One Wild and Precious Life

Black Madonna & The Garden

Last Saturday I had the privilege of doing an Advent Quiet Day at Grace Church, Chattanooga.  For those of you who aren't familiar with Quiet Days, they are fairly traditional in the Episcopal Church, especially during Advent and Lent, the liturgical seasons of self-examination and preparation.  My friend, who is the priest in charge at Grace, asked me to do something about the black madonna for them.  Typically the day consists of two presentations of perhaps 45 minutes each, and some quiet time for prayer, meditation, journaling.  It's a time to take the material of the presentations and internalize it, make it your own.  I was very excited to do this presentation, but didn't know what to expect, as I had offered the same presentation to my own parish last year and zero (yes, zero) people showed up for it.  But this is a much bigger and more diverse parish than my own; in addition, I was privileged to get some additional publicity in the form of National Episcopal Church coverage, so as I said -- who knew how many people might come?

I'll admit, the day didn't start well.  I thought I knew my traveling time pretty well, having been off the Plateau and down to Chattanooga several times; in addition, I had directions from the diocese.  Unfortunately, my travel took a bit longer than I'd planned, and I got on the connecting interstate going the wrong direction.  I was nearly a half-hour late (having planned to be 45 minutes early), and of course I arrived flustered.

But then it all settled down nicely.  I talked about my madonnas as artifact and Christian icon.  I talked about how Mary is actually the perfect companion for Advent, as she certainly knew the truest sense of "preparation," and how my own story connected with the darker aspects of Advent preparation.  I, like Mary, knew how it felt to be young, pregnant, and unmarried: I know the shame, the doubt, how it feels to tell parents and one's intended of the untimely pregnancy.  I spoke of Advent being a time when we move into darkness, then out of the darkness toward the light of the Incarnation of Christ.  I showed my artifacts, talked a bit about my pilgrimage last year in search of the Italian black madonnas.  I answered questions, then we took a short break and sat in silent, centering prayer for a time.

After lunch I talked a bit about what some believe are the pagan origins of the black madonna, about the similarity to Isis and Horus, to Artemis, about how the Madonna might have appeared to the Italian culture that had been worshipping women in the form of goddesses for millennia.  I told them my theory that Christianity was much easier for this pagan culture to accept when it appeared in the form of a female holding a child, and how some of the Italian legends and festivals for Mary held elements that resembled pagan legends.  I told more of my personal story, about how grief and dark places are such old, familiar friends to me, how I've trod the dark paths of grief many times, and how I feel called to be with people in their darkest times here at my own parish.  You can imagine that in a parish of retirees, I have many occasions to walk beside them in times of illness, disability, and grief.

This is the black madonna at Oropa, the first one I saw in Italy.  Isn't she striking?

I had 13 participants, and it was really wonderful to be with people who understood my points, who were interested, who asked questions, who weren't mystified when I talked about Carl Jung, his feminine principle, the shadow, the sacred feminine, the dark feminine.

And I was delighted when they asked me to return to conduct their Lenten retreat, an overnight at a nearby retreat center.  I'm happily planning and preparing for that now, as well -- am thinking of focusing on the biblical Wisdom tradition and writings.

The weather has really shifted today.  It went from a mild 50 degrees F, with a little sunshine, to overcast and rainy and cooler.  Tonight and tomorrow it's supposed to snow.

Earlier, I worked outside in the yard a bit.  This is an "after" shot of the sidewalk, which was buried in leaves and overrun with nasty bamboo grass and wild rose thorns.

Yeah, keep in mind, this is the "after" shot!  Imagine what it must have been before.  You can see this overgrown bed (who planted this bamboo grass here in the first place?  It sure wasn't me!) will occupy me for hours, as I spent an hour here, clearing this walk, cutting that nasty wild rose, and raking a bit.  Every mild winter day will afford me the chance to get outside into the invigorating fresh air, as can be seen from this:

and this:

and this:

and this:

Well, that's about half of what needs to be pruned and trimmed, weeded and tidied.  Want to come help?  My flower beds are suffering from years of neglect now; every year I swear I'll do better, and every year things get away from me almost before I know what's happening.

The good thing about this part of the country is that we get plenty of days that are 45-50 degrees and sunny in the winter; that's when it will feel good to get outside and bend and stretch and breathe fresh air (and leaf mold from all the dead things).  Despite appearances, I like to get my hands in among growing things, and it has been entirely too long since I've done that.

Tomorrow is the Third Sunday in Advent. I'm not quite sure where this year, much less this short season, has gone already.  I've begun my Christmas decorating, which feels as though it will be low key this year.  Here's the tree, partially decorated:

The ornaments are red ones that I had in the house (I used them up through Valentine's Day in various bowls).  I haven't brought the rest in from the garage yet -- I get really tired of schlepping stuff back and forth.

Finally, before I head off to finish my sermon:  I've begun a program called Food Addicts in Recovery Anonymous (FA).  It's modeled very closely on Alcoholics Anonymous, not just some generic "Twelve-Step Program."  One of the books we study is the "Big Book" from AA.  It's a pretty rigorous food program for the first 90 days -- no flour, no sugar, call sponsor daily to report food plan for the coming day.  As I read the materials daily, I find that so many of the things these books say "fit" for me, and my heart sinks.  I do not like admitting that I have an addictive disorder or personality.  I'd much rather this was all just "bad eating habits" that I could change at will.  But I've been carrying this weight for nearly 20 years now, and trying to "change bad habits" hasn't really worked.  Though the focus of the program is not weight loss, per se, but becoming abstinent and working a program of recovery, I do, of course, want to lose weight, as well.  This is my eighth day, and I can tell I'm losing.  My knees and hips are already thanking me, and I expect they'll continue to do so.  But equally important, I'm becoming more and more aware of habits and characteristics and coping mechanisms that need to be addressed and changed.  I think I've got a long road ahead of me, but if it gets hard, I remind myself that it's really one day at a time, and maybe I can make it through just this one day.  I'll let you know how it goes.  I'm really trying to let God do this for and with me, but it's hard to let go the reins.

Hope you all are taking some time just to be in Advent.  Be alert.  Watch for signs of what God's doing.  Get your heart ready for the feast of love that Christmas is really intended to be.

Oops!  I forgot the promised link to last Sunday's sermon (thanks again, Fran, for encouraging me to do this!):  Download Advent 2A, December 5, 2010 . I will post tomorrow's when it's finished -- tomorrow!

St. Andrew's Day

Well, that was a rude awakening.  Sigh.  I had a whole lovely post written, and it simply disappeared because of some fancy key-work I did.  I wish this Typepad dashboard had one of those little "undo" arrows like MS Word does.  I could have saved myself a half-hour or so.

Well, rather than rewrite everything about St. Andrew, I'll just send you to the Wikipedia link . Enough to say that today's his day, and he's the patron saint of Scotland, brother of St. Peter, and first Bishop of Byzantium.

Here on the Cumberland Plateau, it's a gloomy, rainy day, and I've had the lights on all day.  I've been cozied up at home, having no appointments to pull me outside.  One of the great things about being a parish priest is the flexibility of my schedule.  I can read and prepare for bible study, for two book groups (one a Sunday group, another a non-parish group), start my sermon, and at the same time be warm and dry, and put on a big pot of turkey-vegetable-rice soup.  Yum, yum.

