One Wild and Precious Life

Advent at My House

I'm having the loveliest Advent -- very peaceful and serene and low-key.  So far my decorations consist of a wreath on the front door, my (artificial) tree with lights and no ornaments, my Advent wreath, and the very beginnings of my creche.

 

 

Here is the Advent wreath as I originally set it up this year -- you can see, very spare and simple, not low-energy, just calm.  I've got plenty of purple and pink candles (some left over from last year), so I can burn it in the evening while I'm watching TV or writing in my journal.  I haven't put a Christ candle in the center, but will do that, to burn from Christmas Eve until Epiphany.

 

Here it is with a little bit of dressing-up:

 

Just some green (artificial) apples, some shiny golden apple ornaments, and a single gold "icicle" that I found on my living room rug (no doubt carried down from my studio amidst packing materials used to prepare one special parcel.  I don't know -- I kind of like it plain, now that I see the two pictures juxtaposed here.  I may put those things in the middle away again.

I mailed Cheryl's package on Monday and scheduled to arrive at its northerly destination next Monday!  I never get my packages mailed to arrive on time -- what is happening to me?  I may be possessed by some angelic spirit!

 

Here's my simple little tree:

Perhaps it looks a little forlorn in this shot -- but when it's a little dark in the room and the lights are twinkling, it's a pretty sight, all on its own -- and I doubt I'll add any ornaments, unless I'm seized with a fever of Christmas spirit in the next few days.  I've had lots of years without a tree at all -- maybe a poinsettia, or even a Norfolk Island Pine in a pot.  And this tree has little red berries attached, and just a dusting of artificial snow.  Next year when I get them out again,  I'll appreciate my beloved tree ornaments all the more. 

 

 

 I honestly thought it would be just the traditional manger scene:  family, shepherds, kings, a few animals.  But I couldn't resist adding a few of the figures I have around the house, including St. Francis, Buddha, Guadalupe, and the plane that seems to have landed on the stable roof.  My funny figures, all gathered around and waiting for the baby Jesus, always make me smile.  I probably won't unwrap Santa, Elvis, the snack wagon, the park bench, or the street lamps this year...

but every day a few more figures find their way to Bethlehem:

 

 

Here you see a few more animals and figures  -- the Infant of Prague, St. Patrick, the Virgin of Loreto (oh, wait, she was in the first picture), some cats, and a few more.  If you click on the picture, it will open to a larger version.  The Holy Family, of course, won't arrive until Christmas Eve (they're in the dining room right now), and the kings won't get there till Epiphany.  The animals are already there, because that's where they live.  This year's addition (I usually buy a new figure each year) was a dinosaur, there just left of the donkey.  All of creation awaits the Christ child, after all.

 

So that's basically it.  I'm not really energized to do elaborate decorating this year.  I'm not depressed, but rather seem to be investing my energy in things like arranging to see my family sometime during the week after Christmas.  I haven't been to Indiana during the Christmas season for years -- maybe decades!  And getting packages into the mail on time, and tending my flock here.  Last night we had a parish Christmas party, and it was lovely to see folks in their party duds coming together just to have fun, and because we like each other.

I also have time to do a little reading and meditating on what Christmas is really all about.  It's a great way to be living in this frantic season -- by not being frantic.  I don't have special foods to cook, or lots of gifts to buy (that's already done), or parties to attend.  I do have some more wrapping to do, but it will get done all in good time.  I've got a few cards to send, some of which will be electronic ones.

I hope each of you can find some quiet space in the season to just put your feet up and enjoy it all, rather than being too busy to notice that a miracle is happening.

Goats

Okay, my friend Fran posted this You-Tube of goats on her blog.  It was so darned cute that I couldn't resist sharing it with you.  I also put it on ny facebook, but I can't get a picture to share with you.  It's very cute, though -- go watch it.  I have parishioners who raise goats, and she describes one stage of "kid-hood" as deet-dee-deet-dee-deedley-deet."  That's what these babies are doing.  If you watch this video, you'll also see links to lots and lots more of them.  What fun!

