moose-faw (a click of the mouse)

One brown mouse. (image by Flickr user: crwr)
moose-faw {mousetrap; Scots dialect}
Sub-title: “plans laid best”

Often, when meant to be on study for undergraduate exams, I found myself walking the library to track down pieces of prose. Several times, it was the work of Robert Burns kept me from what I ought ‘been doing…keen to find another hidden bit of truth.

Thy wee-bit housie, too, in ruin!
It’s silly wa’s the win’s are strewin!
An’ naething, now, to big a new ane,
O’ foggage green!
An’ bleak December’s win’s ensuin,
Baith snell an’ keen!
—excerpt of a poem by Robert Burns

So much to learn, so little time. Those were the good old days.

Now, the Internet puts a wider world at our fingertips. Not only is grammar made tidy, and translated texts lay side by side,

Your small house, too, in ruin!
Its feeble walls the winds are scattering!
And nothing now, to build a new one,
Of coarse grass green!
And bleak December’s winds coming,
Both bitter and keen!
—same excerpt,in Simple English

…but we can watch an animated Robert Burns, reciting the same song…and in the brogue, no less
(see lyrics [link], and see embedded video, below; or watch it here [link]).

So, I wake with “One Brown Mouse” (a a Jethro Tull song) tappin’ in my noggin, ready to tackle an old task, one which finds its fullness. It is a note to my eldest son, started many weeks past. I open the draft, begin a review, paring down familiar themes when…

…that old tune taps me on the shoulder, and I’m off on the chase.

A moment later, punching keys to find the lyric, I learn that the title of John Steinbeck’s novella, Of Mice and Men is taken from the Burns poem, excerpted above. And still, the song keeps me tapping along. No fretting over lyrics, either, because they are there in an instant…

Puff warm breath on your tiny hands.
You wish you were a man
who every day can turn another page.
Behind your glass you sit and look
at my ever-open book:
One brown mouse sitting in a cage.
—lyrical fragment from a Jethro Tull song

with a click of the mouse.

‘Tis lost in time that I might be
Oh aye, my lad, alake anee
for there is still so – much – to – see.

miracles minus mystery

I read a challenging supposition.

“…what if the whole water into wine thing is just a metaphor that you should turn something boring into a good time”

Well, what if, instead of seeing the water-into-wine story as a riddle to be solved…

Cana, as placed in historical atlas (1923)

instead of thinking the story accounts for a single, isolated instance of metaphysical magic or alchemy

we look at the fact that—during the days of Jesus’ walk on this Earth—Romans occupied Jerusalem, and…

anyone having “servants” and six stone water jars at the ready (see John 2:5) is also likely to have belonged to an entirely different social class (and possibly race) than Jesus or the folks he often accompanied.

Perhaps, caught up in the mystery himself, the scribe who later penned the personal account of the apostle John hoped to convey the relatively miraculous idea that—due to the influence of Jesus, his example of Love and Peace—those wealthy, upper-class folks at the wedding feast in Cana saw fit to go ahead and break out the good stuff for the un-entitled (who are likely to have been followers, finding benefit in seeking out or following Jesus).

Maybe this applies to loaves and fishes, as well. With Love, we share what we have and…

everyone has a seat at the banquet.