The Seattle Chronicles: Day Seven

"He who ascends to mountain-tops shall find
The loftiest peaks most wrapt in clouds and snow;
He who surpasses or subdues mankind
Must look down on the hate of those below..."

(Lord Byron)

Today Shirley and I went to Mass at her parish in Bellevue. My former high school teacher, Dr Gundrum, gave the homily that day. Oh, I forgot, they can't call it a homily when she does it. They have to call it a reflection, since only the ordained can give a homily. Wasn't it Albert Schweitzer who once said that "verbal engineering always preceeds social engineering," or was it G K Chesterton? I dunno, maybe I'll ask her when I see her again. I'll admit, she was good at it. But still, if it walks like a homily, and talks like a homily -- I mean, come on!

Anyway, at the announcements, they called for volunteers to perform liturgical functions at the New Year's Eve mass on Tuesday evening. I signed up to be an altar server. I figure, hey, with 37 years of experience, what could go wrong? Of course, I also tipped off one of the good Sisters there. She thought it was a great idea. That oughta do it.

My cousins Theresa and David took myself and their kids to the Cascade Mountains, where there was plenty of snow, in stark contrast to the perpetual cloudy-and-rainy-day weather of the city. I couldn't keep my eyes from being wide open, looking at the majesty of God's handiwork. It was like seeing the Rockies for the first time two years ago when I was in Denver. But here we got closer, going to a skiing slope below Denny Mountain, one that was not fully operational. This brought out the sledders from hither and yon. I pulled little three-year-old Paul on his seat all over the parking lot. Really made his day -- that, and eating the snow. What a stinker. I only went down once, and spent the rest of the time helping the kids take their sleds up the hill. Just to live the experience through them, as children, as family, really made my day. We stopped by a waterfall on the way home, where David took my picture with it rushing in the background.

There was plenty of time left in the day. I spent some of it with Shirley, who was getting caught up on sewing (another Rosselot tradition). After that Paul Thorpe and I went to a little place called The Little Red Hen. It was a little unpretentious country-western bar, the kind of place I would have gone to back in Ohio. It was known for having very friendly people. I can get by in a C&W setting, but it's still just a bit out of my element. I danced about half the time. One dance was with the former "Miss Queen Anne Hill," a gracious woman, one who was still a queen in some respects. You gotta hand it to her.

During the second set, a lovely woman in a black leather jacket made her way to the stage. Nova and I met at the Tractor last Friday night. She remembered us talking about some bands we both knew. She plays a pretty mean accordion. I wanna do that too someday. I was moved by her performance with "Jerry and the Philbillies" -- enough for me to buy their CD. It has a lot of old country favorites. Maybe I can finally learn the words.

Tomorrow we head "from the mountains to the sea." Until then...