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!

Snow Day!

Oooh, it's snowing on the Plateau!  Snowing and snowing!  It has been snowing for just about 24 hours straight, without stopping.  Today it's very light snow, like powdered sugar -- but non-stop, nevertheless.  It's exciting!  Everything is closed, almost, and everything that can be cancelled in this part of the world, has been.

Brrr.  The wind is blowing, too, and the temperature is 13F.  Not quite a blustery day, but close.  You can see I've been out with the snow shovel; I've also been over to my office (all of about 200 feet away).  Earlier this morning I even took the car out for a quick trip to the grocery store; but mostly I'm staying inside and cozy today, doing some work from home, taking it very easy and enjoying the day off that everyone else is getting.

I'm thinking about a conference that I attended in October in Mississippi, one that I never took the opportunity to tell you about.  It's called CREDO, and is sponsored by the national Episcopal Church for active clergy (and also for full time lay professionals in the church).  This was my second CREDO conference, the last being 8 years ago.  CREDO stands for "Clergy Reflection, Education, and Discernment Opportunity."  It's a wonderful way that the church has developed to take care of its clergy.  We were at the Gray Episcopal Camp and Conference Center near Jackson, Mississippi, and it was for priests who all attended a previous CREDO, and who are roughly the same age and years of experience.  It lasted 7 days.  It was a great opportunity to reflect on where I've come, where I am now, and where I still want to go in my career and in my life.  They fed us well, gave us lots of information and food for thought, and assigned us to small groups where we could discuss our ongoing reflection and goal-setting.  Before we went, we were to have a physical exam and complete a health profile, fill out some (absolutely confidential) financial and vocational worksheets, and ask several people from our work life to fill out surveys about us.  This gave us some really valuable baseline information to contribute to the week's work, as well.

Here are some shots of the place we stayed:

This is what I saw out my bedroom window every morning -- mist rising over the lake.  Ethereally beautiful.

This is the labyrinth (with my shadow cast across it) where we could walk and meditate as we pondered our lives.

And this is the chapel where we worshipped daily.  The weather was perfect, perhaps just a bit too warm a couple of days, but we wore shorts and t-shirts most of the time.  The camp, located across the road from our section, had a swimming pool for our use, as well.

One evening, we went into Jackson for a nice dinner out.  The street where we ate still had the facades on the buildings that were used when "The Help" was filmed.  If you haven't read that book, you must.  I loved it.  Here are a couple of shots of the fun storefronts from the early 1960s:

You can't see what's playing at the Capri, but it's "Cleopatra," with Elizabeth Taylor.

It looks a lot like the streets of the town where I grew up.  Same era, too.

On the way home I went to see Graceland.  But I'll have to share those pictures and related reflections another time.

At the end of the conference, most of us had detailed goals and plans completed.  One of my biggest realizations from the conference is how isolated I've become here in my little corner of the world.  Little by little, this corner has, in fact, become littler.  I've become more and more alone, and it was all so gradual that I didn't even notice it.  I found excuses not to go out and be with people, as the little corner became very comfortable.  But God said, "It is not good for Adam (humankind -- not a man's name) to be alone."  And it's true.  So I've been making real efforts to incorporate other people into my life and activities.  Some of that is blogging here.  Some is about being in better touch with friends and family who are distant, and also with friends close at hand -- as well as seeking out new friends.  It has involved a little effort, a little stepping outside my comfort zone again.  We introverts can play alone very happily in our little corners, but we need others, just like the extroverts do.

Something I've noticed, since I recognized my own isolation, is that now I feel lonelier.  I think I kept those feelings locked up for a long, long time.  But sometimes I miss the people I love so much that I cry.  Eventually I think I'll be looking for employment that will bring me closer to those who have known me my whole life, or close to it.  It's funny how they all are more and more important, the older I get.  When I was a kid, or even up to middle age, I could flit off on my own adventures that took me far away:  Moving from Indiana to Buffalo, then off to Connecticut to seminary, then down here to the Plateau and this lovely little church.  But as I get older, and now especially that I've unlocked my lonely heart, being close to the old, good friends, and family who has known me my whole life, seems more and more important.