Days like today, I realize that the 3 years of study for a THIRD master's degree, the intimidating student debt, the grief that I experience from time to time are all worth it.

As I cooked my soup, I could gaze out my kitchen door at this:

I wish I had taken this picture a week ago, when more leaves were on it; but I don't believe the colors were as brilliant then.  Every time I see it, I'm grateful for the warmth of it.

As I was browsing my pictures, I also saw these, and they added another spot of sunshine to my day.  They were taken last month, right after I planted them:

And now look at the contrast here, between October, when the mums were definitely dominant in this window box with mums and pansies:

And this, taken today, albeit with pansies a little sodden:

The mums got frostbitten, and the pansies are flourishing!

I also found this closeup of my Advent table wreath, which shows off the purple privet berries nicely:

So if you're having a gloomy weather day, my prayer for you is that you find a spot of blazing color to brighten things up, or that you let my own spots of sunshine do the trick for you.

I've been thinking a lot about gratitude, which you can probably tell, if you read my sermons in the Sunday posting.  It seems that when I make a practice of literally "counting my blessings" (at least 5 a day), then the world just goes better in every way.  I don't know why that is, except I'm more aware of the abundant grace in my life; I also believe that positive energy attracts more positive energy, and that's what gratutude generates.  I'm making a practice of writing down 5 blessings or gratitudes every day.  Try it!

Autumn

Summer has come and gone since I've written.  But I've been reading my friends' blogs again, and it has inspired me to return.

Since the 3rd of June, my last post, much has happened.  I've had a birthday.  I've lost 27 pounds.  I've been on vacation.  It has been a wonderful summer, though very hot!

For my birthday I was in Indiana and Illinois, visiting family.  I had a wonderful time.  I had delicious strawberry shortcake at an urban church's strawberry festival, a huge affair where over 10,000 desserts were served!  I told them about my little church's festival in May, where we serve about 350.  But it was the same wonderful feeling of a church doing ministry all together, feeding the whole community.

My sister-in-law's yard was in fine form.

 

This is looking toward the neighbor's house.  SIL has had the landscapers in, and they've worked hard on it all.  Here's where I sat in the mornings to write in my journal:

On my actual birthday, I had lunch with 4 high school friends, two of whom I literally have not seen since high school graduation.  We were all part of the same crowd in high school, attending one another's slumber parties, crying on one another's shoulders, playing soccer with a crushed up soft drink can in front of the gym, and laughing till we cried on more occasions than I can count.  It fed my soul so to see them, and was truly the best gift I've received in a long time.  That night I went to dinner with my sister-in-law and her friends at a lovely Italian restaurant located right in the Terre Haute airport.  I had chicken piccata that was to die for, as I watched through the huge windows when a huge, bellowing, blowing, lashing rain storm swept across the tarmac.  I also watched videos on big screens showing scenes of Italy -- and it was such fun to say, "I've been there -- and there! -- and there!"

I had lunch one day with my brother Paul -- the only one still alive (my brothers were all 12+ years older than me).  He seemed his frisky old self, now a year after his beloved wife of many years died.  Ramona, we still miss you.

Then, in July, I went to Buffalo for 2 weeks, staying, as always, with my best friend in the world.  We had such fun!  She has the best little veggie garden on her upper front porch, and we ate a few things from it while I was there.

This is actually a shot from last year, so I got her pretty flower boxes (that we planted together), but not the veggie garden, in the corner where I'm standing to take this shot.  This year the porch was even more beautiful than last.

We spend weekdays at the campground, lazing along and barbecuing, going to the beach late in the afternoon and catching up on our reading (I read the first 2 Steig Larssen books, and two books about compulsive eating, which gave me much food for thought).

Oops, ignore that man -- it's Cheryl's partner and my good friend, Tom!  But you can see the camping trailer where we stay and the pretty, shaded lot where it's parked.  And this is what we saw every night we were there:

Oh, I'm not even sure this is a good example of the best of them!  But the campsite is literally steps from the lake (maybe 100 yards?), and after dinner it was delightful to walk down together and feast our eyes on the beauty of it.

On weekends, when the campground filled with noisy campers and many noisy motorized vehicles of various sorts (golf carts, ATVs, go-karts, motorcycles, and the beach with ski-dos and motorboats), we came back into town (about a 45-minute drive) and did city things, such as the stunningly beautiful Buffalo Garden Walk, movies, and parties with the girls.

Okay, this is a shot of Cheryl and her pretty table -- but quite frankly, when I was with the girls, I was having so much fun that I forgot to take the "girlfriend pictures" of all of us together that I love so much!

I drove home a happy woman.  We ate healthy, wonderful, fresh food, grilled meats, and drank lots of water (along with other libations!).  I maintained my weight -- even lost a couple more pounds.  My soul was filled with good friends and happy times.  I went to church at two cool churches, and got to talk to two cool priests that were new since I lived there.  Ah, it was the vacation that I needed last year and didn't get, because I was too busy in California and too sick in Buffalo.

Yes, I've had bothersome allergies on and off all summer.  But I learned to manage them!  Triumph!  Claritin-D is the antihistamine that works for me with minimal side effects (I believe different ones work best for different people), and also Nasonex nasal spray.  I've had to keep my house closed up and the cooling system fan running all the time, which is a great disappointment for me, as I love nothing better than open windows and fresh air blowing through, when it's cool enough.  But this is how I managed to keep things well under control, so I did not have a recurrence of the bronchitis that laid me so low for two months last summer.

So now I feel rested and energetic again.  This is a testimony for at least one good, refreshing vacation each year, and preferably two.  I've continued to lose a bit of weight, though the heat in Tennessee has resulted in me being less active during August, and now even into September.  My yoga studio closed, so I haven't done yoga regularly, either.  So the weight loss has slowed, and I'm struggling again.

My friend Susan (who's also our parish secretary) gave me a great 18-speed bike she wasn't using, and I've ridden it a few times.  Funny, though -- when I was in my 20s I did not own a car, and my only transportation was a bicycle.  I rode it everywhere, at first with my daughter in a little seat on the back, and then later, she followed me on her own little bike.  My 10-speed bicycle truly was almost like an extension of my own body.  It's not like that now in my late 50s, I can tell you!  It was a great surprise that riding uphill (on this very hilly Plateau) was difficult, even in the lowest gear!  What has happened, except for 3 decades and 80 pounds?  Huh?

But I am energized and excited about the season to come at church.  We're doing 4 sessions on Sunday morning about Christian healing, and it's a lively group of 6 of us.  The Bible study on Wednesday is finishing up our very long study of Exodus, and that's exciting, too.  This is the first time we've attempted a formal study of the "biblical theology" of a book of the bible (though I tend to think that's what we actually do each time we meet), and it's exciting to see people finding the theological themes or loci in the book, and learning more about God, more about humankind, more about judgment, compassion, and grace, as we review what we've discussed.  We'll soon wrap this up and our next study will be the Gospel of Luke.  I've started reading "The Wisdom Jesus" by Cynthia Bourgeault, and think maybe I'll have a book discussion on that for our next Sunday series.  Can you tell I'm well rested and ready to roll?

