I'm off to Pacem In Terris today! I am very much looking forward to being in the woods, in the silence. And I don't care one bit that the hermitages do not have air conditioning!
I wonder what will be unearthed?
Friday, June 15, 2007
Sunday, June 03, 2007
friends share
Tally (our 18 month old) and Annie (our dog) are good friends.
Tally shares the things she finds in drawers and cupboards and Annie thanks her by chewing them up.
Annie shares her water bowl with Tally. Tally enjoys pouring it on the floor and "swimming" in it.
Tally enjoys her lunch, but she's not selfish. Oh no, she loves to chuck food over the edge of her tray and watch the dog gobble it up. After the mommy has had enough of that she takes the tray away. But before she comes back with a washcloth Annie helps out by washing Tally's hands and face with her tongue. Tally laughs and laughs.
Such good friends.
Tally shares the things she finds in drawers and cupboards and Annie thanks her by chewing them up.
Annie shares her water bowl with Tally. Tally enjoys pouring it on the floor and "swimming" in it.
Tally enjoys her lunch, but she's not selfish. Oh no, she loves to chuck food over the edge of her tray and watch the dog gobble it up. After the mommy has had enough of that she takes the tray away. But before she comes back with a washcloth Annie helps out by washing Tally's hands and face with her tongue. Tally laughs and laughs.
Such good friends.
Saturday, June 02, 2007
Mr. Rogers
You make each day a special day. You know how, by just your being you. There is only one person in the whole world exactly like you, and people can like you just the way you are. ~Fred Rogers
Mr. Rogers you're my hero!
Mr. Rogers you're my hero!
Friday, June 01, 2007
tally chew
Sometimes when Tally is eating she closes her eyes and chews. She opens them to see the new piece to her mouth but then quickly closes them again and chews. I wonder what that's about?
Maybe food tastes better with your eyes closed?
Maybe food tastes better with your eyes closed?
Thursday, May 31, 2007
Memorial
This week we remembered those who have died. My Dad died last August. I remembered Dad on Saturday and Sunday when we planted our vegetable garden. My folks were big time gardeners. We had HUGE vegetable gardens when I was growing up. And now I know why.
This is only our second year of growing food. Our garden is probably 6' x 12'. We planted sweet corn, potatoes, peas, carrots, lettuce, tomatoes and yellow bell peppers. How fun! But really our garden will hardly sustain us or provide all the corn, potatoes, peas, carrots, lettuce, tomatoes or peppers we will consume in the next year. I'm glad for the experience it gives us all. Growing food awakens us to our connection to the earth - that is very good.
I remember, Dad, your love of growing things. And I thank you for it.
This is only our second year of growing food. Our garden is probably 6' x 12'. We planted sweet corn, potatoes, peas, carrots, lettuce, tomatoes and yellow bell peppers. How fun! But really our garden will hardly sustain us or provide all the corn, potatoes, peas, carrots, lettuce, tomatoes or peppers we will consume in the next year. I'm glad for the experience it gives us all. Growing food awakens us to our connection to the earth - that is very good.
I remember, Dad, your love of growing things. And I thank you for it.
Monday, May 21, 2007
Release
Thank you for checking back to see if I have once again posted.
Whatever Thing by Christena Graves
Whatever thing that I have carried in this place
That will keep me from you, I will lay it at your feet
Whatever burden I have carried for so long
That will keep me from seeing you, I will lay it down right now
All of the things that are cluttering my mind
I will push them far from here, And listen for your voice
All of the pain that I am carrying inside, I will hand it to you
You will take it, set me free, I will fly
I need to hear you speak to me, And I want to feel you in this place
You long to take me in your arms of love,
So take me in your arms of love
Peter and I have decided that May 27th will be our last Sunday at Abbey Way Covenant Church. We did not release that information to the church until this morning so yesterday was a day of sadness and tension for me.
During our worship we sang the above song. I found myself reading it again many times. It became a prayer of release for myself and for Abbey Way.
I am still drawn with the deep stuff of my heart toward Benedictine values and practices. I long to build relational, earthy, cooperative, new-monastic community! Aaargh! Following one's heart is such a risky business!
