Tag Archives: fear

Go To The Light…No, Wait, DON’T!!


I don’t know…am I the only one who is a little worried that I won’t be able to trust myself to NOT look at the much-anticipated solar eclipse? All along, I’ve been reading on social media and listening on television and radio about making sure to have the correct kind of glasses for viewing and where they can be purchased. And all along, I’ve been thinking to myself, Oh yeah, those people had better make sure they have the right glasses, because we’ve been warned over and over for weeks now that the correct and safe eyewear for this event is a VERY special pair of glasses requiring some effort to obtain and that absolutely, UNDER NO CIRCUMSTANCES should we attempt to make our own viewing box with a pinhole through a shoebox. And also all along, I have been totally on board with all of the precautions because my whole life, I’ve been hit over the head with the warning about how dangerous it is to look at a solar eclipse without the proper glasses. I’ve never questioned that wisdom, though I have to admit that I don’t ever recall being in a solar eclipse situation before. EVER. I mean…I’m sure there have been such occurrences in my lifetime, but my mother must have safely stashed me under a bed at the time, or something. I don’t know.

I commented to my husband just last night that I’m predicting a LOT of people are going to suffer eye/vision damage as a result of this phenomenon. But here’s the kicker…this morning as I was pondering how amazing it will be when at 1:37 (or whatever – I did check the time that the eclipse will be at its peak in my area) and suddenly came to the frightening realization that I might not be able to control the dark urge inside me to look at it. When darkness falls, I can envision myself saying, Oh if you just peek out of the corner of your eye, you’ll be fine. And now I’m pretty scared because I’ve checked everywhere and there are NO glasses available for viewing ANYWHERE and I just don’t know if I can trust myself. So, I may very well be one of the idiots who thinks my eyes are super-hero caliber. Here’s to hoping I don’t test that unlikely theory, but I just don’t know. I might… 😈

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They’re Heeeerrrre…Invasion Of The Cicadas

cicada2I suppose I should text my son, Mike, to warn him about this post before it gets published. I wouldn’t want him to accidentally to read it without notice. Because, I’m pretty sure he reads my stuff. He says he does, anyway. Due to a series of unfortunate events, Mike has an almost debilitating fear of winged creatures. In order to fully comprehend the crippling panic he experiences upon being confronted on the street, along the magnificent lakefront of Chicago, or even on the page of a blog, I would direct you to a prior post, published 5/25/2012: Survival Of The Fittest…Or Why I’m An Indoorsy Person (https://boxwinebudget.com/2012/05/25/survival-of-the-fittest-or-why-im-an-indoorsy-person/)

Anyway, this most recent encounter with a horrid member of the animal planet happened just last Saturday. The day started out as most of our Saturdays do, with a stop at Caribou Coffee and a leisurely stroll down Third Street in Geneva, IL. My husband and I have been enjoying this ritual for several years now, the last couple years with our youngest daughter, Mary Kate along for the company. She has since left the security of home and Saturday morning coffees to begin a new chapter in her life at college. But, enough of her… This story is about me and the near-death experience I, ummm…experienced.

So, after a relaxing saunter down Third Street, we headed a little further south to a Farmer’s Market to say hello to our neighbor and friend who sells great hot sauce and salsa (http://www.slapyousilly.net/) Next stop was to pick up a few items at Fresh Market for some scrumptious dinners we had planned. When does this story get scary, you ask? In about two inches… Upon starting the car to head home, I notice something absolutely gigantic on my husband’s sleeve. It was just below the shoulder and took up the majority of his short sleeve. At first, I tried to make some sense out of it. What was it? Was there some sort of label or patch on his sleeve that I hadn’t noticed before? While my brain was feverishly at work, the car pulled into traffic and it was then that I understood. We had stumbled into the midst of some sort of Sci-Fi alien creature invasion. I tried to gently warn my husband that there was an enormous beast on his arm without startling him, but it came out sounding something like: “AAAHHHHHH”  Well, something like that, anyway. Managing to avoid a collision on the road, he frantically brushed it off his arm. And that’s when things got really ugly. This prehistoric creature FLEW across the car towards ME and landed on my ARM REST. I hope you’re noticing all the capitalized letters, because I really mean them. Safely strapped in with my seat belt (I may never wear one again), I managed to practically jump into the driver’s seat which wasn’t easy, let me tell you. But adrenaline is an impressive thing.  My eyeballs must have looked like two golf balls attached to my face as I quickly took action slamming my purse on top of the freak. I pressed with all my might, not letting go until the we were safely home & the car door opened. Logic dictated that this thing had to be crushed and beyond any possibility of retaliation, but my gut said otherwise. Fortunately, logic won.

What was this thing that had so terrified me and was almost the cause of a multi-car crash and also possibly a divorce? A CICADA. That’s right. One of those disgusting things that comes to life every few years to terrify we peace-loving people. My heart is still racing just writing about it. I hope this awful incident doesn’t make us re-think our weekly Saturday ritual. Mary Kate made us promise that after she left, we would continue to go for coffee while listening to The Swing Shift on WDCB radio. We have to…for her sake. Otherwise, the cicadas win.


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Could You Use A Miracle About Now?

I came across something a while back as I was paging through a great book called “Saintly Advice” (who couldn’t use some of that?) and it occurred to me that there are probably a lot of people out there now who might find some comfort in these words.  So, I decided to share it with you, along with my thoughts.  It is an intercessory prayer to the Infant Jesus of Prague.

The story that accompanies this particular intercession is this:  A statue of the Infant Jesus wearing a long gown and holding a bird in his hand was carved sometime in the fourteenth century  It found its way to Prague where, in 1628, a young priest found the statue in the ruins after the Saxons and Swedes invaded.  He cleaned the sculpture and noticed that the Divine Infant’s hand needed repair, but he had neither the money nor the skill to do it.  He asked the Blessed Mother to help provide funds.  A man then passed by the church and fixed the statue’s hand, and great miracles were reported after the repair.  Because of its history, the Infant Jesus of Prague can be called upon when emergency funds are needed.  The prayer is as follows:

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