Just the last bit of wonderful news from my autumn is that my friend Sandi got a new Kindle for her anniversary, and she has given me her old one, already loaded with maybe 100 books, mostly detective novels!  What fun I'm having with it!  What a generous heart, for her to give me such a wonderful gift.  So I'm reading Steig Larssen's third ("The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet's Nest" -- I was waiting for it to come out in paperback), and next is the Sue Grafton "U" book.  Yay!  Lots of fiction to supplement the nonfiction that I'm also enjoying.

Now the colors are changing in my yard, and I'm about to uproot my dear veggie garden and reduce it in size by about half.  I'll keep the rhubarb, grapes, and herbs, and try to coax the asparagus to life again next spring.  But it's being reduced from a large, rectangular plot, to a smaller triangle.  The dear parishioner who built my gate is going to help me move my fence, and I've got to get out there and weed and remove the raised beds, so the job can be simply done.

I'm sure all of you are stopping to enjoy the fall.  Take time just to be in a few delicious moments -- as many as possible.  You'll never live these particular days again!

The Mystified Gardener: Memorial Day Confession

Okay.  I've hidden my secret from you long enough.  My gardens are driving me wild (and they have gone almost perfectly wild, themselves).  My predecessor at this church was a passionate gardener, and something of a garden snob.  He was also an anglophile, and so planted lovely little English cottage garden beds all over about a half-acre of yard here.  He also planted some beautiful and unusual specimen plants, as well as a cartload of roses.  When I arrived, the gardens had only been neglected for about a year and a half, and my first summer, I actually managed, by dint of very hard labor, to whip them all into nearly-perfect shape.  They were a delight.  I performed a wedding that summer, and proudly invited the bridal party into my gardens for photographs.

Then I became enamored with my veggie garden, and the flower beds became seriously neglected.  I labored long and hard on that little plot, enlarging, tilling, fertilizing, planting, harvesting.  I installed a sunken fence, to guard against tunneling pests.  I lined it with chicken wire to keep out bunnies.  I installed raised beds for quicker warming and earlier planting.  I mulched paths with everything from landscape fabric to newspaper to wood chips.  It was a labor of love and great satisfaction.

Last spring and summer were very busy for me, finally culminating in that long bout with allergies, bronchitis that was very near to pneumonia, and nearly 2 months on the sofa prior to my trip to Italy in September.  It was all I could do to get to church and my office hours; there was nothing, nothing left for the gardens.

As you may know, this spring I fought the beginnings of the same battle with my allergies, but I was determined to learn to manage them, not be sick for months like last year.  I weathered the worst of pollen season fairly well, certainly better than last summer, but the gardens have gone begging.  And today I feel the urge to get to them.  I've decided that my gardening really requires two characters:  "Farmer Ann" and "The Genteel Lady Gardener" -- unfortunately, rather more of the former, and less of the latter, at least right now.

I will get to the flower gardens shortly, but if I want any crop at all (I'm already nearly a month late getting any garden veggies in, and have to forego cool-weather stuff like peas, onions, potatoes, lettuce, & spinach completely), I have to act quickly.  I have one surviving tomato plant (from a batch I bought several weeks ago), and can still buy more, I suppose.  It's really tomatoes that I love, anyway.

But here is what I have to contend with:

Yes, this is one part of my shameful secret (the other part is my flower beds, and you'll see those, in time).

The weather is mostly cloudy, with rain always threatening.  Even if it does rain, I want to get some work done out there.  I'm about to "suit up:"  getting ready to garden in Tennessee is never an easy process.  There's old, "mudproof" clothing and shoes to don, then insect repellent and a cap to soak up sweat.  Without bug repellent I'll be annoyed by many flying insects and eaten alive by chiggers.  Then gloves and my tool basket to dig out tough stuff.  My list of chores includes:

1. Pulling as many weeds as I can, loading them into my wheelbarrow, and hauling them off to the end of the yard where I dump green stuff as "landfill."
2. Dismantling the raised beds I spent weeks installing a couple of years ago.
3. Tilling up all the soil, if I can get my tiller to start (haven't used it in years).
4. Replacing the fence, including digging a small trench to bury the bottom 6-8" down.  I pulled it up to reduce the size of the garden (should probably have just left it in place and dismantled whatever beds I didn't want to cultivate any longer, but it's too late for that -- no sense crying over spilt milk).
5. Mounding up beds to plant, re-mulching paths with wood chips.

So I've got my work cut out for me as "Farmer Ann."  It's probably more than I can do in a week, much less a day, or a few hours (my energy won't hold up for more than a couple of hours at a time).  Look for pictures later today or tomorrow of whatever I manage to accomplish.  You're my means of accountability.  The "mystified" part today is:  How did I ever let it all get this bad (answer:  benign neglect)?  And how will I ever get it cleaned up (answer: one weed, one board, one trench at a time, over hours and days).  I can know those two answers in my head, but I still feel mystified by it all!  Wish me luck!

Holiday Weekend

Wow!  I checked a lot of categories; I guess I have a lot to say tonight.  It's the eve of a holiday for me -- not exactly a "holiday weekend," as my title implies, but a day off my normal routine, at least.  Ordinarily, it would have been Friday, Saturday, and Monday off, with only the morning service at church.  But this week I had a wedding rehearsal on Friday (with rehearsal dinner afterward), the wedding itself Saturday morning (with reception luncheon afterward), and two sermons to write, one for the wedding, one for Trinity Sunday at church.  So all I get is a day, but ah, what a lovely day I've got planned!  But sigh -- I don't think the weather is going to cooperate -- 60% chance of rain tomorrow. 

When I was a little girl, my mother and I would go camping on Memorial Day Weekend; it was the opening of the summer camping and recreation season.  Our habitual haunt was Raccoon Lake State Recreation Area, about 1/2 hour from our home.  We would set up our tent in a campsite just inside the edge of the woods, so there was plenty of shade, and plenty of trees from which my mother would string rope to hang large sheets of plastic.  The plastic sheltered our campsite from rain, but also from any debris that might fall from the trees.  It made a cozy, covered "living space" under which we'd place our picnic tables, our food and supplies, and our Coleman camp stove.  The campfire would be outside the plastic "roof," of course.  My camping memories are lovely ones, but it nearly always rained on Memorial Day weekend.  There was usually enough sunshine and warmth to make the adventure worthwhile, but yes, we got rain, too.  Memorial Day Weekend was always punctuated with the plip, plip, plip of raindrops on the plastic overhead, with a wet sleeping bag where our canvas tent got wet, and the need to wear warm jeans, socks, and a sweatshirt, rather than the brand new swimsuit and flip flops I had for the summer. So tomorrow will remind me of my childhood camping days, I fear.

Some of the things I've planned I can still do inside, rather than outside on my porch:

A little creative work can certainly be done inside, though I confess that it really feels more like carefree play when I'm on the sunny back porch.

But there are also lots of things that can't happen inside, and almost certainly won't happen.  I can't really burn my brush pile at all, because we got a couple of downpours today.  It really takes 2-3 days of dry weather to dry out my brush well enough to burn, especially since some of it is still fairly green and recent trimming, and some fair-size logs that I pulled out of the wood chips that were given to me.

I'm not going to want to wrestle wood-chip mulch for my labyrinth in the rain.

I'm not sure even one whole day could make much progress in my veggie garden.  I was actually going to pay someone to come and help me clear out the jungle that it has become, but he called a couple of days ago and said he's been in an auto accident, and now he really can't help me.  If I still want help, I'm going to have to find someone else.  Of course, the pouring rain is a pretty good time to pull weeds -- lots of nice, soft earth, if I don't mind getting filthy and soaked (but that's the gardener's lot, anyway!).

