I went down to the town square at 9am to find out Subday mass times on the Internet. Met a poor chronic alcoholic, 50 years old named Daniel, who had been drinking all night in a nearby pub, had the shakes and was heading for a pub in a nearby town which opens at ten. He got off the drink for a year but his parents died and he went back drinking. He worked In Manhatten , New York for 20 years as a brickie foreman supervisor to 200 men. His real vocation though is song writer and recently sold a country and Western Song called Smith and Weston. For 68000 dollars. He nearly died in an accident in New York and net his dead father in heaven, standing outside a beautiful mansion. He told Daniel his time to due was not yet and he had to return. He told me my eyes were strange and asked if I was blind He kissed my St Benedicts cross and wandered away shaking like a leaf Poor man. Addiction is a terrible thing
Finish my week here tomorrow and move to another county tomorrow. For some reason the country song, sometimes the sun shines, sometimes it rains has stuck in my mind and keeps playing over and over . Watching a Doctor series at the moment, 8th season so it must be wildly successful The hero Dr Cross is a total atheist. He watches hard porn and hires hookers in his spare time. He is deeply unhappy and lonely . All the Doctors on his team are also atheists and also deeply unhappy. In fact the lot of them appear half mad to me. Sigmund Freud was once asked what the end game of psychoanalysis was. He replied that it was enable people to share in the general unhappiness of life. Faith has made me so very, very happy indeed. Sometimes indeed the sun may shine, sometimes I deed it may rain but I am always happy What could be better?
Moved to a new campsite this afternoon. Still no Internet. What a killer. I'm writing this post in a very old Church of Ireland graveyard late in the evening. The dead appear to need the Internet, but not the living as far as I cN see.
How strange. The only part of the village, or anywhere else round here on the Internet being the graveyard. It is gorgeous, maybe centuries old
Well due to the magic of a wonderful device called a ,'Dongle', I am back on the net from the middle of nowhere!! So happy!!
It was an elderly couple in a caravan bedside me told me about Dongles. I love talking to them. They always sit together,smiling. I wondered why they never walked, the wife is very ill indeed, I saw her struggling on a special Walkman, I suspect she is nearing the end. They have been coming to this site for 40 years now. Expert campers.
Just to say that dongles are older than time nearly as a student in the Internet age with no land line based Internet dongles were the only thing. You wil learn a lot now in your retirement
I I feel lik I feel like a time traveller from the 19th Century, if it were left to me we would be still using pigeons. Walking to mass in a little country town the other morning I was feeling crabby and dour. Then a ten year old school girl greeted my with a massive smile and the entire world lit up. Just a simple smile, I must smile more often.
I was thinking of a young hermit I used to know and who died a few years back,; Brother Vader. His name and appearance reminded me of a Vulcan from Star Trek. He lived in an abandoned village in County Antrim in a derelict cottage. It must have been very, very severe in the winter. Very penetential. In the East hermits are greatly admired, in the West I am afraid as rather like wasters or skivers. Such a pity, Brother Vader was very brave and superbly holy. I think of him as I struggle along with very small little problems camping. All Brother Vader had in the Hidden Village on his own was God, God, God. But that was enough and more than enough to do him. Great holiness.
Like the Desert Father's alone in their caves with God--and not infrequently the devil as well. The Little Brothers of Jesus (founded by Blessed Charles Foucault) in their entry to the order go off to the desert with enough food and water for 2 weeks. A priest celebrates Mass and leaves the Blessed Sacrament with the novice and for 2 weeks they are hermits with only Jesus there with them. If they survive that they proceed into the Brotherhood. I learned this from Carlo Caretto's letters From the Desert. A wonderful book written in the 1960"s. I wonder if it is still in print.
I didn't know until very recently there was a lot of supernatural mystical stuff surrounded Blessed Charles. In the East they are very open to such things, in fact they almost expect them. In the Modern West folks tend to be uneasy or uncomfortable with such matters.
There was a big country funeral yesterday at mass, a great grandmother who had ten children and who knows how many grand and great grand children. Listening to the account of her life, sickness and death was so interesting. The country priest did such a great job of it all and seemed to know them all. Touching, how terrible for people without Faith when the testing times come. We are all marked for death. All.
I am staying at a forest near an old Manor House called Parkanaur. It looks like the perfect set for a ghost film. They have a here's of white deer, the originals were donated by Queen Elizabeth I in 1580 as a wedding present to a couple in Mallow. I wandered around a very large bog nature reserve near here. A beautiful day. They are the only place in Ireland to have wood ants with three foot tall ant nests. The wood is almost as ancient as Ireland itself.
A friend from Liverpool who died many years ago has drawn close the last few days begging for prayers from purgatory. I liked him very much, but whilst alive he had abandoned the Faith totally. Like so many these days simply because he was not interested. The very sad thing is that very often when one person leaves belief their whole family does so too. So there is no one to pray for their souls. Please say a prayer for him. Poor, poor man. Purgatory is no joke. How blessed we are as Catholics to be constantly reminded of it.
I got back to the campsite this afternoon and there was no one there. Felt for the very first time a pang of loneliness, I had grown fond of the old couple with their wise advise. They were forever smiling. They said to me yesterday they hoped we would meet again, but I did not understand they were about to go. No heating in the caravan the last week but got the generator going this evening, so toasty!! Found a morning mass in a nearby village Church, they have a shrine to Our Lady of the Miraculous Medal!! Very surprising. Got a Great Grace this morning in getting some understanding that Our Lords life was one of constant suffering as of course was His Mother. How little I have to offer when my own is so full of constant joy. Really love doing the Stations of the Cross each day with Fulton Sheen. My brand new warrior rosary beads are my delight. Time is speeding up so much. Nearly two weeks camping already. I hope to make it to Our Lady's Shrine at Knock, but who knows? Camping is a delight but a challenge.
I saw the herd of White deer this evening beside the Manor House, in the Middle Ages the White Hart was a symbol of Jesus., Praying for Protestants everywhere. Poor people, they have only a shadow of a shadow of the truth. Read today of the trouble St Elizabeth Seton had in New York when she converted.
