One Wild and Precious Life

Sabbatical!

Yes, I'm on sabbatical.  Last night I tried my first blog post of the trip, and got hung up by the length of time it took to post photos.  So maybe I'll try again, but not right now.  I need to work on reducing their size for blog posting, I think.

My first question is, how did I ever get so lucky to have work that gives me 3 months of paid leave for "true sabbath," that is, "rest," every 5-7 years?  I certainly didn't know about this when I was in discernment for the priesthood -- I didn't choose this vocation (well, I didn't really choose it anyway -- it kind of chose me) based on getting a sabbatical.  I think I first heard about this when I was graduating from seminary, but I never really dreamed it could happen for me! I tried to plan a sabbatical 3 years ago, and nothing seemed to work out right.  This time, after nearly 10 years at St. Raphael's, everything just seemed to fall into place in the most wonderful ways.

So now I have embarked on the adventure of a lifetime.  I don't think I've had three months off work since the summer after my freshman year of high school.

My plans are in three parts.  The first two weeks I spent with my family, staying with my sister-in-law in Illinois, and haunting Terre Haute, Indiana, where I grew up.  I took many sentimental journeys there, revisiting places and people that meant (and still mean) lots to me in my growing up years.  As I said, I hope to post pictures:  of the 2 houses where I spent my childhood, schools I attended, etc.  I also had the opportunity to spend time with 2 of my life's best friends -- women I've known since we all were 13 years old.  And I had a lovely visit with my one remaining brother, Paul, who was my childhood companion, and who is the only remaining person alive who has known me since I was born (well, except for my Uncle John, whom I haven't seen in decades).

Things aren't always working out as I'd planned (thanks, John Lennon, for saying that life is what happens when you're busy making other plans), but I feel like a sponge, soaking up every experience, every adventure, and learning from it all.  So far, it's wonderful.  Miraculous, even.  I'm eating well and abstinently (no flour, sugar, or alcohol, weighed and measured quantities, regular calls to my dear, long-suffering sponsor).  I'm feeling such gratitude.  I even heard God in church (where else?) last Sunday -- it's great not to have to be "in charge," and just go and sing and listen.  Life is amazing right now.

Now I'm in Buffalo, NY (well, near there, anyway), camping by the lake in my friend Cheryl's cozy, sweet little trailer, and using a mobile hot-spot that I purchased in order to have the internet while I'm here.  My plan is to be here by the lake during the week, when the campground is nearly empty, and then be in Buffalo on the weekends, doing city things.  I'm also hoping to get a lot of writing done.  I'll be here for the next 4 weeks with my faithful dogs -- and with Cheryl, too, beginning next week.  Today it was beautiful in the morning, and then it rained, which was also nice.  I've experimented with my camera's auto-timer, and taken pictures of myself outside, alone and with the dogs.  It's the kind of day when it's hard to know what to wear -- it's damp, so feels cool, but too warm for jeans and sweaters.  So I keep changing clothes.

I've had time for reading (Cynthia Bourgeault, "The Meaning of Mary Magdalene;" Phil Cousineau, "The Art of Pilgrimage;" Richard Rohr, "Breathing Under Water;" Diane Mott Davidson, "Fatally Flaky," and more and more to come).  I've been catching up on Jack's Blog, which I'm enjoying very much.  I've been catching up on email.  I've been taking naps.  I've even been reading Facebook from time to time! Sunday I got to finally see "The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel."  I guess it would be hard to go wrong with the cast it has, but I was simply enchanted.  I could have stayed with those people and watched their lives the whole night, and was sad when the 2 hours was over.

I'm also listening to a lot of old music -- revisiting the past, I guess.  Before I left, I downloaded Beach Boys (yes, it feels like 1966), Neil Diamond (yes, it feels like 1973), the BeeGees (yes, it feels like 1982), James Taylor (1971).  Oh, music can take me right back to how it felt back then!  I've also got "Graceland," the Beatles, and "Born in the USA," and I keep thinking of more music I want.

The next leg of my great sabbatical adventure is Europe -- 5 weeks in Belgium, France, Spain, and Italy.  Parishioners have given me a week's time share in southern Italy and a week in southern Spain.  I'll be chasing black madonnas all over the continent!  I'm particularly excited about seeing Paris, about which I've had dreams -- literal, night-dreams, though I've never been there, and about all the madonnas I'll be near in southern France and northern Spain.  It's truly going to be a once-in-a-lifetime trip -- unless my retirement dreams of winters in Sicily and summers in the US really work out.

