Dear Maggie –
Why does it seem like there’s not so much going on in February, and yet at the same time, I feel busier than ever and like I’m dropping the proverbial balls all over the place?? I even look over the school newsletter and think, “That’s not so bad — I got this.” And then five minutes later I’m like, AHHHH! OK, so maybe that’s more of a philosophical question — or possibly just a statement on the current state of my brain. But truly, how are we in Lent already?!? It snuck up on me this year, and I feel less prepared than usual, but I really want to try. So what I guess I really want to know is — do you have any Lenten suggestions for me as we start out these next 40 days — that also might calm the mind and nerves?
– Repentant Rebecca
Dear Repentant –
First of all, welcome to February: the month where absolutely nothing is happening… except everything. The start of Lent sneaks up on a lot of us (yes, even saints!).
It’s cold. It’s gray. It’s somehow 19 school days long. And Lent just materializes out of nowhere like, “Surprise! Time for self-examination!” I swear I was still mentally in Advent mode. I’m fairly certain there is at least one Christmas tub to be packed away, still lurking in my basement, judging me. And yes — every year people say, “Lent is SO early this year!” (or late) and every year Fr. John smiles politely and reminds us that it is, in fact, roughly the same time as always, but no one thinks that’s right.😀 I choose to ignore this fact because it does not support my narrative of being spiritually ambushed.
Now, we Scots know a bit about repentance. We literally invented the “repentance stool” in the 1600s. Nothing says “growth opportunity” like public seating with consequences. But I’ll leave the heavy spiritual lifting to Fr. John. Anyone who heard his homily yesterday knows about his excellent suggestions to give up complaining, being selfish, and saying harsh words about other people. Those are way better than I could have come up with! (And probably a lot harder!)
Instead, I offer you a coping strategy.
The Fish Fry.
Listen. Lent does not have to be 40 consecutive days of spiritual doom. It can also be 6 Fridays of fried joy. Better still, this tip is not about giving up anything. It is a perfect melding of my Scottish heritage and upbringing, and something that feels so St. Louis at the same time. Here in St. Louis, fish fry season is not a side activity. It is a civic sport.
Of course, I am biased — the premier event is our very own Feastie Boys Lenten Fish Fry at St. Margaret of Scotland. Tickets just went on sale – and trust me, they won’t last long! If history has taught us anything, it’s that they will vanish faster than my Lenten resolve when someone offers me Thin Mints. Run. Don’t walk. Sprint in a modest, penitential fashion. (And if you want a little backstory on the whole Feastie Boys thing – and how that got started – you can check out my column from 2024.)
But after securing your SMOS tickets (priorities, Rebecca), branch out! The Archdiocese of St. Louis even publishes a fish fry map every year. A map! For fried fish! If that’s not evidence of divine favor, I don’t know what is. (We’re still waiting for our entry to be approved – we wanted our folks to get the first shot at tickets before it goes out to the public.)
Back in my day, the fish was dried, not fried. Finding a decent “Fish Dry” (doesn’t really have the same ring, does it?!?) involved three days of travel, questionable weather, and a strong jaw. Now? Crispy cod, hush puppies, slaw, maybe even a vegan option if you’re feeling wild. We are living in a golden age.
Here’s my real advice: plan it. Put the Fridays on the calendar. Give yourself something joyful to anticipate. There is something remarkably calming about knowing that no matter how chaotic the week has been, there will be fried food and good old-fashioned Catholic fellowship waiting for you at the end of it.
Now, I must go. Malcolm is building a comparative spreadsheet ranking batter texture, side offerings, and fry crispness year-over-year. He claims it’s “data-driven devotion.” I call it competitive fasting adjacent. He’s currently waiting for me to finish combing through St. Louis Magazine for their recommendations so we can optimize our route. And of course, if I don’t plot it all out, we end up missing something great – and it’s always my fault. 🙄 Marriage is beautiful.
Rebecca, if planning fish fry outings brings you even five minutes of peace, that counts. Lent is about intention. Also tartar sauce.
Bon appétit — and may your proverbial balls remain airborne.
– Maggie
