RSS, classes, Synodality, and Spenser

I have an unabashed love of RSS feeds and track about 40 right now. I used newsboat, which is a terminal client that works pretty well. If you like mutt, you'll like newsboat. It runs on my main workstation, though, so I found myself gravitating back to Feedly so that I could catch up on things when I wasn't sitting in my office. Somewhere along the way, I saw a reference to a self-hosted aggregator, and since my phone is tethered to the home network all the time anyway via wireguard, I figured I'd give it a shot. I looked at a few and finally landed on FreshRSS - mainly because I found a docker image for it and can run it on the NAS alongside HomeAssistant. Ten minutes later, I'm up and running. So far, so good. I like it! 

I'm more or less caught up with schoolwork. Grades are starting to come back to us, which is nice too. One final set of readings and an essay (Theodicy: Aquinas v. Anselm) is due before the next class but I'm ahead of schedule. Next week, I'm on deck to teach OCIA and will be doing Marriage and Morality (read: contraception, IVF, &c).

I also managed to step (along with my wife) into coordinating our parish's Synod-on-the-Synod activities, which should be interesting. The runway seems short - we need to have our summaries back to the diocese by the end of April - so the keys will be delegating as much as we can to individual ministries and school, hosting as many listening sessions as we can before the diocesean deadline, and ensuring bilingual access every step of the way.

Meanwhile, the temperatures are slowly climbing. The sun is out more and the days are getting longer, but we're still in that 60s-one-day-20s-the-next part of the year.  Spenser nailed it:

Therein the changes infinite beholde,
Which to her creatures euery minute chaunce;
Now, boyling hot: streight, friezing deadly cold:
Now, faire sun-shine, that makes all skip and daunce:
Streight, bitter storms and balefull countenance,
That makes them all to shiuer and to shake:
Rayne, hayle, and snowe do pay them sad penance,
And dreadfull thunder-claps (that make them quake)
With flames & flashing lights that thousand changes make.