Whatever Thing by Christena Graves
Whatever thing that I have carried in this place
That will keep me from you, I will lay it at your feet
Whatever burden I have carried for so long
That will keep me from seeing you, I will lay it down right now
All of the things that are cluttering my mind
I will push them far from here, And listen for your voice
All of the pain that I am carrying inside, I will hand it to you
You will take it, set me free, I will fly
I need to hear you speak to me, And I want to feel you in this place
You long to take me in your arms of love,
So take me in your arms of love
Peter and I have decided that May 27th will be our last Sunday at Abbey Way Covenant Church. We did not release that information to the church until this morning so yesterday was a day of sadness and tension for me.
During our worship we sang the above song. I found myself reading it again many times. It became a prayer of release for myself and for Abbey Way.
I am still drawn with the deep stuff of my heart toward Benedictine values and practices. I long to build relational, earthy, cooperative, new-monastic community! Aaargh! Following one's heart is such a risky business!
Wednesday, January 03, 2007
God with us
Matthew 10: 40-42
We are intimately linked in this harvest work. Anyone who accepts what you do, accepts me, the One who sent you. Anyone who accepts what I do accepts my Father who sent me. Accepting a messenger of God is as good as being God's messenger. Accepting someone's help is as good as giving someone help. This is a large work I've called you into, but don't be overwhelmed by it. It's best to start small. Give a cool cup of water to someone who is thirsty, for instance. The smallest act of giving or receiving makes you a true apprentice. You won't lose out on a thing.
(bold added by me)
These verses speak to my tense, busy places. They speak to my confusion and despair. My heart says, "Whew!" OK, take a breath. Give up trying to pack it all into one day. Again, breath. Look up. We are partnering with God.
And I love that these verses are followed so closely by Matthew 11: 28-30:
Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion? Come to me. Get away with me and you'll recover you life. I'll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with me and work with me -- watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I won't lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with me and you'll learn to live freely and lightly.
I very much want to learn to live freely and lightly. I deeply need rest. Real rest. I wonder what must be laid down. What is essential? What is unnecessary, or unhelpful, or even harmful? It is alarmingly easy for me to neglect the "getting away with God" thing. Easy to let life's demands drain me dry.
I think we do the same thing corporately. We need regular, corporate getting-away-with-God times. New Years Eve at Abbey Way we gave the kids a movie/pizza/popcorn party downstairs. Upstairs the adults held silence together. We shared lectio divina. We shared communion. For me it was like sweet rain on parched earth. Silence helps me hear. Silence helps me see. Silence teaches where words cannot reach. In silence I notice our connectedness to God and each other. Silence refreshes and restores. Silence helps makes room for the other. Silence helps me to notice what is needed and to move toward it in the way that I can. In the words of Oliver Twist, "More please."
We are intimately linked in this harvest work. Anyone who accepts what you do, accepts me, the One who sent you. Anyone who accepts what I do accepts my Father who sent me. Accepting a messenger of God is as good as being God's messenger. Accepting someone's help is as good as giving someone help. This is a large work I've called you into, but don't be overwhelmed by it. It's best to start small. Give a cool cup of water to someone who is thirsty, for instance. The smallest act of giving or receiving makes you a true apprentice. You won't lose out on a thing.
(bold added by me)
These verses speak to my tense, busy places. They speak to my confusion and despair. My heart says, "Whew!" OK, take a breath. Give up trying to pack it all into one day. Again, breath. Look up. We are partnering with God.
And I love that these verses are followed so closely by Matthew 11: 28-30:
Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion? Come to me. Get away with me and you'll recover you life. I'll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with me and work with me -- watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I won't lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with me and you'll learn to live freely and lightly.
I very much want to learn to live freely and lightly. I deeply need rest. Real rest. I wonder what must be laid down. What is essential? What is unnecessary, or unhelpful, or even harmful? It is alarmingly easy for me to neglect the "getting away with God" thing. Easy to let life's demands drain me dry.
I think we do the same thing corporately. We need regular, corporate getting-away-with-God times. New Years Eve at Abbey Way we gave the kids a movie/pizza/popcorn party downstairs. Upstairs the adults held silence together. We shared lectio divina. We shared communion. For me it was like sweet rain on parched earth. Silence helps me hear. Silence helps me see. Silence teaches where words cannot reach. In silence I notice our connectedness to God and each other. Silence refreshes and restores. Silence helps makes room for the other. Silence helps me to notice what is needed and to move toward it in the way that I can. In the words of Oliver Twist, "More please."