So this probably isn't going to happen for me tomorrow, but I may get something done:

Oh, my, but it looks so lovely and orderly!

But perhaps I'll get a run with the dogs in between rain showers.  My weight loss is continuing; I'm still keeping my rules about increasing activity and eating salads and not drinking alcohol (though I had 2 glasses of wine at the wedding rehearsal dinner).  I'm a little frustrated because I seem to have hit a plateau last week, despite good behavior (I do expect it after 14 pounds, and am surprised it didn't come sooner!), and now over the weekend, I ate and drank more than I should have, even though I came home and was a perfect little paragon of dietary virtue.  So that scale isn't really budging just now -- but it will again, O it will!  A new indulgence I've discovered is Crystal Light Sunrise Tangerine Strawberry.  Oh, yum, yum.  I've known about Crystal Light since the first time I went to Weight Watchers in 1989, but I never tried it until just a couple of weeks ago.  Oh, my.  Oh, yum.  It kind of reminds me of having a pitcher of Kool-Aid around when I was a young married girl.  My only caution is that I can just about overdose on Aspartame, if I'm not careful.  And despite what I heard at Weight Watchers oh, these many years ago, it really doesn't substitute for good, clear, filtered water.

Today, of course, I preached on the doctrine of the Trinity, since it's Trinity Sunday.  If you're even slightly interested, I highly recommend Karen Armstrong's latest, The Case for God.  She does a really, really great job of describing the development of the doctrine of the Trinity, which was originally intended as a spiritual exercise that, rather than being fully understood, was meant to show us how utterly incomprehensible God actually is.  We were never meant to understand the Trinity.  And furthermore, faith originally had little to do with intellectual comprehension and agreement, but rather with loyalty and commitment.  Whether I understand the Trinity, whether I agree with the Church's doctrine of the Trinity, I stand behind and within it, and I commit my whole being to the Triune God and the teachings of Christ.  That's all that really matters!

While we're talking about books, I'm also listening to a really great one.  Most of my fiction "reading" is done in the car as I drive on my daily errands, visits, and meetings.  I'm currently listening to The Help by Kathryn Stockett.  It's one I can barely "put down" -- I want to just keep driving and driving so I can hear more and more of this story.

So tomorrow I plan to sleep in (which seems to mean about 7:30 these days, since I go to bed so early), get some exercise, and do some creative work.  I plan to play a lot and work just a little.  I might get some yard work done.  I feel very grateful for this good little life of mine.  I hope you all have something delicious planned for your day off!

Well, Okay, It's Pentecost...

...and I'm finally back!  Don't even ask me where I've been, what's taken so long.  I've been mostly around, but distracted by ever so very many things.  I did attend a short conference in Newark last month, quite inspiring and informative.  My role there was as Board Chair for our church's Jubilee Ministry, the Cumberland Adult Reading Council.

Otherwise, I've been struck down with allergies for about 6 weeks.  Now, I'm not someone who has had allergies, but as I get older (and yes, fatter), these things bother me more and more.  I got to feeling absolutely sick with them -- in fact, I thought I was sick, at first.  Of course, I was ignoring the yellow film of pollen that coated every inch of my house, inside and out.  It was my favorite season to have the windows open, the air and heat both turned off, and fresh air blowing through.  When I finally realized that allergies were the problem, not illness, I decided that my focus needed to be on learning to manage them, since it seemed that I would have to live with them.  Everyone I spoke to said that the level of allergens in the air has been extraordinary this year, probably due to a long winter, a cool, delayed spring -- and everything deciding to bloom all at once!

So I read up on allergy management on the web, and I asked everyone I know.  I closed up my house and turned the fan permanently on (to filter and re-filter the air), I dusted my house thoroughly (well, I got my cleaning lady to dust and vacuum carefully while I was at the conference), I bought a neti pot, and I went in search of an antihistamine that didn't immobilize me.  Claritin-D is my magic pill.  I do know that different brands work for different people, but this one works for me.  Once I could put aside my resentment at even having allergies at all, and having to close up my house during the beautiful springtime, then I could accept the fact that lots and lots of people have to live with allergies and learn to manage them.  I was determined not to be incapacitated as I was for 2 months last summer.  And I did it!  I got through the very worst of the worst of allergy season.

Presently, though, I've been off my antihistamines for 4 days, and I can even lie down to sleep again (previously I had to be propped up to a nearly sitting position to sleep, to avoid that postnasal cough that laid me so low last year).  I've been sleeping like a rock, 8 hours straight and waking up groggy like I could sleep 8 more.  It feels so good to get good rest!

And I've been working outside.  The electric company gave me 2 truckloads of wood chips from their trimming up and down our highway, so I've got lots of mulch for paths and my labyrinth.  I've also started work to reduce the size of one of my front beds -- to much garden for me to maintain.  I have thriving black walnut trees that I have to uproot with a pitchfork and mattock -- the squirrels harvest the black walnuts that grow profusely around my house and the church, and they like to bury them in my flower beds!  Everything has been so unkempt, but this has been a glorious year for flowers!  Here are a few that I just shot today:

I think you can click on any of these to get bigger pictures.  This is just one tiny bit of what's blooming in my gardens -- you can see that the flowers are flourishing.  My veggie garden is another story, however.  Yes, I have rhubarb, raspberries, herbs, grapes, and one tiny, neglected asparagus that has gone to fern.  But I'm completely overgrown with ragweed, thistle, and other nasties.  I've got no annual garden veggies in, not even my beloved tomatoes.  Between allergies, busy-ness at church, the half-moved fence that I haven't finished, I just have not had the energy to tackle it.  In fact, I'm going to pay someone to renovate it for me!  I may get a few late crops in this year.  I'm so ashamed of it that I won't even take pictures of it.  But, as Anne Sexton really did say, "There is hope.  There is hope everywhere.  Today God gives milk, and I have the pail."  Things may yet happen.

And here are a few signs of hope:

Lots of promise here.  It looks like it'll be a good year for the sweet-tart English apples in the back, for grapes, for the golden delicious apples in the driveway, and yes, for wild blackberries in the part of the yard that never gets cleaned out, the part that faces the highway.  So yep, lots of promise, indeed.  Hope, indeed.

Oh, yeah, at church we also doubled the size of our gravel parking lot in two long, hot days:

 

The men's group also threw in some weeding and mowing with the job they did on the parking lot, amazing guys that they are.  I spent the first day fetching lunch orders, making fresh-brewed sweet and unsweet tea, serving donuts as a mid-morning snack, and making sure the water was iced and ready for thirsty, sweaty workers.  You'll have to enlarge these pictures to really see what's going on, but in the third picture, down by the dump truck, there's a tulip-poplar tree they left standing -- just for me!  They removed 3 other trees from that little cluster -- all growing too close together.  I hate removing healthy trees, but decided to bite my tongue, as the men were doing such a great ministry to the church.  What I discovered was that by being very meek, I won one healthy tree!  It was worth it.  Big-mouth little sister that I am, it has taken me nearly 58 years to learn the art of keeping my mouth shut once in a while!

We also had one heck of a great strawberry festival, the 3rd Saturday in May!