My friend Fran also is immersed in lots of art-making.  She is a trained facilitator for Soul Collage, and makes really fine pieces herself.  I miss doing that, and may drag out my own collage book and work on a page.  This is, of course, a way to avoid what I really need to be doing, which is gathering, wrapping, and mailing Christmas gifts, finding who's left gift-less on my list, and making plans to purchase and send those gifts, post-haste.  I'm terrible about gifts, and mostly get them out before Epiphany.  Some years, if things are busy at church, I admit I don't get them out at all.  That's especially egregious as my friends and family are so very good about making sure that I have gifts to open on Christmas morning, since my holidays are spent mostly alone.  There's nothing nicer than coming in after Midnight Mass and opening a gift or two before bed.  Then I rewrite my sermon for the morning as I listen to carols, and fall into bed, only to get up Christmas morning for another service.

My Buddhist book group was cancelled today because an ice storm is expected.  We're studying Pema Chodron's Start Where You Are, one chapter per month -- and the chapters are really short!  But I'm finding that the month really gives me time to make the material part of who I am, part of my own thought process.

I find much of what Chodron says to be helpful in my dealings with other people, and in my parish work.  For a long time I've felt as though there's great overlap between Christian spiritual or wisdom teaching and Buddhist teaching.  This was first brought home to me when reading Thich Nhat Hanh.  Marcus Borg also refers to it in Reading the Bible Again for the First Time.  There are lots of conservative Episcopalians who would find my saying this horrifying, but it's true -- anyone can see it, if they take the time to do a little reading and study.

It has been so cold here that I've been drinking lots of hot tea -- decaf chai, whole milk, no sugar.  I make it in my coffee maker -- just run hot water through into the pot where the tea bags await.  A pot can last me a day or even two sometimes.  I use 8 bags for 10 cups of hot water, and just leave the bags in till the tea is all gone.  It doesn't get bitter or too strong.  Or maybe my taste buds are just failing me!

Everyone stay safe and warm, and pray that no harm or damage come to us up here on the Plateau, if the ice storm really hits.

'Tis Advent

Comin' on Christmas now.  This is the eve of the First Sunday of Advent, and in the Church, as is our Jewish heritage, we may begin to celebrate the day on the eve of the prior day.

This is my Advent wreath this year.  I have a simple brass ring that I generally place in a tray or bowl and decorate to suit.  This year I have the ring set on a platter with a raised lip, and filled with a base layer of privet, then holly from my holly tree on top.  The purple berries around the edges are also privet.  I may have to change everything out in a week or two, depending on how everything holds up in the house-- but I sure like the look of it now.

This year I'm using liturgical purple, rather than blue.  Blue is the Sarum (English) use, which has come into favor in the Episcopal Church in recent years, because it emphasizes our particularly English heritage.  Some years I like blue, but this year it's purple.  I've got to learn to stage my pictures better, removing binoculars and birdwatching books!

Here's my Christmas wreath, decorated simply for Advent for the next 4 weeks.  In this picture, that ribbon looks as blue as anything -- but it's not!  That ribbon is a deep purple.  It must be the light, just before twilight.  On our Advent wreath at church, which is a big, beautiful, horizontal brass one, we have some interesting elements added: cinnamon, straw, boxwood, orange peel, holly, and maybe a couple of other things.  They all have symbolic significance, and we have a parishioner who puts them on every year, along with pretty purple bows.  I really appreciate Dorothy doing that so beautifully each year; it adds depth and meaning to our Advent season.  This year I may make my own little bundles and add them to my door wreath; if I do, I promise to take pictures and explain all the symbols.

As for the wreath, come Christmas I'll decorate it more festively -- with a bright ribbon, or holly, or perhaps with the sweet little garland I bought last year with tiny mittens hanging from it.

I hope you all had a lovely Thanksgiving celebration.  I ordered a wonderful organic, free-range turkey (yes, expensive, but truly worth it).  I was alone for the day, and so decided to make only the foods I like:  turkey, cranberry-orange-walnut relish, rolls, cream cheese dip for veggie sticks, stuffing (truly stuffed inside the turkey, to absorb all the lovely juices), gravy and this year, a pumpkin pie.  It was all perfectly delicious, but for the first time I realized how perfectly excessive it was.  Keep in mind this is a girl who survived (and thrived!) most of the summer on cereal for breakfast and a big late-afternoon salad.  Yes, I've been feasting for 3 days now, and will continue to do so when I make the soup from the carcass.  But no one individual really needs (or wants, truth be told) that much food.  It's almost sickening, even as I continue to stuff myself.  A friend, also alone, bought herself two turkey thighs, one potato, and some veggies.  I'll do that at Christmas, probably -- substituting stuffing for potato.  I froze nearly half of what I made (turkey, relish, and stuffing) this month -- maybe I'll just thaw and heat next month.