Sunday, December 24, 2006
Noel
excerpt from Phyllis Tickle's book What the Land Already Knows.
It was 1980 and two Sundays before Christmas--the Virgin's Sunday, the Sunday of the pink candle that was waiting downstairs in the Advent wreath for me to come and light it. Earnest pleas were already coming up the stairwell. "Come on, Mama. Please come on and light it." What the voices did not understand--what I myself had not understood until only a few moments before and could not for the life of me have explained to them that morning--was that every Advent, by lighting Mary's candle, I also light that quiet place where my femaleness enters Christmas.
In the weak December light of that cold morning, our double bed sat in front of the bedroom's big windows, a disheaveled wad of blankets and quilts, a sea of wrinkles still warm from our bodies. As always, I began by removing the pillows to fluff them and pulling the bottom sheet taut again. I had folded back the covers to air, my hands moving in and out of the night's warmth and a life's memories. For twenty-five years we had slept there. We had conceived nine children on that bed and had brought seven of them to birth. Here I had always rested afterwards. And here they continued to join us in the morning, cold bare feet and knobby little knees hammering, innocent as Oedipus, against our mystery.
A shuttle of clouds blew over the lemony sun outside, and the gray pattern swam across the exposed sheets, moved up the bedroom wall, and disappeared on the ceiling. The wind was too cold that day, and I drew the drapes shut, blocking both the light and the cold for a while longer.
So it began again, the dying of our year. The long nights I yearned toward; the stripped trees and tan grasses; the graying of the sun. I tied a red ribbon around the lamp on the dresser, knowing that in a little while one of the children would bring a pinecone or a holly branch in from the field and slip it through the ribbon without my asking.
It was not quite two full weeks to the holy night; the children were waiting, and I had much to do. It was then that I first realized that I wanted to--in fact, had to-- pully the covers back up and smooth the spread before I could light the candle to which their voices were calling me. It was then that I at last perceived the pattern within my Christmas self. Always here, in this
place of beginnings, was my center, the order of my Advent days. This, first, must be right. A pillow or two set just so and then, on top of those, the special pillow that says Noel: "Birth". All over the world this fortnight people would wish each other birth; I would do it here.
***
And to you, my dear blog friends, I wish you birth! Noel!
It was 1980 and two Sundays before Christmas--the Virgin's Sunday, the Sunday of the pink candle that was waiting downstairs in the Advent wreath for me to come and light it. Earnest pleas were already coming up the stairwell. "Come on, Mama. Please come on and light it." What the voices did not understand--what I myself had not understood until only a few moments before and could not for the life of me have explained to them that morning--was that every Advent, by lighting Mary's candle, I also light that quiet place where my femaleness enters Christmas.
In the weak December light of that cold morning, our double bed sat in front of the bedroom's big windows, a disheaveled wad of blankets and quilts, a sea of wrinkles still warm from our bodies. As always, I began by removing the pillows to fluff them and pulling the bottom sheet taut again. I had folded back the covers to air, my hands moving in and out of the night's warmth and a life's memories. For twenty-five years we had slept there. We had conceived nine children on that bed and had brought seven of them to birth. Here I had always rested afterwards. And here they continued to join us in the morning, cold bare feet and knobby little knees hammering, innocent as Oedipus, against our mystery.
A shuttle of clouds blew over the lemony sun outside, and the gray pattern swam across the exposed sheets, moved up the bedroom wall, and disappeared on the ceiling. The wind was too cold that day, and I drew the drapes shut, blocking both the light and the cold for a while longer.
So it began again, the dying of our year. The long nights I yearned toward; the stripped trees and tan grasses; the graying of the sun. I tied a red ribbon around the lamp on the dresser, knowing that in a little while one of the children would bring a pinecone or a holly branch in from the field and slip it through the ribbon without my asking.
It was not quite two full weeks to the holy night; the children were waiting, and I had much to do. It was then that I first realized that I wanted to--in fact, had to-- pully the covers back up and smooth the spread before I could light the candle to which their voices were calling me. It was then that I at last perceived the pattern within my Christmas self. Always here, in this
place of beginnings, was my center, the order of my Advent days. This, first, must be right. A pillow or two set just so and then, on top of those, the special pillow that says Noel: "Birth". All over the world this fortnight people would wish each other birth; I would do it here.