A really good time was had by all, we fed a record number of people, and also raised a record number of dollars for the church from this event.  It was a ton of work, but we all work together, and it really does bring us closer together as a parish.  I remind them each year of how it's such a clear sign of the Spirit working within and among us.

And finally, I want to tell you about my big project for the year, which actually subsumes a number of projects within its scope:  I intend to lose weight.  A lot of weight.  I reached a spectacular, horrifying, all-time high weight on March 5, 2010.  I got on the scale for what must have been the first time in months, and I almost passed out from horror at the number I saw.  No, I'm not going to even tell you what it was, but it was way too high.  Mind-numbingly, health-threateningly high.  And it took me a few weeks to figure out what I was going to do, but it was like waking up from a long, bad dream.  I realized, really realized for the first time that my mother's sister had Type I diabetes, and I see relatives all around me developing Type II.  I'm just pushing my luck and asking for trouble here.  I also realized that in 2 years I'll be 60.  Why would I head into a new decade, and into at least the threshold of old age, without giving myself every health advantage that I possibly can?  Why am I doing this to myself?

So I'll share my simple strategy.  It's not brain surgery -- we all know what to do.

• I've given up alcohol altogether for now.  I had a bad habit of drinking daily, or nearly so -- and I think it was playing hell with my metabolism and the way my body was processing carbohydrates.
• I've taken up activity again: walking and running with my dogs, yard work, yoga classes.  Since the time I was so sick last summer, my vigorous activity was sporadic to nonexistent.  No more.  The older I get, the more crucial activity is for my weight loss.
• I eat at least one salad every single day (with a very few exceptions).  I need the veggies.
• I'm drinking lots and lots of water and other non-carbonated liquids.
• I'm really working at getting plenty of rest.
• I'm thinking about trying Overeaters Anonymous in one or more of its several incarnations.
  

How's that for a start?  I have to say, I'm down 14 pounds from where I was on March 5.  I'm down a full size in clothes.  Now that I've really started the journey, about the first of this month, I'm losing at the rate of 3 pounds a week.  The more I lose, the more I'm motivated to lose.  The more I move, the more I'm motivated to move.  I hope I can lose at this rate for a while longer, though I know it will slow down as I lose more.  I hope to reach my goal weight by the end of the year.  What a gift I'm giving myself!

And my owls?  Three of the four are flying now.  Max, Pattison, and Austin are all flying as soon as the sun sets.  I enjoy the chat room community there, as well.  And little Wesley should fly within the next day or two.  Certainly by the end of June, they'll all be fully fledged and gone from the owl box.  I feel a little sad to think about the end of my journey with these owls.  I've been watching them since the day after the oldest one hatched.  I've seen them go from blind, pink, naked little hatchlings to darling, fuzzy little chicks, to nearly fully feathered adolescent owlets.  I've seen them take their first steps outside the box, seen them fly for the first time.  Now they'll learn to hunt, and then they'll be off on their own.

So yes, it's Pentecost.  It's the end of the Great Fifty Days of Easter.  Things quiet down around the church this time of year, and I begin to think about vacations and fresh tomatoes and cold glasses of unsweet iced tea.  I told my congregation this morning that Pentecost is the celebration of the coming of the Holy Spirit: the time when the Church received the last tool it needed to get on with living a Resurrection life.  And I feel that I'm living an abundant, fulfilling, Resurrection life myself.  I hope I'll post here more often this summer.

Most of all, I hope that all who are reading this are having happy, abundant lives, too.

Hello, I'm Back -- Again! Lent, Easter, & Related Topics

Well, I'm posting again at the request of my friend Sharon -- who is keeping me from running off the rails, blogwise.  I don't have photos to share -- at least when I post photos, I feel as though I'm giving you something besides my own narcissistic ramblings.  But oh, well, today that's what you get.

What was I thinking I might say about a stressful Lent?  Lots of obligations, I think, a book study group that went very well, but on about the 4th reading, I wasn't really happy with the book (Richard Foster's "A Celebration of Discipline").  There were a number of surgeries and hospitalizations that merited visits in addition to the normal Lenten stuff.  Planning for everything:  flowers, candles, Holy Week services -- I love all those things, and have people who assist, but it's really still a massive effort on the part of this small, sleepy retirement parish, and some of my usual "assistant planners" also have their own life stressors, primarily personal illness and ailing spouses or family members.

But finally, we got to Holy Week.  Oh, my.  At 3 am on Palm Sunday I got a call from the hospital: a parishioner had died and his widow was asking for me.  I had been up late the night before, finishing my Palm Sunday sermon and just messing around -- I found I stayed up late lots of nights during Lent, because the busy schedule left me little time for reflection and relaxation, and I tended to grab that time late at night.  In any event, I found myself at the hospital before 3:30, holding the widow as she wept, praying prayers for the dead and anointing my parishioner/friend who died so suddenly.  The time around death and funerals is a very holy time for me, and while I was exhausted, I knew that I was fulfilling my highest calling when I was with the widow at the hospital that night.  Home for another 2 hours' sleep, and then up and off to church for a service we only do once a year (those invariably make me a little nervous, I want to get them just right), and instead of being able to process outside with our palms this year, it was raining, and so we started in the parish hall and simply proceeded down the hallway to the church proper (which we Episcopalians call the nave).

Palm Sunday is the first day of Holy Week, and Holy Week is the busiest (and often most stressful) in a priest's life.  We had services on Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday (2 services), Saturday (2 services, with the unexpected funeral scheduled for that day), and then on to Easter Sunday.  Counting Palm Sunday, I had 5 sermons to write and preach in that time.  I also had another parishioner who had surgery the week before in a town 1/2 hour away, and I needed and wanted to visit her.  And at the office, there were all the preparations -- service leaflets, church arrangements (again, I certainly didn't do it all, but I had to supervise and coordinate it all), two receptions (after the funeral, and after the Great Vigil of Easter, on Saturday night) to make sure all was well.

Through this all, the owls (to which I referred you in the last post) kept me sane.  Molly has been such a good mom, and McGee has been such a good provider for the family (owls mate for life, or nearly so, you know).  The chicks (we got 4 out of 6 eggs -- the 1st and last didn't hatch) are growing like weeds, and may begin flying lessons soon.  Literally millions of people have visited their site, including numerous classes of elementary and middle school kids.  I wonder how many zoologists this experience could spawn.  Yes, I've been a little obsessed, a little enamored by them.  But they really are one aspect of the Easter story -- life blooms and grows and continues, generation after generation.

But I'm telling you:  this was probably the most profound and meaningful Holy Week I've almost ever had -- certainly one of the top 2 that I've had in the 7 Easters I've been here at this church.  Palm Sunday was a blur (on maybe 4 hours' sleep), but the Holy Week services were incredibly moving.  Our bible study is focusing on the book of Exodus, and the parallels for me on promise and deliverance, slavery and freedom, and God's hand reaching down into the course of human affairs, really, really moved me profoundly this year.  If you haven't read Julian of Norwich's "Revelations of Divine Love," or "Showings," you really should.  She had mystical visions of the crucifixion that are initially somewhat disturbing, but which ultimately make her well-known phrase, "All will be well, and all will be well, and all manner of thing shall be well," something we all need to hear.