In a weird way, it feels good to notice and be disgusted by the excessiveness.  I think it's the first time I've been aware of it.

For a Sunday Advent class, we're reading and discussing Marcus Borg's Reading the Bible Again for the First Time.  It's available used for as low as $1.51 in paperback.  Amazing.  I like this book so far.  Maybe I didn't tell you the story of my new philosophy of adult Christian education in this parish.  It's a little long, but kind of funny.  One of my strengths as a priest is as a passionate teacher of things spiritual and theological.  When I came to this parish, my understanding was that they longed for someone who would educate them.  I was thrilled.  Except for the Wednesday bible study, which is growng steadily, I get a very low turnout (3-6) for my adult ed offerings.  I've been steadily frustrated and crushed by this, having spent long hours designing and preparing courses and materials.  One day I realized that I was led by the search committee, and especially by those individuals who visited me in Buffalo, to believe this parish was longing for education.  And two of the three who visited me (and with whom I had hours of extended conversations at the time) were in fact people who were avid for education -- but they did not reflect the overall demographic of the parish!  And they are both gone now, having moved away to be closer to their adult children.

Initially I was angry at the lack of response to my hard work.  Then (also in anger, I think) I just stopped offering anything but the bible study, which I love, and the participants also love.  Recently I realized that I love to teach, and also to learn in a community of learners.  I love book groups.  So I decided to offer exactly the sorts of things I enjoy doing, and then to enjoy whatever the turnout, because I'm doing something I love.  Last "term" I did a course called "Bible 101," poorly attended, but I had fun.  This "term," for Advent (that's where I began this post), we're doing the book discussion, over a casserole lunch.  Last week was our first week, and 3 people attended -- but we ate together and discussed together, and what fun we had!  So we'll spend 3 more weeks on this (including next week), be free for Advent 4, when we'll decorate the church for Christmas, and have fun along the way.  I haven't read this book, but like Marcus Borg, and so far am enjoying it immensely, even when I disagree with him (which isn't often).

So okay, there it is.  This is the first time I've transferred an image from the web to my blog, so it's a new learning for me.

That's about it this week.  I'm waiting for the coming of Christ.  I'm waiting for the final coming, as well.  I'm trying to figure out why those of us who believe it, are so nervous about it.  Maybe it's our guilty conscience.

My friend Fran, who inspires me regularly, has suggested that I publish a link to my sermons, and I think I will do that.  I did it one time, I think, but why not every week -- that way I'll be sure to get at least one post each week, won't I?  My sermon for tomorrow is finished, but I always do one last once-over on Sunday morning, so I'll post it tomorrow.  I have a list of folks who receive it each week by email, but if you're reading this blog, my guess is that you'd prefer a link from here.

Be well, my blog friends.  I've got lots of reading to do for tomorrow, so I'll be about that now.  I hope you all can set yourselves apart from the pre-Christmas season of frantic-ness, and just take time to reflect on "the reason for the season," whether that is a Christian reason, or simply the joy of giving, of family and loving relationships, of gratitude spilling over into generosity, or whatever it may be for you.  Don't let the culture drive you, but rather take the time to let the season feed your soul.

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??

Helloooo Out There!

Oh, my, where does the time go?  A whole year has come and gone since I wrote on this blog!  Well, at least the date has turned over to 2010.  My only excuse is that I had an absolutely abysmal Advent, Christmas was fine, but gone in a flash (the whole Twelve Days!), and there doesn't seem to be the lull I expected between Epiphany and Lent.  We've had the Bishop's visit last Sunday (I also celebrated my 10th anniversary of ordination to the priesthood), tomorrow is the annual parish meeting, and next Saturday is our vestry retreat.  For non-Episcopalians, the vestry is like the parish council or board; we meet monthly, but once a year we take the better part of a day to do a little self-evaluation, planning, and envisioning for the next year, as well as to orient new members.  Of course, for each of these big events, there's a lot of planning and preparation that I also do, so it keeps me hopping.