***
And to you, my dear blog friends, I wish you birth! Noel!
Monday, December 18, 2006
Christmas Meme?
1. Egg nog or Hot Chocolate?
Both! Especially if they are homemade.
2. Does Santa wrap presents or just sit them under the tree?
strange question. Traditionally speaking I thought Santa was in the business of stuffing stockings. anyway, wouldn't he have elves to help him with the wrapping?
3. Colored lights on tree/house or white?
This year our tree has white lights and there are no lights outside (last year there were colored lights outside but Pete didn't want to fuss with them this year - I don't blame him.)
4. Do you hang mistletoe?
No.
5. When do you put your decorations up?
Usually the weekend after Thanksgiving but this year it was a week later.
6. What is your favorite holiday dish?
Hmmm. tough one. I'm going to cheat and name two: lefse and swedish meatballs
7. Favorite Holiday memory as a child.
Seeing our Christmas tree with it's large bulb lights.
8. When and how did you learn the truth about Santa?
I don't know. I had older siblings - they spilled the beans while I was young.
9. Do you open a gift on Christmas eve?
Pete's family opens all of their gifts on Christmas eve. Pete and I open gifts with our kids on Christmas morn.
10. How do you decorate your Christmas tree?
In years past we have had two trees: one with all the misc. collected ornaments and multicolored lights, and one with a theme. This year we only have the themed tree which is so pretty. It has white lights and old fashioned glass ornaments in hot pink, green and aqua. It has a glass beaded garland, glittered pine cones, mica dusted nuts and sparkly birds.
11. Snow! Love it or dread it?
I'm dreaming of a white Christmas...
12. Can you ice skate?
nope.
13. Do you remember your favorite gift?
One year mom made Holly Hobbie dolls for myself and each of my sisters. She also made doll cradles with mattresses and blankets.
14. What is the most important thing about the Holidays for you?
Wonder and delight.
15. What is your favorite Holiday dessert?
Iced butter cookies. yummm!
16. What is your favorite Holiday tradition?
A simple meal of soup (oyster stew and a few others) and bread followed by gift opening on Christmas eve.
17. What tops your tree?
This year it's a sparkly peacock. ha!
18. Which do you prefer giving or receiving?
it's a toss up.
19. What is your favorite Christmas song?
I'm with Jan on this one: Oh Come, Oh Come, Emmanuel. I loved singing that at night in the Crown College chapel.
20. Candy Canes! Yuck or Yum?
Ho hum.
tonya, erin, pearl, jaime? up for a doing your Christmas meme? (what's a meme?)
Both! Especially if they are homemade.
2. Does Santa wrap presents or just sit them under the tree?
strange question. Traditionally speaking I thought Santa was in the business of stuffing stockings. anyway, wouldn't he have elves to help him with the wrapping?
3. Colored lights on tree/house or white?
This year our tree has white lights and there are no lights outside (last year there were colored lights outside but Pete didn't want to fuss with them this year - I don't blame him.)
4. Do you hang mistletoe?
No.
5. When do you put your decorations up?
Usually the weekend after Thanksgiving but this year it was a week later.
6. What is your favorite holiday dish?
Hmmm. tough one. I'm going to cheat and name two: lefse and swedish meatballs
7. Favorite Holiday memory as a child.
Seeing our Christmas tree with it's large bulb lights.
8. When and how did you learn the truth about Santa?
I don't know. I had older siblings - they spilled the beans while I was young.
9. Do you open a gift on Christmas eve?
Pete's family opens all of their gifts on Christmas eve. Pete and I open gifts with our kids on Christmas morn.
10. How do you decorate your Christmas tree?
In years past we have had two trees: one with all the misc. collected ornaments and multicolored lights, and one with a theme. This year we only have the themed tree which is so pretty. It has white lights and old fashioned glass ornaments in hot pink, green and aqua. It has a glass beaded garland, glittered pine cones, mica dusted nuts and sparkly birds.
11. Snow! Love it or dread it?
I'm dreaming of a white Christmas...
12. Can you ice skate?
nope.
13. Do you remember your favorite gift?
One year mom made Holly Hobbie dolls for myself and each of my sisters. She also made doll cradles with mattresses and blankets.
14. What is the most important thing about the Holidays for you?
Wonder and delight.
15. What is your favorite Holiday dessert?
Iced butter cookies. yummm!
