Cemetery Crosses

Last Sunday dear hubby Eddie and I went out for an exploratory drive, something we have been wont to do lately. On this occasion we drove to another nearby Chicago suburb, Des Plaines. Now, it used to be that the pronunciation of this town ("dess planes"; that is, both of the letters s are pronounced) bugged me, since the name so obviously is French. However, once I realized that trying to prounounce it in the French way but with an American accent would produce something that sounds like what Tatu used to say in the series Fantasy Island as the aircraft carrying their new guests approached ("Deh plane, deh plane!"), I came to accept the Midwestern pronunciation of the town, and I'm even starting to become fond of it, actually.

So one of the things we discovered on this drive was the All Saints Catholic Cemetery in Des Plaines, Illinois. (Funny how the s in Illinois is silent.) Visiting graveyards is something Eddie and I enjoy occasionally; they are usually very peaceful, and it's interesting to read the names and wonder what all these people did when alive -- and it's kind of fun to think we will meet a lot of them in Heaven one day.

At this particular graveyard it seems that cross-shaped headstones are the dominant style. We were intrigued, as we have a small cross collection (mainly wall crosses) of different types at home. There are crosses in this cemetery of all sizes and styles (though not of all shapes, since they are cross-shaped, after all, heh heh). I'd never seen anything quite like this in any other burial ground, and I took some photos so you, gentle blog reader, could get the gist of what it is like.

This last picture is a shot of the door to one of the mausoleums at that cemetery, which I found quite beautiful.

Baseball Movies ... and Magic

I have this "thing" about baseball movies: I love them!

The thing is, I'm not a huge baseball fan. I've never been to a professional game; don't know if I've been to any games, actually, since my dad dropped out of his softball league when I was a small child. I currently live in a metropolitan area that is home to two major league baseball teams, and yet I don't particularly support either one of them. Okay, if hard pressed I'd probably choose the Cubs, since I do have a couple of uncles over in Indiana who love the Cubbies and no relatives (that I am aware of) who root for the White Sox. But I follow about as much baseball in the news as I do any other sport -- which is to say, none.

So what's the deal with me and baseball movies? In the last couple of years I have seen and enjoyed a bunch of them, and we now own three: 61*, Field of Dreams, and A League of Their Own. (Okay, I confess, I don't actually own that last one yet, but I do have it on order from my used dvd swapping club and hope to hold it in my sweaty little paws very soon.) Our dvd collection at home is not at all large, and I don't believe there is any other theme on which we actually have three films. Why baseball? It's a mystery.

What made me reflect on this was that I watched Field of Dreams again last night, after having seen it for the first time a couple of years ago. A marvelous movie! It got me thinking about magic -- the good kind, the kind that leaves you tingling with wonder -- and about how we as adults are so quick to scoff at even the idea of such a thing. And how, thinking it silly, we stop thinking about it at all, and then we stop noticing it happening ... and pretty soon we are complaining about the dullness of life in general. Hm. Maybe I'll start trying to remember to look for a little more magic during my day. I'm pretty sure it's happening all the time, all around me.

In the meantime, if there are any baseball-themed movies you'd like to recommend, don't hesitate to leave a comment below. Play ball!