As for the abysmal Advent:  I don't know exactly why or how that came to be, but almost without realizing it, a few days before Christmas, I realized I was very depressed -- so much so that I knew that I needed to monitor myself carefully, and if it continued, get some help and medication.  I think a lot of things came into play all at once, including, of course, post-Italy-adventure letdown.

In any event, on Christmas Eve I woke up, and suddenly everything was all right again.  It felt like a peaceful Christmas Eve morning, and I had energy, and my mood was fine.  I spent the day decorating my house (I had my tree up, and the rest of the decorations in from the garage, but hadn't had the energy to decorate), including hanging some tinsel garland outside (I don't do outdoor lights) and buying a new garland for my front door wreath, with little mittens on it.  Very cute.  I did some grocery shopping, including a turkey roast (with light and dark meat -- perfect!), a duck (frozen -- to cook on New Year's), and a beef rib roast.  I had gifts to open from family, and especially, as always, from my generous friend Cheryl, who is the best gift-giver I know.  I had a festive little house.  My sermon was done, and my time was my own until some time before the 10 pm Christmas Eve service.

I had a great week after Christmas, doing some intensive journaling, reviewing 2009 and preparing for a new decade.  I started a new book, When the Heart Waits by Sue Monk Kidd, and I'm still reading it, little bit by bit, savoring just a page or two at a time.  Her language is beautiful, and she captures that time of transition and discernment so well.

Now my decorations are mostly down (though not completely packed up and put away).  I tend to leave the predominantly red, white, and silver stuff out through February, when I begin to switch over to green for spring and St. Paddy's day.

I will continue my Italy travelogue another day.  I'm still working my way through it all.  But here's a photo I'll leave you with -- my creche for Christmas 2009-10.

I hope you can get a clearer image if you click on it.  I didn't put all my critters there, but the dragon on the roof of the stable is new, and I'm not sure I used the airplane (also on the roof)  Elvis and Santa are there, as usual, along with the snack truck, the street lights, and the little mouse, offering the baby Jesus his piece of cheese.  It makes me smile every time I walk by.

I will also leave you with one Italy shot:

I ate lunch here one day, just outside Altavilla Milicia, which is about 20k from Palermo (Sicily).  It's a great story that I promise to tell one of these days.  The trees in the foreground are lemon trees -- the lemons are green in Sicily -- and that blue line at the horizon is, of course, the ocean.  The restaurant owner gave me a bag of lemons, right off the trees, which I took back to my landlady in Palermo.  What you can't see off the far right edge of the photo is a line of several attached cottages -- kind of like old-fashioned motels used to have.  Now I didn't ask, but I'm convinced that at least some of them are summer vacation rentals, and my fantasy is that I will spend my retirement winters in one of those cottages, writing books and walking my dogs to the seaside every day.

Incidentally, at midnight in Palermo, it's 55 degrees F and partly cloudy right now.  As a man said on the train one day, "Ahhh, Eeetaly!"

Happy Easter!

Well, we've passed through the glory and the agony of Holy Week, and now we're in the Great Fifty Days of Easter.  You've gotta love a holiday that lasts not just 12 days, like Christmas, but a full 50 days!  Yep, that's Christian Easter!  We get Easter clear up to the Day of Pentecost (May 31 this year)!  Yay!

This week has been a week of "normalcy" in my schedule, and also of holy rest.  I've slept deeply every single night, and also napped every day, I think.  Holy Week, if you really enter into it, can be an intense and exhausting experience for anyone.  If you're a priest, it's a lot of activity.  And if you're in a really good spiritual place and a priest, it's a lot of very intense activity.  And even though it doesn't seem like a lot of work at the time, because the spiritual energy is so intense -- afterward, a good rest is in order.  Most priests take the week after Easter off; I chose not to because I'm taking a week from this coming Wednesday to the following Wednesday (more about that later), and also because I will take time in the summer, as well as the 3 weeks in the fall to go to Italy (2 weeks of which will be continuing education time).  So I'm gently resting in the midst of a return to normal parish life.

