Angels bring us great help and consolation, Pope Benedict reminds.
His Holiness is quite right.
I had recourse to my guardian angel yesterday. A co-worker was having a rough day. I asked my guardian angel to conspire with her gardian angel to pray together to God that some peace and joy enter her life. And not 10 minutes later, her sad expression had been replaced by laughter.
Today is one of my most favorite feast days - the feast of St. Michael the Archangel.
Amen.
Yahoo News: Researcher finds tiny dino in world of giants.
Yahoo News: New Mozart piece of music found in French library.
Two weeks ago, I went to the furniture store and laid out some money. Finally, today, the delivery truck came and two young men carried in and set up my new love seat and sofa. They look pretty nice, I must say.
Blog posts have been and will probably continue to be sparse for a while yet. I need to focus on some private matters for a while. I’ll be back to blogging as soon as I am able.
This is just too darn cute. A baby moose plays in the sprinkler.
“Ladies and gentlemen, the American presidency is not supposed to be a journey of self-discovery.”
Samuel Adams Honey Porter is Jim Koch’s version of an English-style robust porter. The label touts a roasted malt flavor, traditional English hops, and dry-hopping with English Goldings hops. The interesting thing about this beer is that it is brewed with Scottish Heather honey.
It pours a dark brown color with ruby highlights, with a french-vanilla colored head. The head is substantial, and the lacing is excellent. There is a nice floral aroma, and the beer feels substantial on the palate. The initial taste is very nice, but there is a hint of a spicy bitterness at the finish that I found moderately unpleasant. I actually couldn’t tell whether it was a slight excess in hop bittering that bothered me, or whether it was a characteristic of heather coming from the beer via the honey.
A good, but not great, beer. I’d drink more.
Surge of ignorance, indeed. I love it when someone rubs the New York Times’ editors smug, arrogant noses in their own wrongheadedness.
Happy Feast Day!