So I'll be writing and adventuring and posting more here.  Stay tuned!

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!

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!

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??

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!

O February! O Spring!

What a fabulous couple of days we've had, here on our mountain!  Yesterday, my day off, was about 60 degrees F and sunny.  I had a run with the dogs, went to yoga, and shopped at some of my favorite thrift shops.  I got some pretty candle holders (I've been burning candles and enjoying them a lot in the last few weeks), and then found Martha Stewart candles 50% off at Kmart, so I stocked up on red (which I'm using through Valentine's day or so) and green (which I'll use through St. Patrick's Day and on into springtime).  I also had breakfast and a latte at The Artist's Corner, my favorite little cafe and coffee shop.  I ran into a couple of parishioner-buddies and had the greatest talk about life after death with the woman, who lost both her parents in the last year or so.  I love talking about that stuff -- it's really all speculation, but what fun!

Today, another day off (a mentor of mine says, "Humans need two consecutive days off, Ann -- that's why God made weekends!" -- even though priests only generally get one day off), was about 65 degrees F and also sunny.  Another run with the dogs, long hours for morning pages and journaling, some errands, and an hour's worth of yard work: picking up sticks, uprooting a couple of huge clumps of grass that I've allowed to invade the bed that encircles my front porch, and laying some mulch to delineate that bed (which I'm making narrower, rather than the 4-5 feet that it originally was -- so much work to weed and maintain!).  I also picked up an entire wheelbarrow full of twigs that have fallen from the trees in my yard. 

I feel so good when I work outside!  I keep resolving to work a bit every day, even in the winter (I've got plenty of pruning and mulching that could still be done, even when it's frosty) -- but I never quite make it.  Still, I'll keep trying.  Even 15 minutes or a half-hour in the yard leaves me feeling productive and energized.  I've sure got hours and days and weeks of work that I want to do.  There are perennial beds to weed and mulch and re-shape; there is mulching to do on the paths of the veggie garden; there is planning to do for both perennials and veggies.  I've got a lot of pruning to do on trees that have never been pruned, and shrubs that are completely and horribly overgrown.

Here are a few things I found when I was working today:

Aren't these just the most cunning little baby iris?  Just when I'm amazed at the length and coldness of the winter, I clear away a few leaves, and this is what I find!  Of course, you can see the poor little tops have been frostbitten since they started growing -- but aren't they brave little soldiers?  I wish I were better about growing iris.  I can't seem to get them to bloom.  The ones I sorely neglect bloom under the edge of other shrubs, etc.  But when I try to dig, divide, re-plant so they'll be the healthiest, I end up with nothing -- or lovely foliage and absolutely not a sign of a bloom.  I seem to have some kind of "reverse green thumb:"  the things that people say, "It'll grow anywhere, you can't kill it!" -- those are the things that I kill with great regularity.  I've been trying to get an old fashioned hydrangea -- the "snowball bush" that grows huge and hearty around here -- to grow -- I've been given two healthy, vigorous starts by my neighbor -- and they die off.  Sigh.  On the other hand, many of the weird, exotic specimens I have in my yard (thanks to my predecessor) seem to flourish.  Go figure.  Here's a little something else:

These are little bitty baby flowers -- I think maybe last spring (after 5+ years here) I figured out what they really are -- but I've completely forgotten that.  So I just call them buttercups.  I think they're so sweet, and they grow over in my west yard, back behind the house near the fence line, where I seldom see them.  I only noticed them today because I brought my wheelbarrow this way to haul mulch.  I also found a piece of trim that fell off the house up near the roofline.  I'm going to have to find someone to replace it for me.  The guy who usually does this kind of repair -- the one who made my lovely little blue garden gate -- just had double heart bypass surgery, and he's not really up to hauling and climbing ladders and pounding nails yet.  Here's something else that's pretty sweet:

I have little snowdrops blooming and budding in several places in my yard, including beneath the ornamental cherry tree (which is badly in need of pruning) and in the bed where I have hostas and much-overgrown and invasive bamboo.  But these little sweeties were hidden away beneath some privet that has run wild and rampant (couldn't cut it without a chain saw), and as you can see, amid some sort of vine that I think is oriental bittersweet run amok.  All these little emerging flowers are like gifts, or like God's grace for me -- a sign of hope and the inevitable rolling round of seasons of growth and light.

