ROME DAY 21: Doohickey, Spiffy Alley, and Flower Therapy

Sunrise 7:27. Sunset 18:19. Ave Maria: 18:30.

First things first.   Does anyone know what this doohickey is?

Especially for MA, who wanted to get in to see this church, Santa Maria in Aquiro.  This was one of the ancient diaconal tituli.   There are some digs associated with the place.  The church isn’t particularly remarkable.

 

The Pope healing a guy with the Blessed Sacrament in a procession.  That’s what we need.  Less chattering, no Pachamama, and lots more processions…. even in the Amazon.  Like the movie.

A Pope honoring Mary.  Pius IX in this case.

Stupid Altar Alert.

This is a niffy vicolo.   It links P.za Capranica (where the hoity-toity seminary is/was) and the Via dei Pastini.  It is hard to say how this little way got its name.  One story is that knight of legend, Roland, was going to break his sword Durandel so that the enemy Saracens couldn’t get it.  He slammed it into a column which was cut in half and, somehow, brought here to this alley.  I once wrote a bit of a fantastic story about this street.  I’ve always liked the name and weird explanations.

Santa Maria in Monterone is one of the little churches I sometimes pass on the way to the area with clerical shops.

I’ll let you guess whose hands this little church is in.

Not TOO Stupid Altar Alert.

Detached and moved.  It needs a little TLC.  Death looks on.

A nice old confessional.

Speaking of clerical shops.  Do you see that nice rose moire above?  That’s the fabric I chose for the black and silver vestments.

Now do you see that brick red fabric?

Do they look like the same color to you?

Later, even as I was trying to stop the steam from exploding out of my ears, I said a Mass in BLACK vestments, a sort of Dantesque contrapasso to my experience in the afternoon.

I was so angry that I bought new flowers for the window flower box in my apartment and transplanted them.  Sometimes doing thing like that helps to dispel the fury.

COLD REPORT: It’s gone.

ANGER REPORT: It’s boiling.

A friend arrives today, and he will have the spare room here until it’s time to head home.  The days are ticking down.

About Fr. John Zuhlsdorf

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11 Comments

  1. John V says:

    That item in the first picture is a soil moisture monitor.

  2. KateD says:

    Given the context, I was going to say at first blush it is somewhat reminiscent of an “ahso” wine opener, but the tines are facing the wrong way and those knobs at the end would prove an impediment….not that it would stop me from trying if it was all that was available and a cork desperately needed to be removed from a bottle…necessity being the MOTHER of invention…

    For future doohickey identification might I suggest a quarter for scale and a pic of the reverse side?

  3. iPadre says:

    A WiFi enabled torture tool used by Modernists. ;-)

  4. PostCatholic says:

    An electronic watered satin fabric dye fader.

  5. teomatteo says:

    a furi-o-meter.
    place two prongs into nares and a measurement of fire/incineration is determined, then log(f) to ones fury(f).

  6. Kathleen10 says:

    lol, these responses.
    At least now we know the answer to the age-old question of what’s black and white and red all over.

  7. Gab says:

    Red brick vs rose. Yup, I’d be angry too.

  8. The Cobbler says:

    The doohicky must be what Scotty uses to reverse the polarity of the neutron flow so that Master Chief’s laser beams stay valid in this modernist day and age, thus making it possible to take off and snipe Pachamamas from orbit (outside the range of the German Pseudoecclesial Defense Cannons).

  9. Suburbanbanshee says:

    So they are fixing the lining, right? At their cost, because it is their mistake?

    Sigh. Probably somebody else really did order a Dracula-colored chasuble.

  10. JPCahill says:

    1. The doohickey looks like the little electric thingummy my wife uses on her hair. I think it’s to make it wavey.

    2. If it’s any consolation, I sort of prefer the burgundy lining to the rose one. Still . . . not pleasant to have one’s instructions ignored.

    3. Seeing a church where there is just a “stupid altar” can sometimes be a consolation. So many churches have been irretrievably devastated that they would almost have to be rebuilt. But looking at something like this and hope springs: a dozen or so guys from the parish and we could get this sanctuary back the way it belongs in an afternoon! O.K., maybe two afternoons. But it’s do-able!

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