I took Monday and Tuesday off -- it was all so intense that my neurological circuits were fried.  Then Wednesday we had a healing service that was like no other.  This small Wednesday service is one of the high points of my week (along with the bible study that follows it).  I love anointing people for healing, laying on my hands and praying especially for them and those whose concerns are on their hearts.  I don't know what happens, exactly, but it is profound, and was more profound than usual this week.  I had my newly widowed lady (who has NEVER attended this service) and another couple who had never attended, the wife of whom had surgery for cancer today.  Oh, my, such raw pain and need for healing, and everyone there (all the "old regulars") felt it, too.  It was a really, really holy time.

I think I'll talk about me -- my own feelings about my winter weight gain, what I'm doing about that, etc. another time.  I still feel as though I'm standing barefoot on holy ground when I write about Holy Week.  The last 3 days, especially (Thursday, Friday, and Saturday), and then Easter Sunday, were so transcendent for me, so redolent of life and death, of slavery and freedom, of promise and fulfillment.  All the rest, including this beautiful spring on the Plateau and my languishing veggie garden, will have to wait until at least tomorrow.  Maybe I can even get some pictures to break up this "wall of words" for you!

Please, those of you who care about the Christian yearly cycle -- remember that we do celebrate FIFTY days of Easter!  It's as important as the twelve days of Christmas!  Keep celebrating!  How can you NOT when spring is here??

Whew!

Well, last Saturday night I got home from our Episcopal General Convention, held every 3 years.  The trip from Tennessee to Anaheim, California, is a big one, on a number of levels.  It was overwhelming, amazing, hard work, but with a bit of time to play.  I didn't expect to go, as I was a 2nd alternate deputy, with only the regular deputies and the first alternate having a paid spot.  But the first alternate had to drop out, and I got an expense-paid trip, with 5 days' notice.  Everything fell into place in the most remarkable way: dog care, supply clergy, kitty care, and all the rest).  This is my fourth General Convention, but the first one where I haven't been a visitor, and actually felt some responsibility to do some work!  There was a lot of work to do, though I had the easiest end of things, being an alternate, and only called into duty when deputies needed to be off the floor of the legislative session.  Still, there was a lot to do, a lot to learn.  I admit, I only got to the health club once, and didn't get to the pool or hot tub a single time.  I went to committee hearings and legislative sessions.  But I was only an alternate -- it was our deputies, who also had committee responsibilities, who worked so very hard.  I loved it, and did also work hard myself, and saw my friend Fran, and we talked and talked and talked.  I haven't seen her in 7-9  years, but I think we had even more to say to each other, more to share about common interests and activities, than we did back when.  Oh, I finally counted and figured it was close to four hours we were together, but it felt like 1/2 hour.  For anyone who thinks folks on the internet are axe-murderers:  neither Fran nor I seem to show any proclivities for that.

But after 2 weeks away, it sure was good to get home.  I've loved being with my dogs again.  I've loved sleeping in my own bed.  I've loved being back in the weekly routine of office hours, services, bible study, and the people I love here in Tennessee.  It was great being with colleagues and our dear bishop in California, but home is always best, isn't it?  I know I won't be here in Crossville for the rest of my life; but right now, right here, it feels absolutely right.

I spent the week debriefing from the time away.  The Convention did enact some controversial resolutions dealing with openly GLBT people in the discernment process for ministry -- ordained or not.  We made the news in those places where people find religious news.  This had to be presented to the people here at home, the people in the pews.  But I didn't really get fully caught up on what happened here while I was gone, both at work and at home, and now I'm heading out again!  I'm going to Buffalo (where, I'm sure you  remember, I lived for 24 years), and will see my best friend's new house.  I will spend a few days by the lake, where I can just unwind and get back to my true self.  I'll see lots of old friends.  I've taken care of all the details I need to take care of, and now can do my laundry and re-pack my bags, and I'm out of here soon.

I'll miss my garden, I confess.  There are beans, cucumbers, and tomatoes (finally!) to pick, weeds to pull, and grapes to watch.  I've recently (finally!) transplanted annuals into pots and containers for my porches.  They need watching and watering.  There's always more to prune and burn and spray.  I don't use a lot of poison, but just today I attacked my bumper crop of poison ivy.  I've watched it uneasily for long enough -- now it needs eradication!

But I will enjoy the cool of Buffalo (I hope  -- it can get hot there, but on average is lovely in the summertime.  And when we go out to the lake, in a camping trailer on the Rez, near Silver Creek, it's bound to be even cooler and more refreshing (though sometimes rainy, right there 100 yards from the lake).  I can't wait.  I need this time to rest and revitalize, before a 6-week return to work, and then my 3-week trip to Italy.  I know I will be nourished by the love of my friends.  My best friend Cheryl and I are truly soul friends.  Despite each of our tendencies for self-preoccupation, we always listen eagerly and offer free, unsolicited advice to one another.  I know Cheryl holds me in her heart always (as I do her), and that kind of acceptance allows for deep rest and re-creation.

How is travel for all of you?

Happy Summer!

Once again, it took a friend to remind me that I haven't been blogging in some time!  I'm sure you all can identify with the way the days just fly by for me, slipping through my fingers.  Every day I think of this blog, and plan to write something; and I try to keep up with reading all of yours, too, but I seem to go from one thing to the next, and one of the "things" I get to isn't getting a blog post done!

As I said, I've been busy.  And it's full summer here on the Plateau, and that means hot and humid!  So I've been doing lots of indoor activities, like shopping and napping.

At the end of last month, I went to a collage workshop that was given by a couple of women who are in my spiritual directors' peer group.  The theme was on the various questions that Jesus asks in the Gospels, and two that caught my ear were, "What do you want me to do for you?" (answer:  take away my fearfulness), and "What are you afraid of?"  The boards we used were the centers cut from mat board -- wonderful material on which to collage.  Rather than naming my fears, I chose to make affirmative statements, because I knew I would want to focus on it.  Here's mine:
Hell's bells, I'm not happy with this picture, but it's the best I could do.  I'm sure it's my editing of it, but I'm not going to mess with it now.  If I did, it would be another month before I got a post done.  Oh, well.  Live and learn.

I wish you could read the words and see the pictures better.  You can see the bright colors, which make me feel positive.  Under the "Freedom" is a beautiful dove.  Above that it says, "Choosing Faith Over Fear," and the little strip below the chalice says, "breakthrough."  The little orange card at the lower right is a quote from Robert Louis Stevenson:  "To travel hopefully is a better thing than to arrive."  Making this small, simple piece reminded me how important it is for me to do even simple creative projects.  I'm grateful for the reminder.

I've been shopping for my Italy trip.  Got a good leather knapsack, some lightweight tops (to wear with lightweight skirts I already have), some good walking shoes.  I'm busy plotting out my itinerary, and finding more and more black madonna sites that I'd like to visit.  I've got a summer's worth of research to do before I can even decide where I need to stay.  Got a recommendation from a friend to check out Hostelling International, and for 18 bucks (yes, I qualify as a senior) I think I'll join.  Most hostels offer single rooms, and the prices are excellent.  I'll continue to explore monasteries, as well.

You can see that my gardening is happening in fits and starts:

The front porch is still a work in progress.  I've filled three big pots, and still have a window box to do.  Then I have several backyard planters; meanwhile, the plants are languishing, poor things.  I need to set them into a tray of water, at least.  There!  I just took ten minutes to do that -- maybe the poor babies will live to grow another day.