16. What is your favorite Holiday tradition?
A simple meal of soup (oyster stew and a few others) and bread followed by gift opening on Christmas eve.
17. What tops your tree?
This year it's a sparkly peacock. ha!
18. Which do you prefer giving or receiving?
it's a toss up.
19. What is your favorite Christmas song?
I'm with Jan on this one: Oh Come, Oh Come, Emmanuel. I loved singing that at night in the Crown College chapel.
20. Candy Canes! Yuck or Yum?
Ho hum.
tonya, erin, pearl, jaime? up for a doing your Christmas meme? (what's a meme?)
Monday, November 20, 2006
my roses
I've put the roses to bed for the winter. I'm hoping they will grace me with their company again next summer. Till then I thought I would share with you a few photos I took of their pretty faces.
the first is Heritage, the second Charlotte, and the third Abraham Darby.
the first is Heritage, the second Charlotte, and the third Abraham Darby.
Friday, November 17, 2006
Happy Birthday Sweet Baby!
Dear, Sweet Talia,
Seriously! Where did the year go? I knew it would fly by. I soaked up every moment I could, breathing you in, hoping to impress the sweetness upon my memory. I so enjoyed this busy and difficult year. One last chance at raising an infant (at least that's the plan!). You have been our delight. It doubles my pleasure to see your brother and sister enjoying you as much as your Dad and I do. You are a gift. Happy Birthday Baby Girl!
from this:
to this:
to this:
yummy!
(Oh! and take a look at the perfect posers at the apple orchard!)
lovely!
Seriously! Where did the year go? I knew it would fly by. I soaked up every moment I could, breathing you in, hoping to impress the sweetness upon my memory. I so enjoyed this busy and difficult year. One last chance at raising an infant (at least that's the plan!). You have been our delight. It doubles my pleasure to see your brother and sister enjoying you as much as your Dad and I do. You are a gift. Happy Birthday Baby Girl!
from this:
to this:
to this:
yummy!
(Oh! and take a look at the perfect posers at the apple orchard!)
lovely!
Wednesday, November 08, 2006
here tonight
I came down here tonight to write a quick blog... but I can't think of what it was I wanted to say. Many times during a day I think, "Oh, that would be good to blog!" but then I forget. Perhaps I need to keep a little blog journal with me.
Anyway, I did get a chance to catch up with a number of my blog friends and that was lovely. I hope that you know you are loved and that I am sending you wishes for the sweetest nights sleep.
Anyway, I did get a chance to catch up with a number of my blog friends and that was lovely. I hope that you know you are loved and that I am sending you wishes for the sweetest nights sleep.
Thursday, October 26, 2006
God of justice, God of mercy, bless all those who are surprised with pain this day from suffering caused by their own weakness or that of others. Let what we suffer teach us to be merciful; let our sins teach us to forgive. This I ask through the intercession of Jesus and all who died forgiving those who oppressed them. Amen.
from The Divine Hours, pg.116
from The Divine Hours, pg.116
Saturday, October 07, 2006
friday night
new friends
dinner
prayer
apple rum dum (is that how you spell it?)
windy bonfire
a scary story
moonlight and shadows
GOOD Night!
dinner
prayer
apple rum dum (is that how you spell it?)
windy bonfire
a scary story
moonlight and shadows
GOOD Night!
Thursday, October 05, 2006
Defensiveness
"Nevertheless, I would advise you against defensiveness on principle. It precludes the best eventualities along with the worst. As the most basic level, it expresses a lack of faith. As I have said, the worst eventualities can have great value as experience. And often enough, when we think we are protecting ourselves, we are struggling against our rescuer. I know this, I have seen the truth of it with my own eyes, though I have not myself always managed to live by it, the Good Lord knows. I truly doubt I would know how to live by it for even a day, or an hour. That is a remarkable thing to consider."
--From Gilead by Marilynne Robinson
bold added by me.
I was feeling depressed the other day, sad about many things. I began to ask God into my grief. As I did so I said, "Here is my grief. It is your own." I'm not sure if those words were mine or if he gave them to me. Immediately I began to wonder about God and his grief. I remember asking him, "Are you grieved today?" And I began to wonder if I feel grief when he is feeling grief - if perhaps joy, sadness, hope, and grief are shared.
I know that God asks me to share my heart with him, in the gladness and in the sadness. But maybe he shares his heart with me as well. Perhaps what I feel isn't mine alone.
