brain in his head, he can reasonably sift through the nonsense and find a scintilla of useful information on this thing. Evidence the following:
Notice how it pleaded with me to basically come up with croutons of all things. Avian-IQ does not begin to describe this thing. But I did what it suggested and turned the garbage dough into this:
And honestly, it wasn’t bad.
So there you have it. I was distressed. My dough was a mess. AI urged me not to be depressed. Fellow bloggers mentioned me and I felt blessed. I’m going to vomit now for that terrible rhyme scheme.
New dough is currently in the works.
Finally, God gave me a beautiful sign in His creation of His love for sinful man.
The intricate pattern of this tulip in my garden (which I consecrated to Mary) is so magnificent and I truly am blessed by its beauty. God be praised!
Finally, finally… I just got this in the mail to assst me through the rest of Lent. (Trying to give up cigarettes.)
As a boy, knowing that my dad used Prince Albert religiously and having learned the old joke for the first time, I went to Dad and sheepishly asked, “Hey Daddy, have you got Prince Albert in a can?”
To which the old man, lowering the Wall Street Journal from in front of his face while simultaneously letting out a puff of his pipe, said:
I did say, to my credit, that I am hardly a pro at making sourdough.
That being said, almost immediately after posting my picture of the amazing looking loaf, I started to “shape” another loaf of dough in preparation to stick it in a banaton and throw it in the fridge for a few hours. Turns out I let it”bulk ferments too long and it was a sticky mess. I threw it out and started over. The problem with sourdough is that each cycle requires literal days to make.
Not a pro by any means but I think I’m getting the hang of this. Also note the empty butter dish in the background. Yes, it’s that kind of fast. But this bread goes nicely with a little olive oil, salt, red pepper flakes, and Italian seasoning.
Not sure why they’re standing in the sanctuary or why it’s a Novus Ordo sanctuary at that (table, piano, etc.) but this is beautiful and a prime example of wha the tried to take from us.
Folks, I got off all that social media nonsense a while ago. Sorry but I'm not on Twitbook, Facepalm, YouHu, WingWang or any of the others. Maybe an event will happen to make me change my mind like Peter and Paul coming down with flaming swords and commanding it be so. Until then, read the blog and if you feel a comment is in order or you feel like sharing a tip or suggestion for a topic, email me at harvey@harveymillican.com.
Harvey Millican's Blog: Musings of a Trad Dad 