I keep working at things in bits and pieces, but that seems all I'm capable of and have time for right now.  Lots keeps happening on the church front, including lots of folks in the hospital.  I'll get it all done before I go on vacation in late July, though -- I'm sure of that.

The veggie garden is thriving, including the weeds.  I've got all kinds of baby veggies, and with the heat has come the tremendous growth spurt I expected.  Rain has been forecast every day for ages, and some folk on the Plateau are getting it, but it seems to pretty much skip over my little corner of the world.  This morning I got about 8 drops of rain before I walked the dogs, then maybe a 10-minute shower during the 8:00 am church service, and that was it.

This is the fullest view of the veggie garden I could get in a pinch.  In the lower right corner, barely visible, are my grape tomatoes and Italian parsley.  I'm pretty sure it's all weeds on the lower left.  The next bed in has beans and bell peppers -- the beans are really taking off, beginning to blossom.  They look like they'd like something to climb on, even though they're supposed to be bush beans.  Last year they were in the bed at the bottom of this picture, and the deer ate them nearly clear down to the ground.  Not this year!  They don't munch much on tomato plants, so that's what went near the fence.  The patch of dirt at the bottom is Swiss chard that hasn't sprouted yet.  The third bed from the bottom has all tomatoes, except for 2 bell papper plants.  The tomatoes are Romas and Better Boy.  Beyond that are watermelon, and beyond that, my strawberry bed.

You can see that my "Spicy Globe" basil is thriving -- about time to clip some (I have two plants) for my tomatoes.

I'm eating lots of tomatoes these days.  They're available, juicy and ripe, in all the fresh produce stores.  It's a minor competition around these parts, to see who can get their tomatoes in earliest, and get them to the farmer's market, or garden center, or produce store, or farm stand, the soonest.  I've failed miserably at that, getting most of my stuff in after Mother's Day this year -- a really safe, "sissy" date to plant.  The best trick I've heard is to put some fresh cow or horse manure beneath a thin layer of soil in the bottom of your planting hole -- the manure is "hot" enough to warm the roots of your plants and encourage them to grow, even at pretty cold temperatures.  And you've got built-in fertilizer!
Look at the teeny baby cuke!  I've actually got one bigger than that on this plant, but still a few days too small to harvest.  This one will be full-size within a week, probably.  They grow really fast!  And that's a good thing, because I'm learning about using cucumber slices in place of crackers for cheese spreads.  A friend gave me some local chevre with Italian herbs, and yum!  Unfortunately, I'm doing a 2-week, low-carb food plan, and can't have those lovely, buttery and crunchy little crackers.  So cucumber slices are not too bad as a substitute.  I'm also eating quite a bit of salad, and enjoying the cukes and those ripe, juicy tomatoes in salads.  Soon I'll have them from my very own garden!

Here, happily, are some little bitty grape tomatoes.  Yum, yum, they're my favorites!  I am so glad that I went to the garden to take these pictures, because I hadn't seen anything but grapes and the one cuke so far, and I was getting worried (why do I do that?).  Now I'm much reassured that I will have produce this year, probably more than I can eat.  Have I told you here that I freeze my tomatoes by sticking them whole or cut into chunks into quart or gallon size freezer bags?  If you chunk them, unless you freeze them spread out on a cookie sheet first, they're going to stick together -- so I usually put the chunked-up ones in quart bags.  But the whole tomatoes don't stick together, and so I freeze them in the gallon bags, and then just pour out as many as I need for a soup or sauce.  No, I don't blanch or peel them first.  Yes, I have to contend with (or ignore) peels at cooking time.  But the romas can be dropped one-by-one into hot soup, then speared almost immediately with a fork, and the skins slide right off.  I almost always consider the skins as "bonus fiber" and leave them in, unless I'm making something fancy.
I promise, this is the last veggie photo, though I have some other non-veggie photos to share, too.  Aren't my grapes just wonderful?  I can't remember if they're the reds or the whites, but the other vine didn't produce very well.  The only bad part about these lovelies are that they hang on the outside of the fence, and if the birds don't get 'em before I do, I'm afraid that the deer will!  But this is the first year I've had any significant production of grapes at all.  Last year I had one very small bunch, very good, but very small, and that was it.  So this year I'm thrilled.

Now, just a few more pictures.  Do you need another beer, or glass of iced tea, or something?  Now would be the time to get it.  I can't help it -- once I get going, I have a hard time stopping.  Next time I'll try to find something more interesting to natter about.

Now, isn't this bee balm pretty?  Last year a neighbor, a gardening buddy, gave me bee balm and bright pink yarrow, and I put them in this "nursery bed" until I could figure out what I wanted to do with them.  Look how big they've grown!  Somehow I thought they would be knee high, and instead, they are shoulder-high.  I love them.  It has been a great year for flowers on the Plateau, probably owing to a cool spring and lots of sunshine.  I'm also going to post a closeup of the bee balm, because it's so pretty, and so unusual-looking.  No simple daisy-shapes here!

Doesn't it look like some kind of strange, alien thing?  I love it.  Very delicate.

Now I have only one more picture I'm going to share with you.  I took a couple more, but I do want you to see a problem I'm facing in my back yard.  My predecessor here planted some very beautiful, very invasive variegated bamboo.  It's everywhere, and I can't get rid of it.  I have a corner bed that has many interesting things planted in it, bordered by boxwood.  You'll see in the photograph that the bamboo is taking over everything, and you can barely even see the boxwood.  I can cut it down, of course -- did last year, which caused it to grow up even thicker and more beautiful than ever.  I may try to rescue the plants that are struggling to coexist in this bed -- but I'm afraid if I move them, I'll bring along shards of bamboo, too, and it will soon invade elsewhere.  I could spray it with poison, but I hate using poison, and would probably kill everything else growing in this bed (Solomon's seal, hostas, a Japanese painted fern, and a bunch of other stuff that I can't even identify).  I don't want to kill everything, but I'd sure be happy to get rid of some of this bamboo!

Isn't it pretty?  Isn't it lush?  Can you find the boxwood?  Nope.  How about the hostas and other stuff?  Sigh.  I'm about to just give the whole bed over to the stuff, and abandon all hope and all the other lovely things there.  Sob.

So just one more thing.  The low-carb food plan I referred to.  I'm on day 9 of 14.  It's Dr. Phil's Rapid Start Weight Loss Plan.  It's only a jump-start prelude to his much more moderate and wise weight loss plan, which I intend to follow.  Basically the Rapid-Start Plan is carbs (breads and grains) only at breakfast, small portions of everything but veggies, and just a little fat.  In 9 days I've lost 6 pounds -- not too bad, though I'm pretty sure I did as well in my first week of Weight Watchers, way back when.  But the thing is, I finally decided that I should quit waiting for a hero to come along and save me from myself -- I guess I'm going to have to step up and be the hero of my own life (I think Elizabeth Gilbert used that in "Eat, Pray, Love").  Losing weight is difficult, but it's not rocket science: eat less and move more, right?  So I've ramped up my runs to 45 minutes, 5 days a week, and continue to try to get to yoga 2-3 times a week.  I want to do a little weight work at home, too:  building fat-burning muscle, and all that.  I've got to get some weight off so I can dress more comfortably, fly to Italy more comfortably, and walk more comfortably once I get there.  I finally faced up to the numbers and now admit that I have about 85 pounds to lose.  Sigh and sob again.  But the good news is, that I'm doing it.  I always believed that I needed carbs to feel satisfied, and couldn't imagine a meal without a carb.  Of course, my mom was always a meat-and-potatoes kind of cook, meat, starch, and vegetable.  But if I do it right, I can be quite satisfied with minimal carbs.  It really is an addiction of some kind, thinking I need my bread!  So this week I've allowed myself to feel pretty smug.  I've done well, even in the light of temptations like the parish barbecue dinner, complete with potato salad and cake for dessert.  Skipped 'em both.  If I do it right, I don't even get cravings, though I've had them from time to time this week.  Five more days and I can have a glass of wine and a cracker with my cheese.

