#first Friday

[fridaybear]

Ahhhhh, the first Friday of 2025. Hope you have a fantastic year and many fabulous Fridays and weekends ahead. As for us, we're glad to see 2024 behind us. Thanks for hanging with us. We appreciate you.

"Grizzly bear north of Obsidian Cliff" by YellowstoneNPS is marked with Public Domain Mark 1.0.

[floridaboiler]

[apesoformythoughts]

Solemnity of the Most Sacred Heart of Jesus…on a first Friday? In June?

[anastpaul]

First Friday of the Month: “I promise you, in the excessive mercy of my Heart that my all powerful love, will grant to all those who receive Holy Communion on the First Friday, for Nine Consecutive Months, the grace of final repentance; they shall not die in my disgrace, nor without receiving the Sacraments; my Divine Heart shall be their safe refuge, in that last moment.” — Our Lord to St Margaret Mary

(via First Friday, Day 8 of the Immaculate Conception Novena, Notre-Dame de Séez/ Our Lady of Séez, France (5th Century), St Nicholas and Memorials of the Saints – 6 December – AnaStpaul)

[ad-crucem]

“My Love reigns in suffering [and] triumphs in humility”

—Christ to St. Margaret Mary Alocoque

[tinyshe]

[myremnantarmy]

A holy day has dawned upon us.

Come, you nations, and adore the Lord.

Today a great light has come upon the earth.

[angeltreasure]

When I was waiting in the pew for confession on Saturday, this was in it in front of me. No one claimed it, so I read part of it and brought it home. I’m going to start this one this Friday. If I do, the Novena will end on the Epiphany!

[wronghandcomic]

First Friday doodles. I might turn these into a story sometime later.

[imaginedreamwrite]

First "I love you" for asylum Steve and his nurse

The dimly lit street below the asylum window was dusted with snow, a light flickering storm billowing in and out as December had encroached upon you. Garland had been hung above the windows to add some flair or something less depressing to the sad state of the building. In the middle of three windows was where you stood, watching the snow flying as the unit was quieted by sleeping patients.

Save for one.

You raised your hand and pressed your palm to the cool glass, feeling the heat from your palm contrast against the cold, and your eyes had briefly settled on a person over your left shoulder. He stood with a small wrapped box, something seemingly insignificant, and while he was barefoot as most patients had been, he put more effort into looking composed.

“I should say no, I should stay here.” Your heart flipped end over end, your stomach turning after you shifted to look at Steve.

He was wearing the standard uniform for the patients, a pair of unassuming slacks and a grey button-down that was as dreary as the walls here. He had been marred with a few cuts, a few scrapes given to him by the untrusting hands of the doctors.

“Don’t talk like that, sweetheart.” His voice was soft, his eyes warm despite the terror seeping through the walls. “You’re going to have fun.”

“Fun,” you scoffed at the idea, mirth unbecoming of you, “Steve I can’t leave you like this.”

“Yes you can,” Steve came toward you, meeting you in the midst of this quiet sitting room, “and I have a gift for you before you go.”

“Its not Christmas.” You replied with the beginnings of an argument. “You should wait until Christmas.”

“I have something for you then,” Steve set the box in your hands, cupping his hands over yours and integrating his fingers in with yours, “open it.”

Your fingers tugged on the wrappings, unveiling the simple box and further, opening the gift. Inside the box was a hair pin, something beautiful and decorated with a few pearls and a small shell at the end. It was simple yet gorgeous, a gift that meant to world to you as weeks earlier you’d mentioned how yours had been on the verge of being broke.

“Steve…” you picked up the delicate hair pin and turned it over in your hands, amazed at every detail, “how in the world did you get this?”

“It helps to have friends on the outside,” he continued toward you, his fingers finding the smallness of your waist and tracing the seam up and down to keep himself busy, “you have a safe trip, doll.”

“Steve,” you felt at a loss for words until you found your ability to compose words, and as you leaned into kiss him, the words fell naturally, “thank you…I love you.”

His hands trailed up your back, holding you steady and keeping your lips locked with his. “I love you too.”

[favulous-zerimar]

How long do you have to be in an art gallery to be considered art ?

[atlas9-official]

Kansas City natives and visitors, join us this Friday September 6th at 7pm at Mean Mule in the crossroads.

Weird stuff, cool stuff, free stuff.

[floridaboiler]

[joshuasimilien]

First Friday sights in Downtown Goshen.

[inshelliesworld]