Today is the feast day of St. Francis of Assisi.

I really love this modern depiction of his whistling with a bird.

I was blessed to spend time in Assisi on two different trips. Once for several days during Holy Week. Joined a bunch of nuns on a procession one day.

Of course, the most memorable thing is touring the three different levels of the basilica, the Giotto murals in particular.

On that trip, the Church of St. Chiara (Claire) was closed for earthquake renovations. On my second trip, I made a point to go there. Sort of a disappointment. I was actually monumentally shocked by the picture of St. Francis cutting off Claire’s hair. What a metaphor! It was like the rape of the lock. Oh well.

Here is Francis’ motto. This tile hangs on my porch. Peace and Goodness.

Typically, the blessing of the animals at my church is such a joyful day. Lots of barking and meowing. One family from my neighborhood always brings their pet pig in a cute outfit. He is hypo-allergenic, so a good choice for their household.

I’ve taken a number of pets from 1880. Fun memories. Dolly has not been yet. Someone mentioned that when she is around lots of people and dogs what she really needs in an exorcism.

Today, there will be a pictorial blessing of the animals during the online service. We all sent in pictures. If Roxie and Dolly make a cameo appearance I’ll post a link.

I never intended for this space to be political. I was thinking photos and creative thinking.

It’s been a challenge this year in that regard. I didn’t watch the “debate” last night, but I did catch a lot of chaff this morning in various papers online. I do not know why I even opened them up. I should have just stuck with playing Scrabble online with my like-minded opponents after I finished the crossword.

I did get a good laugh out of, “I brought football back.” You must be very proud.

Of course he won’t condemn white supremacists. That’s his base.

He even gave the Proud Boys a motto: “Stand by.” Does that mean with long guns at the ready? I still don’t understand why grown men would call themselves “boys.” Or “proud.” I’m pretty sure pride is one of the deadly sins. Those folks and their president apparently skipped a lot of Sunday school.

And I bet Chris Wallace is tendering his resignation this morning or is on suicide watch. I sure hope the moderators who are scheduled for the two remaining events opt out. I do not like the USA’s being made a laughing stock on the world stage by the president of the United States. Yet again.

Back to the ball. I believe the good news of the day is that the NBA finals start tonight. If you can find anything uplifting to keep your eye on, do it!

I decided to read Bob Woodward’s second book about Trump partly because I’m bored to death here. Partly because I believe Woodward to be a meticulous and thorough reporter. And, foolishly, I hoped it might change the minds of how a few people would vote.

Naw. Everyone’s mind is made up.

I found the first 27 chapters to be mind-numbingly boring. Painful details about the men Trump chose to advise him. And how, one by one, he dispatched them, often pretending that he barely knew them anyway.

My interest was piqued in Chapter 28 when he began to write about Jared Kushner, who, it turns out, is even creepier than I imagined.

On February 8, 2020, Kushner advised others there were texts someone in a quest to understand Trump needed to absorb. Bizzarely, one was Alice in Wonderland where Kushner likens Trump to the Cheshire Cat. He paraphrased the cat: “If you don’t know where you’re going, any path will get you there.”

Terrifying.

My advice: Google Peggy Noonan to read how she is quoted in the book. She is an able and honest historian.

And, if you can do that, read the Epilogue. How to spoil a good mystery. Jump to the end and read the last chapter. Or just Woodward’s last sentence: When his performance as president is taken in its entirety, I can only reach one conclusion: Trump is the wrong man for the job.

How is it that I can say that when there is so much wrong with the world at the beginning of this new week? But it’s true.

It’s also true that I cannot see across the street because of smoke. But inside 1880, the air is pure. I can stay here safely. I am hearing from everyone who loves me, one way or another.

That is a very narcissistic way to begin a post. I know that.

So many people cannot breathe. Everything has been lost for them. Everyone knows someone who is infected with Covid. The homeless in the streets of my town are covering up with tarps. My neighbor gave birth at home. We are in terror because the most powerful man in the world is, well, terrifying.

That list is very long. But I will stop here.

I want to make another list.

I want to keep my heart full of gratitude. And hope. So, I repeat, inside 1880, the air is pure. I can stay here safely. I am hearing from everyone who loves me, one way or another. I just went to church online. I have clean water to drink and a freezer full of food, and a car full of gas, not that I plan to leave the house anytime soon. I have books to read and music to listen to.

I guess I am now sounding like your 3rd-grade Sunday school teacher. Deal with it. Your street may be filled with smoke, but do not let it into your heart or mind or spirit. Keep it full of gratitude and hope.

End of this Sunday’s sermon.

I have lived through a lot of extreme weather. I remember in Oklahoma when I was a little girl. The sky would get very dark. Almost green. Very quiet. Everyone would be looking for dark funnels. In the desert of West Texas, I can remember struggling to walk across campus to a college class in a sand storm. I remember a flash flood on Maui where the dry gullies filled up and over flowed.

We have very dark winter days here at the 45th parallel north. Sometimes with rain. Sometimes not.

Today is different. It’s just eerie. The sky was red. Then smoke dark. Now dark yellow. Everything looks sepia. Lots of wind. Branches cracking. Leaves still green blowing down. I’m indoors with all the windows closed and my air filtration system on the job. It looks like it should be cold out there but it’s hot. I’m keeping everything charged in case a tree limp hits in my neighborhood.

At 8 a.m. this morning, the smoke from the not-very distant fires was so thick that it was dark as night. I felt like the apocalypse has occurred and I had been lucky enough to sleep through it. Everyone is staying indoors. Eerie is the only word for it. I walked out back with the dogs and came right back in. They looked very puzzled and my eyes started to water. I can’t seem to take an accurate picture of the sky. My camera keeps “auto-correcting” it.

I wish we could auto-correct this whole year.