Adam went out to the shop and heard birds. Which would be fine — except the shop has closed-cell spray foam insulation. Thick stuff. Solid. Apparently it doesn't matter, because the birds had been pecking through it anyway, six spots deep, living inside the walls like they owned the place. He grabbed a can of expanding foam, took his six-year-old Leo out to help seal the gaps, and watched Leo immediately stick his hand in the wet foam. It went everywhere. On Leo. On the shop doors. On a previous car that is now long gone. If you've ever tried to wipe expanding foam off anything, you know how the rest of that goes.

He opened the show with that story. Then Jim Spencer showed up — back after a long hiatus, cowboy hat on, ready to weigh in — and they cracked a bottle of Kilchoman's 14th Edition, an Islay scotch that doesn't get the attention of a Laphroaig or Ardbeg but probably deserves it. A $110 bottle. Jim put it at a 3.91 on the yummy scale (it was a prime number recording day, so that's out of 7 — work it out yourself). They all agreed it was legitimately good.

Before getting into the main topic, Dave gave an update on Baby Mary. She's been on a paralytic to help her grow, and they're trying to wean her off it. She tolerated the second attempt better than the first, but not well enough. They'll try again Monday or Tuesday. Pray for her blood pressure to stay stable when she comes off, and for her heart and lungs to stop fighting the ventilator. Dave said it directly and without dramatics, and that's the right way to hear it.

The episode is about the dinner table. Not as a feel-good idea — as a liturgy.

Adam had done a piece on this for his Substack: what makes a good day? Not an emotional high. A good day. He landed on three things: early morning prayer and reading, honing his craft in some way, and making it to the dinner table. They spent the hour unpacking why that third one carries so much weight.

Dave brought in the biblical thread — Abraham hosting God and the angels, Moses eating with the elders on the mountain, the Passover meal, the Last Supper, Christ asking for fish in his glorified body just to show the disciples he wasn't a ghost, the Road to Emmaus where he revealed himself in the breaking of bread. The pattern is not subtle. God keeps showing up at tables. There might be something to that.

Adam made the distinction between communication and communion. A lecture is communicative. The dinner table — done right — is a place of communion. The giving and the receiving. The statement and the response. That's not an accident. It's what the table is for.

They got into the practical mechanics: one conversation at a time, husband and wife starting the conversation before the kids are brought in, ending dinner with prayer for the souls in purgatory, the escalating formality through the day (breakfast is just survival, lunch gets the flowers on the table, dinner gets the candles). Dave's daughters were wearing hoop skirts on the grass at the contra dance they hosted the night before. He mentioned a Clear Creek inspiration — the monks don't even sit at breakfast. He's pondering it. Adam is not.

The story that landed hardest was from Alabama. He and Dave were on their way to EWTN — they recorded an episode in Mother Angelica's office, and Adam has video of Dave in makeup, which is apparently a treasure. They had dinner at the home of a man named Charlie Remore, a friend of a friend they'd never met. Large family. Long dinner table. Every child had a job, and they knew it cold. One managed silverware, one managed plates. When dinner ended, one stood up and cleared. Adam tried to stack the plates to help, and Charlie's kid corrected him — politely, but clearly. Don't stack the plates. We have to wash both sides. That's my job.

That's disinterested service. The Catechism (CCC 2223) actually names it. Charlie's household had made it habitual. No one was waiting for a thank-you. The family is the mission.

The picky eater section was, as promised, a hot take. Adam doesn't tolerate it. Eat what's served or it goes in the fridge and that's what you're eating next time. He said it, Dave agreed, and they both acknowledged it's hard — the chicken nuggets are right there, it's easier, you're tired — but the long-term cost of caving is worse than the short-term cost of holding the line. Your kid spreading butter with their fingers in your presence, knowing the rule, is an event that requires a response. Even when it happens to be this morning.

After dinner prayer. Pray it. For the faithful departed. It's been jettisoned by most Catholic families, including strong ones, and it shouldn't be. You're feeding those who can no longer feed themselves. That's what it is.

Raise your glass.

TOPICS COVERED

Birds pecking through closed-cell spray foam — and why Leo is now microdosing industrial chemicals
Kilkeman's 14th Edition Islay scotch: Jim Spencer's 3.91 on the yummy scale (out of 7 — prime number day)
Baby Mary update: weaning off the paralytic, prayer request for blood pressure stability
What makes a good day — Adam's three metrics: morning prayer, honing the craft, the dinner table
God keeps showing up at tables: Abraham, Moses, Passover, Last Supper, Road to Emmaus, the glorified body asking for fish
Communication vs. communion — and why the dinner table is the latter
Dave's contra dance at Niles Ranch and Fecundity Farm — live violin, Jonathan and Jessica Hodge, Becca Niles, ~20 adults, a lot of kids
Jonathan Hodge's classroom liturgy: "Why are we here? To learn from the great men and women who have come before us."
Adam's daily school drop-off call and response: "Today's a great day" / "To be a great saint"
Charlie Remoure's table in Alabama: disinterested service in a large family done right
One conversation at a time — why the loudest voices always win in a free-for-all, and why that's not the goal
Husband and wife start the conversation before the kids — the table as marriage prep for your children
Escalating formality: breakfast informal, lunch flowers, dinner candles
After dinner prayer for the souls in purgatory — and why it's been quietly dropped by most Catholic families
Picky eaters: Adam's position, the fridge play, and why every picky eater somehow likes chicken nuggets

REFERENCED IN THIS EPISODE

Charlie Remoure — dinner host, Alabama; friend of a mutual friend; large family with exceptional dinner table culture
Jonathan Hodge — teacher, Tulsa Classical Academy; contra dance musician; Jonathan Hodge's classroom liturgy
Jessica Hodge — violinist, piano teacher to the Niles kids
Becca (Dave's sister) — violinist
Little House on the Prairie: The Long Winter — Laura Ingalls Wilder
EWTN — mentioned in passing (recording trip, Mother Angelica's office)
The Catechism of the Catholic Church, para. 2223 — disinterested service
Deuteronomy 6 — instruction of children "when you sit in your house"
Clear Creek Monastery — mentioned re: standing breakfast, monastic order
Father Ketterer — shout-out listener
Matt — listener, North Dakota, protecting the northern border
Gage — listener, home from deployment, birthday shout-out

Sponsor: Select International Tours — selectinternationaltours.com Adam and Dave have used them. When they decided to lead their first pilgrimage and started asking around, Select was the name everyone gave them. Whether you want to lead a pilgrimage or join one, they're the real deal — go see what they've got.