Here's the final one for today, I promise:   These little baby daffodils brought a smile to my face, for sure.  I truly have been enjoying the winter weather.  We've had more snow and cold weather than we have in all the six years I've been here.  And even our snow on Wednesday was sweet, because I did know that by Friday it would be at least in the 50s, and the snow would be gone again.  But I must admit that these little signs that spring is truly around the corner are most welcome!  One thing I love about living on this Tennessee plateau is that I am truly delighted to see every single season come and go.  They are each long enough that I can enjoy them to the fullest, and then enjoy the advent of the one that follows.

Yesterday I had a truly "springtime experience":  when I brought the dogs out for their evening walk about 5 pm, I slipped in the mud and went straight down on hands and knees beneath the bird feeder!  Mud all over feet and knees, of course.  I was so mad at first, then I realized how much worse it could have been, had I fallen backward and hit my head or spine on cement.  Talk about "mud season!"  But the lack of damage (the mud was quickly undone in the washing machine) was truly foremost among my gratitudes last night.

I suppose there's one more sign of spring in my life: I've begun reading "Simple Abundance" again, and am enjoying the short daily readings.  I've also undertaken several new books.  One reading group is doing "Start Where You Are" by Pema Chodron; another is beginning "Our Endangered Values" by Jimmy Carter.  I'm reading a large tome on "Celtic Spirituality" (the Classics of Western Spirituality series), as well as "Vision Boards" and Julia Cameron's "The Writing Diet."  In March, I'll be doing a Lenten quiet day on "Women in the Bible," and in April I will be a presenter in the spring for a religious conference whose theme is interfaith approaches to prayer and meditation.  The book they've selected to study is "Five Voices Five Faiths: An Interfaith Primer."  So I'm reading that one, too.  New projects and study and books feels like a new start, and that feels like spring!  Tomorrow is also forecast to be sunny and in the 60s.  If I have the energy after church, I may try to burn my brush pile.  Happy earliest spring to all!

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!

Well!

I had my first insulting comment (which I have deleted) today.  The commenter, Elaine Bosworth ([email protected]) begged to differ with my feeling of being "kind of pretty."  Of course, I know that was a risky revelation to make on a blog, feeling actually good about myself, and I opened myself up to the kind of insult I might have received in high school, in rural Indiana, where people were ignorant.  I do feel bad for her, and hope you will include her in your prayers -- she obviously needs them.  People who make insulting statements are usually badly wounded and in need of help.  Their view of the world, other people, and even themselves is usually badly distorted, and I thank God I don't live in their skin.

But it did interrupt (and delete) a long post I started about my practices of running, morning pages, and yoga that seem to keep my life on an even keel, and pretty much free of low-grade depression, which was a familiar friend in the past.  Sorry I can't reproduce all that.

And I do want you to see some of the seductions of my badly neglected perennials.  As you know, I tend to be a bit obsessed with my veggies, much to the detriment of the many flower beds my predecessor planted.  So without the long commentary on things that have brightened my own world, I offer you these pictures from my gardens:

I'm sorry I lost my longer post on the benefits of running (short answer -- endorphins and being in the moment), morning pages (short answer -- problem solving and creative ideas) and yoga (short answer -- pure bliss from time to time, as well as a flexible body).  I will share the cover of my journal, below.  Also, I've surrendered to Round-Up, though I've resisted poisons in general in my yard.  But dandelions in the cracks in my front porch, as well as poison ivy in my evening walking path, have led to my capitulation.  I bid you good night, now, as the rain falls gently outside, watering my veggies (beans, peas, lettuce, and beets are up), and softening the ground for further weed removal.

My best friend, Cheryl gave me this journal for Christmas.  Her note, which I keep taped inside, says, "...I could not NOT get you this one for you!  It isn't that you need to be told these [things], but these are the things you DO -- and some of the reasons I admire you and you're such an inspiration to me!"  This is from a woman who has knows me for 27 years now.  And even though it appears to be something used at West Point, I'll take this sentiment any day over the comment I just received!

From your questionably, debatably, "kind of pretty" blogger....