Ruminations of an Amateur Monastic
Today my son, Tristan Andrew Ryng, was sentenced to 27 months in the state penitentiary. It was 105° today in Tacoma. Set a record, it did, six degrees higher than ever. I am very tired. Today, I looked into the eyes of a man who wished to murder me, and I could not gainsay him.
» Read moreSaturday was spent at Tacoma’s Ethnic Fest, an excuse for sampling foods from restaurants previously unknown and browsing through merchant kiosks of cultures entirely unfamiliar. Sunday was a surprise party for our pastor, Fr. Carmine Sacco, SJ. He was celebrating his 65th anniversary of becoming a Jesuit. No, that number is not a typo. He’s baptising the grandchildren of people […]
» Read moreI have not been posting much of late. Mostly it’s because I hate to whine to you. My job is killing me by inches, but I have a job, which is more than I can say of many of my friends. I’ve written not a word on two different stalled novels. And so it goes. And then there was today, […]
» Read moreAfter 128 days in hospital, my son went home to his mother’s house on Saturday. I meant to post this earlier, but I was hoping to include some photos I took of the day. I still haven’t uploaded the photos, so I figured I’d better post before too much more time has passed. Tristan can walk with the help of […]
» Read moreTristan was struck by an SUV while crossing the street in the early morning hours of last Saturday while I was in Pittsburgh. The driver left him in the road, where another vehicle ran over him. Only then did a witness to the second hit-and-run call 911. His pelvis was badly broken, both legs were damaged, his right ankle was […]
» Read moreI‘m approaching the end of my rope. I’m not there yet, but I’m sliding down quickly and some bastard’s greased the last few meters. Nightmares this weekend were the least of it. Tristan has a fantastic attorney, who’s cutting us a huge break in terms of payment. Between bailing Tristan out and making the first payment to the attorney, we’ve […]
» Read moreMy beard is going grey at an alarming rate. My last real photos were for the wedding, and I look like I’ve aged five years in five months. This may have something to do with Tristan’s plight. It does something to you after a while, when you keep getting these little reminders, whether it’s when I’m talking with Tristan, or […]
» Read moreSo. Tristan came home last night. I went to work for a two-thirds day while Tristan’s mother went through the bureaucratic nightmare that is bailing out an accused felon. This is, apparently, an all-day affair. He spent the night at our house. We talked until deep into the night. This morning, I made breakfast (perish the thought), and we went […]
» Read moreThis post should have been about my job. Or the garden. Or maybe the strange trip I had to Westport Connecticut. Or really, anything but this. Yesterday, Francine and I got back from Mass and had a little breakfast. She was going to leave at about noon to make some photocopies and teach a knitting class. My plan involved laundry […]
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