On Monday, though, here's what I got done:

Yes, the labyrinth is completed!!  I'm not sure what drove me to do it on Easter Monday, except that it was a beautiful day, and there was only that one circuit to complete.  It did mean collecting and hauling two trunkloads of stone, but I did seem to have the energy and motivation!  I'm so very pleased with it, and will tell you about this evening's experience later.  I want to talk about two more things first.

I'm preparing for a retreat in St. Louis.  It's for an Anglican religious order called "The Worker Sisters of the Holy Spirit" (there are also Worker Brothers).  I'll be installed as a "companion" in this order at the retreat.  The theme this year is interfaith approaches to prayer and meditation.  We're leaving out all the theology, and skipping right to the heart -- the encounter with The Holy in each of the 5 major religious traditions:  Hinduism, Judaism, Buddhism, Christianity, and Islam.  I get to make a presentation on Christian meditation (and contemplative prayer), and then engage in a dialogue with a Zen master.  I'm so excited.  What a wonderful opportunity for first-hand interchange and learning.  I've long loved Thich Nhat Hanh, and his writings about the intersections between Christianity and Buddhism.  Wish me well!

I will also get to see my family for a brief time on this trip, and I miss them.  I'm really, really looking forward to it.  I'll stay in my sister-in-law's home, and also get to see my wonderful grand-niece, Madeline Anne.  Yay!  And on the way back, I'll see my brother, too.  My last remaining brother, who was so very good to me when I was a little girl.

The second thing I want to talk to you about is this:  Susan Boyle.  I post the URL for the two people in the whole world who haven't seen this appearance on "Britain's Got Talent."  Why, you might ask, do I bother to post it, to mention it?  Why on earth would I possibly care about a plain, rather chubby, perhaps invisible middle-aged woman, who comes across a little bit ditsy at times, but who is, as Simon Cowell says, "a little tiger," and possesses a pearl of great price within her?  Gosh, I don't know.  Don't have a clue.  All I know is that I listen to this You-Tube broadcast over and over and over, and cry and laugh every time.

Now:  tonight's labyrinth walk.  I've been walking pretty much every day.  Having my own labyrinth is as great a privilege as, say, having my own swimming pool or hot tub (how I'd love those!)  As you may have gathered, this time in my life is incredibly spiritually rich for me.  So I quiet myself at the start, as I always do.  I have no particular question or problem as I begin, but I'm aware of being both incredibly grateful, and also that I need to ask so much for myself.  "Thank you" and "Please" are the words that I can articulate.  I begin to walk quietly and meditatively.  Almost immediately I notice sticks and dead vines (that I've pulled as I was building it) in the path.  I stoop each time to pick them up, and soon I have one hand nearly full.  Then I hear God's voice.  It's in my head, but I don't believe it's my own self-talk voice.  It says, "Take care of what I've given you."  And I know that voice is about taking care of the labyrinth (which was totally a God thing, as far as I'm concerned -- I couldn't have done that much work all on my own), but it's about so much more, too, in ever-widening circles.  It's about taking care of myself: my body, mind, and soul; my pets; my home; my family; my parish and all I encounter in the course of my work; this community, and yes, even the world, praying and advocating in whatever ways I can.  "Take care of what I've given you."  Yes, it's a call and a big job, but also a big gift, to hear this.  I'm not sure I deserve to have heard God's voice, but I have.

Now:  Have any of you heard God's voice?  I don't seem to hear it as some biblical characters do -- coming from the outside, like "hearing voices" (in our culture, that's a sign of mental illness).  No, my experience of this (I actually only have a few times when it has happened) is that it's a voice in my head, but it's not my voice.  If it were my voice, it would have said something like, "I must take care of everything that God has given me."  But this voice definitely said, "Take care of what I've given you."  It was a directive.  That's one of the Big Ways I've heard God's voice.  Often it has been much more subtle -- like an idea or a hunch.  Or a sermon.  Y'all don't possibly think that I just think up or make up my sermons every week, do you?  Nope.  I consider them gifts that are "given" to me, almost like dictation that I just copy down.

Anyhow.  When I hear God's voice, I always want to tell someone.  And I usually think maybe it's a message that's not just for me, but for other people, too.  So maybe there are things you all need to treasure more, and take better care of, too.  Well, if the shoe fits, is all I can say.

But I do hope you're rejoicing in the power of the Spirit, and in the power of true Resurrection!