My grief was transformed with these thoughts. I felt beautiful in it. I know those words don't add up but they seem to describe it best.
I often fight my grief. Trying somehow to defend myself from it, to rise above, to defeat it. This quote speaks to that wasted effort. It helps me cease my striving. And it humbles me. I see how small my faith is. Yes, it is a remarkable thing to consider.
--From Gilead by Marilynne Robinson
bold added by me.
I was feeling depressed the other day, sad about many things. I began to ask God into my grief. As I did so I said, "Here is my grief. It is your own." I'm not sure if those words were mine or if he gave them to me. Immediately I began to wonder about God and his grief. I remember asking him, "Are you grieved today?" And I began to wonder if I feel grief when he is feeling grief - if perhaps joy, sadness, hope, and grief are shared.
I know that God asks me to share my heart with him, in the gladness and in the sadness. But maybe he shares his heart with me as well. Perhaps what I feel isn't mine alone.
My grief was transformed with these thoughts. I felt beautiful in it. I know those words don't add up but they seem to describe it best.
I often fight my grief. Trying somehow to defend myself from it, to rise above, to defeat it. This quote speaks to that wasted effort. It helps me cease my striving. And it humbles me. I see how small my faith is. Yes, it is a remarkable thing to consider.
"The rigorous demands of true friendship, the gift of oneself, one's time, one's preferences, the nakedness and honesty, are beyond the price many are willing to pay--those who have not yet experienced what is purchased by such a price. Anyone who has been graced with true friendship knows the cost and knows the worth."
--From A Place Apart by M. Basil Pennington
--From A Place Apart by M. Basil Pennington
Tuesday, September 05, 2006
quote from book on loan
Sometimes I have loved the peacefulness of an ordinary Sunday. It is like standing in a newly planted garden after a warm rain. You can feel the silent and invisible life. All it needs from you is that you take care not to trample on it.
from Gilead by Marilynne Robinson
from Gilead by Marilynne Robinson
Monday, July 17, 2006
The lowdown
Roses
I am pleased to report that the roses are doing great. Six of seven have bloomed repeatedly, and continue to do so. The seventh is growing but is still quite small. Abraham Darby is my favorite. He full, lush, quartered and fragrant. Livy and Gunnar decided that he smells like raspberry lemonade. Charlotte is coy. Heritage is delicate. Glamis Castle is white and fluffy with a small pink center - it reminds me of a baby nipple. (weird but true). L.D. Braithwaite is a bit disappointing... but I'll wait and see if he grows on me.
It is delightful to have cut roses around the house. I share them with the neighbors too - that's fun.
Herman the Cat
Friday evening we took Herman in to be put to sleep. Very sad. Pete and I adopted Herman 13 years ago. We weren't yet married, the cat was really Pete's. I thought we should name him Sir Edmund Shakelton - we'd been watching a documentary on PBS. Pete decide to name him after me (my maiden name is Herrmann). Herman was a lovely cat, charcoal grey with yellow eyes. He was gentle with us, never scratching or biting. When we got married Herman had to share us with Asha - the cat I brought into the mix. They never did love each other much. Hermie liked to chase her down and rip out a hunk of fur. Bad kitty! Both of those cats loved to tip over containers of water whenever they could. Just forget about setting out a vase of flowers! But Herman in particular loved water. You had to watch him closely or he would sneak into the shower with you. Most of his life Herman was fat. But that past couple of years he got scary-skinny. Then he began to pull out his own fur (maybe he missed Asha). He hasn't been well. Friday morning I discovered that he'd peed in Talia's closet... and there went the camel's back. Time to say goodbye.
For the first time since 1992 I am without a cat. To tell the truth, I couldn't be happier. With two kids, a baby, a dog, a hamster and a fish, one less being to care for seems like a blessing. No more spilled milk, spilled water, tipped-over flowers. No more stepping into the laundry room and finding cat litter stuck to the bottom of my feet. No more cat puke in the hallway, bathroom, foyer, etc. No more chunks of fur on the steps right after I've vaccuumed. No more meowing at 5 am. No more stinky cat food. No more litter boxes to empty. Yes.
