3:17 a.m. I have more or less finished working on Prayerbook #3 for today, though no one who found them would probably understand how they could possibly be prayer books. It is probably safe to mention them here. Ha. Primarily, at the beginning of these Mead five star, 51/2 x 31/2 "fat lil' notebooks" I jot down passages from psalms which I read regularly, one a day. Fred and I do the cycle together; today (yesterday now, the 26th) we are on #142. When we get to 150 we start over. In any case, copying a verse helps thinking about it. Etc. that is the front of the notebook. Twenty to thirty pages in, each little notebook contains 200 sheets or 400 pages.
In the rest of the book, I cut out daily comics, primarily Mutts, and tape one per page. Lately I haven't missed any; however, today also included "Blondie" and Dagwood's experience with their dog, Daisy. Almost all the strips have to do with animal/human relationships with Earl and Mooch being at the center, and sometimes Earl's master/owner Ozzie whom Earl truly loves.
I should say first that I love making notebooks and have been doing it all my life. The first one I remember also has a comic subject. My favorite comic when I was very very young was Alley Oop. It came in the comics page of Tiffin, Ohio's Advertiser Tribune. Once my parents were done with the paper, I got to cut the comic out and punch holes in the left side and then put it on large notebook rings. I used hole reinforcers to keep the strips from tearing when I reread them. Honestly, I still remember the joy I got from anticipating the paper to read the latest installment of Alley's adventures. At that time I did not know Doc Wonmug was a translation of his German counterpart, Einstein. Thanks to our computer Internet technology, I still read Alley Oop, as it is sent to me, along with a number of others not in our local papers. I think Oola was probably my first real love in this world, and she still may be. In any case I love making notebooks.
There are a number of other elements in the Mutts/Prayerbook aspect that allows them to be prayer books, the primary aspect being love. I love our dogs and that love is always available in the substance of the comics. Earl loves Ozzie and Ozzie loves Earl. Earl and Mooch have an endearing and enduring friendship. I too have a great deal of affection for Earl, especially the way he is drawn. McDonnell is very good in bringing out expressions of emotion with simple clear lines. Needless to say, I suppose, I see Simon in Earl. I also like the way little things tie into big things so to speak. Loving a character in a comic strip, reflects my love for Simon and our other dogs, going all the way back to our first dog, Biscuit, which we rescued from the animal pound in Athens, Ohio about two weeks after our marriage in 1966. A number of elements in the strip then reflect my relationship with our creatures, reflect my relationship with God. Little things, big things. Things in the world, comic strips, Simon, Schuster, Frollie, Dexter. Especially Simon, and before him Pookie, and so on.
About a week ago, perhaps, the Richmond Register which reruns the Peanuts comics ran the Sunday story about Snoopy and his supper. The panels dealt with Snoopy anticipating and receiving his supper bowl full of food, eating it and then reflecting, "to think that this is the highlight of my day." The bowl is empty and he is lying with his back to his dog house, I think. The connection here is especially with Schuster. I cut out one panel not too long ago that had Snoopy singing and dancing to "suppertime." That especially is Schuster. He knows when it is time; he comes to the kitchen to urge me on, when I am fixing his bowl, always the first of the four, he will whine a bit and jump on my leg from behind, but just once. He loves suppertime and I love him loving suppertime. As in Casey, the outside reflects the inside and thus the world coheres, or at least my world does.
It is fair to say that the act of making the notebook is an act of love that is again both horizontal and vertical. I read Cul-de-Sac and Tarzan every day too, but with those comics the experience is primarily horizontal, no note booking involved, so to speak. The act of putting strips in the fat lil' notebook, however, leads to the vertical as well, for with my hands occupied with tape and paper my mind is free for other things, like walking to the restaurant. In any case, thus my "Prayerbooks."
I should have a picture of Earl for the home page, but I started this entry to have a place to put up a picture of another love: Mary's springtime azaleas. Oh my goodness. The weather has kept them fairly fresh, Mary has pictures from the garden at my request, a new lavender bush has just burst fully into bloom, and they are all gorgeous, and I think I am beginning to understand the interior aspect of the exterior world as Casey is defining it. The interiority of Mutts was easier to grasp than it is with the azaleas, no matter how long I stand there, but love and beauty are at the heart of the exercise here too.
Once again today's trek has come to a close, though one of the joys of it has yet to be described. I was at the bottom of the driveway with that all-important paper when I heard a bird song coming from off to my right. A song I had never attended to before. The bird was close. I finally found him in a nearby dogwood tree, singing his heart out, it seemed. It was, of all birds, a robin. Suddenly as I became aware of the source, I also became aware of answering songs from around the neighborhood. Robins, like the azaleas, seemed to be everywhere and it was good.