Sabbath, Redux

Well, after my "working vacation" week at Chautauqua, I hit the road for Buffalo.  I knew how badly I missed Cheryl when I sat down as soon as I entered her home, and we talked for about two hours straight.  We stayed in Buffalo that weekend, rather than heading for the Lake; apparently the campground where she parks her trailer has a huge celebration every July 4 weekend, including a big bonfire on the beach, a live band, and all night partying.  Not being the party-hearty gals that we used to be, we chose to stay home.  That gave me the chance to go to church at Calvary Episcopal in Williamsville, NY, where I served as Assistant Rector for 3 1/2 years right out of seminary.  It was great to see familiar faces, but I did forget that midsummer without air conditioning, even in Buffalo, can be a tad warm.

Sunday afternoon, 3 old friends came over to Cheryl's, and she prepared an elaborate and wonderful tuna nicoise salad which we munched on all afternoon.  The best part, of course, was the conversation.

Monday, Cheryl and I hit the grocery store and then headed south for a week and a half on Lake Erie.  All I can say is, it was wonderful.  Here are a few pictures:

Our sweet little home.  And below is where I spent a lot of time reading, journaling, and drying out magazines that got left in the rain:

Cheryl is a late sleeper, so I had most of the morning to myself to make coffee, write morning pages, eat breakfast, read, walk the 50 yards or so to get a look at the lake, and putter around.  Fortunately, Cheryl and I both are heavy sleepers, so I could rattle and bang around in the tiny galley kitchen next to her bedroom, and she didn't even roll over.  It was lovely to have that leisurely, solitary (introverted) stretch of morning to ponder the mysteries of the universe.  When Cheryl woke, we would talk while she ate her breakfast.

The  bulk of the day was spent in various leisure pursuits, including trying to find wireless internet access, walking around, or:
I have to ask you: who kidnapped me and put me inside that fat woman's body???  Still, the hammock was heavenly, and even more so after I raised it up higher, so my butt cleared the ground by more than just a couple of inches.

From 3-5 pm I went to the beach every day (well, okay, it did rain a couple of days -- but that's not bad for a week and a half on the lake!).  I love my little rituals, and having a set beach time was perfect.  After the beach it was cocktail hour, and I came home, had a gin & tonic (or 2, or several), and started dinner.  Since I enjoy grilling, Cheryl left that part of the dinner up to me, and she took over table setting and salad-making.  Yum, yum.  We had steak, fish, lamb, chicken, grilled veggies, pre-assembled skewers of meat and veggies, and all manner of wonderful treats.  Evenings were devoted to reading, conversation, the occasional campfire, and reasonable bedtimes for me (though Cheryl tended to stay up late reading).  Oh, and I forgot the nearly nightly walk back to the shore to check out the sunset.
Yes, they looked like this nearly every night.

I was so sad to set out that last morning for home.  I wanted to linger, but I knew I needed to make the whole drive in one day, so an early departure was mandatory.  I wanted to get home Friday night, so I would have all day Saturday to unpack, do laundry, sort and open mail, and generally settle in.

One of the things that Cheryl and I do for one another is share what we're currently interested in, and inspire one another with good ideas and good intentions.  Cheryl has been on a "healthy eating" kick, and she inspired me to add lots of fresh fruits and veggies to my diet.  I'm better than she is about exercise, doing yoga 3+ times a week and running 5 days most weeks.  So the last few days she and I took long, brisk walks together and talked about hopes and dreams and goals.  I think we both got a healthy dose of motivation from each other!

When I got home, I felt energized and inspired.  I went to both the farmer's market and a roadside stand, and bought lots of healthy fruits and veggies.  I decided to cut out cocktail time altogether for a while, all to the aim of losing as much of this excess weight as I can manage.  I got back into my running practice, and also started a home yoga practice, even if just for a few minutes a day.  So far, I've lost 4 1/2 lbs. in the 2 weeks since I got home!  Yay me!  I've also got new energy and enthusiasm for work, which is part of what vacations are for.

So I recommend it.  Exotic travel is great.  Working vacations can also sometimes be great.  But I think God made the Sabbath for us because God knew we needed some time to be still and do nothing worthwhile.  That's where re-creation, even Resurrection, happens.  I'm so grateful for my time away, and so glad to be back home with my work and my dogs!