It's 49 years since my father died.  I miss him this Father's Day.

Now it's off to bed with my journal and my mug of ice water.  It has been a good day.  Happy solstice!  Happy summer!

The Mystified Gardener: Spring Fever

How can it be that I missed the first day of spring?  I'll tell you how -- I was outside, working hard, and didn't give the day a thought!  I love spring, love, love, LOVE.  Spring and fall are my two favorite seasons, and probably spring the most, though in this State (Tennessee) of hot, humid summers, seeing summer finally break is also a treat.  I've done my first gardening, and am seeing the results.  Look:

It's two of my first three rows of spinach, sprouting!  I've never had spinach sprout!  I think I always planted it too late -- it's definitely a cool-weather crop, and needs to be sown here very early.  I know, you can see that the soil is dry.  I thought I might hold out for rain, but I promise that tomorrow I will water it by hand, with tender loving care, even though it's supposed to rain on Wednesday.  I'm not going to risk it.  I should have done it sooner, even.  But I'm so thrilled to see it coming up!  While I'm out there, I'm going to till soil and plant 3 more short rows, as well as some lettuce and peas.  I'm planting things that don't grow high in the bed near the fence, because last year my green beans were decimated by deer!  I don't think they can reach in far enough to get to spinach and lettuce in this bed.  I'm also going to hang shiny CDs to startle them away.  People advocate smelly and even toxic repellants, but I just can't.  I'll try the old-fashioned stuff first.  I asked for those disposable aluminum pie tins on Freecycle, but nobody responded.  So I think shiny CDs (I have tons from AOL, otherwise known as AO-Hell) hung at frequent intervals might provide a deterrant.  We'll see.

Here's one more veggie garden shot: 

The rhubarb is up -- all 3 crowns of it!  I see some little pest has been at it already on one leaf -- but we don't eat the leaves anyway!  Now I've just got to get some compost and manure on it, as well as seeing to the grapevines, raspberries, strawberries, perennial herbs (rosemary and thyme, and sage in the front perennial bed), and especially the asparagus crowns.  The garden is way full of suspicious and menacing little holes in those beds -- maybe my fence didn't sink deep enough?  Hmmm.  Lots of work to be done there.

But this spring, I have a new love.  Yes, I've spent some time cutting brush and also thorny locust sprouts from the fencerow and the only growth that separates me from a fairly major highway.  And I've enjoyed that.  Some regular attention to these spaces could enhance my quality of life, seriously.  I'm very close to US (not Interstate) 70, which runs from who knows where to Nashville, and beyond.  Lots of traffic, except for the very wee hours of the morning (let's say from 2 till 5 am).  What I really would like is some kind of tall, soundproof barrier, like they use on the Interstates.  That's not going to happen.  So instead of the wild assortment of wild rose, locust suckers, hickory and oak starters from nuts the squirrels have buried, and those low plants with pointy leaves whose name currently escapes me (not agave -- what?), and poison ivy -- I'd like to cultivate a tall privet hedge from the privet that grows wild and invasively here.  The oak and hickory trees are fine, but I don't like the other stuff.  Some privet is coming up already, and all I need to do is let it grow.  Eventually someone could cut it down every 5 years or so, and it would grow tall and thick and give me privacy, at least, if not a bit of a sound barrier.  Also, out there in front, something is killing my hemlocks.  Since I refuse to use any kind of poison, my guess is that it's some pest, and they will all die eventually.  I'd love it if this strong and essentially evergreen privet would grow thick instead.

But I haven't told you about my new love yet.  It's a labyrinth.  For years, I've dreamed that this parish might fund and create a labyrinth on its grounds.  We have 18.8 acres, and about an acre of cleared space behind the church (partly for parking, partly just a clearing, but all underlaid with gravel, so not "getting stuck in mud" territory).  I dreamed of a labyrinth that might attract anyone on a spiritual journey in all of Cumberland County.  Well, no-go.  Before this year, people didn't have the knowledge, energy, or interest.  This year, nobody has the funds, either.  Within the last few months, I've walked a couple of simple, non-fussy labyrinths, one in the backyard of a colleague.  I've decided that I can do this.  I've researched patterns on-line.  I got an easy-to-construct, 7-circuit classical labyrinth.  Then, as I ran with my dogs one day, I found a nearly endless source of stone.  I have a clearing in my own backyard, in the wooded area behind the lawn, where I could construct this thing.  I decided to build myself a personal labyrinth, that I will happily share with all parishioners.  It's in my back yard -- well, in the woods right behind my back yard.  Here it is:

So far, so good.  It has really been fun.  I found the pattern from the internet, and I found a really good source of stone (a subdivision under development -- every time  you move earth on a mountaintop, you get lots of stone!).  You can see that I'm already running into "tree issues."  I'll eventually mulch the path with a variety of things -- wood chips, pine needles, whatever comes along.  But I've only laid out maybe half of it, maybe not even that, since the circuits get bigger each time around.  That's still lots of stone to gather and lay!  The paths are two feet wide, and I started out with an 8-foot diameter "seed pattern."  I'm loving it.

Other good spring news is that lots of things are in bloom around here.  Daffodils and hyancinths are in full bloom, and the earliest ones are fading already.  The cherry tree and quince are starting.  The viburnum by the front door is fading fast, as are the witch hazels and (plentiful) Lenten roses.  I have a pretty little star magnolia that got terribly damaged in our April freeze two years ago.  We had to cut back dead wood severely, but it did survive:
 
It's a little lopsided and considerably smaller than it was 2 years ago, but it has survived!  I like survivors (like me).  Behind it you can see the veggie garden, and behind that the woodsy-brushy screen that conceals the labyrinth.

I love having this much space.  I love it that the magnolia is in bloom.  Within a week or so the pink one behind the potting shed will bloom.  A few weeks later, I'll get something from the dark one (almost maroon) outside my back door.  I've been watching the courtship at my bird feeder  outside the dining room window.  It's all such a pleasure.  It's nearly time to fill the hummingbird feeders.

There's more gardening work than I can ever do by myself -- ever, ever, ever.  But I've decided once again to enjoy myself.  As long as it's fun and soul-satisfying, I'll do it.  I'll take little stabs at it here and there, time after time.  Nothing will ever be perfect, but in the gentle course of time, everything will be better than it is now.  Having my hands in the dirt is something I expect I'll need for as long as I live -- at least a bit.  Maybe eventually a raised bed or window box will be enough, but the dirt literally "grounds" me.  Gotta do it.

I hope you all know the satisfaction of tending living things.  I hope you can have the experience of feeding people with what you've grown with your own hands.  God does love a garden.