Cherries
We picked a pail of sour cherries off of mom and dad's tree before they moved. That pail has been sitting in the downstairs fridge for a couple of weeks. I decided I needed to take action before it all turned to compost fodder. As I washed and sorted the cherries I decided that pitting them all seemed like too much work. Sour cherries are quite a bit smaller than sweet cherries and pitting is a messy, long job. (But I was tempted because I so adore sour cherry pie!) So I put the cherries in a big pot and chopped at them with our industrial strength pastry blender. Then I cooked them on low for a bit to loosen the juice. I let them drain through a couple layers of cheese cloth for a few hours and then I collected the juice. This morning I boiled the juice, added sugar and boiled it all again for 5 minutes. I was aiming for sour cherry syrup. I think it will actually be closer to jelly. But it tastes like intense sour cherry candy - luscious!
Other than that life here is filled with the mundane activities that keep a family of 5 fed, clothed, clean, and loved. (Gunnar just came down from bath time with a dry head - I sent him back.) I hope you are well fed, clothed, clean and loved too.
I am pleased to report that the roses are doing great. Six of seven have bloomed repeatedly, and continue to do so. The seventh is growing but is still quite small. Abraham Darby is my favorite. He full, lush, quartered and fragrant. Livy and Gunnar decided that he smells like raspberry lemonade. Charlotte is coy. Heritage is delicate. Glamis Castle is white and fluffy with a small pink center - it reminds me of a baby nipple. (weird but true). L.D. Braithwaite is a bit disappointing... but I'll wait and see if he grows on me.
It is delightful to have cut roses around the house. I share them with the neighbors too - that's fun.
Herman the Cat
Friday evening we took Herman in to be put to sleep. Very sad. Pete and I adopted Herman 13 years ago. We weren't yet married, the cat was really Pete's. I thought we should name him Sir Edmund Shakelton - we'd been watching a documentary on PBS. Pete decide to name him after me (my maiden name is Herrmann). Herman was a lovely cat, charcoal grey with yellow eyes. He was gentle with us, never scratching or biting. When we got married Herman had to share us with Asha - the cat I brought into the mix. They never did love each other much. Hermie liked to chase her down and rip out a hunk of fur. Bad kitty! Both of those cats loved to tip over containers of water whenever they could. Just forget about setting out a vase of flowers! But Herman in particular loved water. You had to watch him closely or he would sneak into the shower with you. Most of his life Herman was fat. But that past couple of years he got scary-skinny. Then he began to pull out his own fur (maybe he missed Asha). He hasn't been well. Friday morning I discovered that he'd peed in Talia's closet... and there went the camel's back. Time to say goodbye.
For the first time since 1992 I am without a cat. To tell the truth, I couldn't be happier. With two kids, a baby, a dog, a hamster and a fish, one less being to care for seems like a blessing. No more spilled milk, spilled water, tipped-over flowers. No more stepping into the laundry room and finding cat litter stuck to the bottom of my feet. No more cat puke in the hallway, bathroom, foyer, etc. No more chunks of fur on the steps right after I've vaccuumed. No more meowing at 5 am. No more stinky cat food. No more litter boxes to empty. Yes.
Cherries
We picked a pail of sour cherries off of mom and dad's tree before they moved. That pail has been sitting in the downstairs fridge for a couple of weeks. I decided I needed to take action before it all turned to compost fodder. As I washed and sorted the cherries I decided that pitting them all seemed like too much work. Sour cherries are quite a bit smaller than sweet cherries and pitting is a messy, long job. (But I was tempted because I so adore sour cherry pie!) So I put the cherries in a big pot and chopped at them with our industrial strength pastry blender. Then I cooked them on low for a bit to loosen the juice. I let them drain through a couple layers of cheese cloth for a few hours and then I collected the juice. This morning I boiled the juice, added sugar and boiled it all again for 5 minutes. I was aiming for sour cherry syrup. I think it will actually be closer to jelly. But it tastes like intense sour cherry candy - luscious!
Other than that life here is filled with the mundane activities that keep a family of 5 fed, clothed, clean, and loved. (Gunnar just came down from bath time with a dry head - I sent him back.) I hope you are well fed, clothed, clean and loved too.
Thursday, June 22, 2006
midday prayer
God of mercy,
this midday moment of rest
is your welcome gift.
Bless the work we have begun,
and make good its defects
and let us finish it in a way that pleases you.
Grant this through Christ our Lord.
The Liturgy of the Hours, Vol. III
this midday moment of rest
is your welcome gift.
Bless the work we have begun,
and make good its defects
and let us finish it in a way that pleases you.
Grant this through Christ our Lord.
The Liturgy of the Hours, Vol. III
Monday, June 19, 2006
sweet fragrance
I am searching for a suitable analogy for what I experienced yesterday. Abbey Way gathered together yesterday morning as we usually do on Sunday morning. This time we met in our back yard under the maple trees. The air was fresh and cool. We were surrounded by green. It was lovely. But lovelier still was the sweet affection that was blooming among us. Affection. Much of the community was together on Saturday for the New Monastic Workshop. But a few of us were unable to be there... and we were missed. ...and they told us so.
Wikipedia says:
Affection: literally, a mental state resulting generally from an external influence. It is popularly used of a relation between persons amounting to more than goodwill or friendship.
That's lovely. We have committed ourselves to this "shared life" without even knowing the others joining us for the journey. Yet our common desire for God supports and enfold us. What rich soil we have to grow in! Only the first few flowers have bloomed but what a lovely fragrance they give.
Wikipedia says:
Affection: literally, a mental state resulting generally from an external influence. It is popularly used of a relation between persons amounting to more than goodwill or friendship.
That's lovely. We have committed ourselves to this "shared life" without even knowing the others joining us for the journey. Yet our common desire for God supports and enfold us. What rich soil we have to grow in! Only the first few flowers have bloomed but what a lovely fragrance they give.
Tuesday, June 06, 2006
new reads
I just picked up three new books from the thrift store: Memoirs of a Geisha, Bridget Jones's Diary, and The Bondwoman's Narrative.
I am so excited to be reading something that is not specifically about spiritual/church/God nor dysfunctional families. Ah! It's like going on vacation!
I am so excited to be reading something that is not specifically about spiritual/church/God nor dysfunctional families. Ah! It's like going on vacation!
Thursday, May 04, 2006
So shall I turn
You strengthen me more and more; you enfold and comfort me.
Psalm 71:21
I've been going through the Boundaries book for a year or so. Recently I've been reading Narcissistic Family.
This journey has been:
good
painful
horrible
beautiful
awakening
painful
enlightening
strengthening
loving
courageous
painful
hopeful
Certain days (today) I want to run away. I want to nap all day and see no one for eons. I want to escape.
I've been awakened. I have become aware. I am learning to be with myself. In so doing I feel pain. I desperately want to alleviate the pain, the anxiety. I look to the old ways - food, TV, spending, computer games - they do not do a very good job.
Yet, I feel that I want to congratulate myself for using food, TV, spending, games to numb myself, to cope. That was a resourceful thing to do. Those were the options that were available to me. Thing is, now I want to leave them - turn instead to other helpers. And more than that I want to get healing for the underlying issues. The old ways only worked to mask the pain that issued from the interior wound - they had no positive effect upon the wound itself.
What will heal me?
Open, Lord, my eyes that I may see.
Open, Lord, my ears that I may hear.
Open, Lord my heart and my mind that I may understand.
So shall I turn to you and be healed.
traditional prayer
Psalm 71:21
I've been going through the Boundaries book for a year or so. Recently I've been reading Narcissistic Family.
This journey has been:
good
painful
horrible
beautiful
awakening
painful
enlightening
strengthening
loving
courageous
painful
hopeful
Certain days (today) I want to run away. I want to nap all day and see no one for eons. I want to escape.
I've been awakened. I have become aware. I am learning to be with myself. In so doing I feel pain. I desperately want to alleviate the pain, the anxiety. I look to the old ways - food, TV, spending, computer games - they do not do a very good job.
Yet, I feel that I want to congratulate myself for using food, TV, spending, games to numb myself, to cope. That was a resourceful thing to do. Those were the options that were available to me. Thing is, now I want to leave them - turn instead to other helpers. And more than that I want to get healing for the underlying issues. The old ways only worked to mask the pain that issued from the interior wound - they had no positive effect upon the wound itself.
What will heal me?
Open, Lord, my eyes that I may see.
Open, Lord, my ears that I may hear.
Open, Lord my heart and my mind that I may understand.
So shall I turn to you and be healed.
traditional prayer
Thursday, April 20, 2006
The other new ones
Here are the other English Roses I'm planting. They will all look this fantastic I'm sure!
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