I'm eager to see how this new awareness unfolds in my life; it feels as though I've set off on another leg of my journey.

Everyone stay warm and dry, you hear now?

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!

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??

Welcome to Holy Week!

Technically speaking, Holy Week starts on Palm Sunday.  We had a great Palm Sunday service, with warm temperatures, sunshine, and the usual blessing of the palms outside, at the gate to our Memorial Garden.  Once the palms are blessed and distributed, we process around the outside of the church to the big front doors (that are only open two days a year).  We chant Psalm 118 as we walk, and then go forward with the normal service, except a very long gospel reading -- the Passion reading (Palm Sunday is also called "Passion Sunday" because of this).  We have readers for the parts or characters in the reading.  I don't preach much of a sermon on Palm Sunday; there hardly seems anything one can add to that story.  I did encourage folks to reflect on the variety of meanings of the word "Passion," however:  passion as "passivity" (same Latin root word), as "suffering" (like com-passion, suffering-with), and as "ardent love" -- it was Christ's love for God that led him to obedience to what he perceived as God's will, regardless of the consequences.  At any rate, one fairly new parishioner said that ours was the most beautiful Palm Sunday service she had ever attended.  Now that felt good!

Here you see my little Holy Week wreath, with dark red ribbon (the liturgical color for Holy Week), hanging on my front door.  I also like it because the grapevine resembles a crown of thorns.

Holy week is seriously my favorite week of the year.  It's a really poignant juxtaposition of the beauty of springtime and the bleakness of the suffering and death of Jesus.  It's the one season of the Church year where I never fail to enter, at some level, into that liminal space that has one foot in the outer, material world, and one foot in the spiritual world, that place I call the kingdom of heaven, where everything is very real and all is present now.  I love it.  I especially love the culmination of Holy Week, the Great Vigil of Easter, which is held after sunset on Holy Saturday, or early, early, before sunrise on Easter Day.  It's a dark and mysterious service that begins in darkness (dusk, anyway) and then suddenly, there's the light of the new fire, the new Paschal candle, and the chanting procession into the church, where I chant, "The light of Christ," and the congregation, processing after me, responds, "Thanks be to God!"  Then, in the darkened church, I chant the Exsultet, the whole thing, which is a lovely, mystical sound.  We have a series of readings that describe salvation history, and then the lights come up on the newly beflowered church, and the first glorious "Alleluia!" of the Easter season is said.  We pass from darkness to light in that service, from slavery to freedom, from death to resurrection.    We have champagne in the communion chalice, and a celebratory champagne reception after the service.  Easter morning, while lovely, is truly an anticlimax to this glorious and dramatic service.  I guess there's a bit of "ham" in every priest, but the mystery of that night passage from death to life is palpable.

As for the weather:  Oh, my.  This is what I woke up to this morning: 

You can see that it's hardly more than a dusting, but still -- in April?  And get this -- tomorrow is forecast to be sunny and 58 degrees!  Go figure on the weather around here.  This is what spring is like on the Cumberland Plateau.  Two years ago this kind of weather killed a lot of plants, and we had hardly any apple harvest that fall.  But it was more days of cold, and a harder freeze -- at least I hope that's the case.  My apple trees haven't quite blossomed yet, but they're just about to.

And I want to get out in my garden!  My grapes need tying up and pruning, and the beds need weeding and mulching, and the paths need weeding and mulching, and I have peas, spinach, and lettuce to plant.  Sigh.  I'm longing to get out there.  Plus I'm so close to having the labyrinth finished, and I'd love to have it done by Easter Day.  Maybe two more loads of rocks is all it will take.

So I hope you all have a gloriously rich and meaningful Holy Week.  Our services start tonight (Evening Prayer and Stations of the Cross), and then go tomorrow (Tenebrae), Thursday, Friday, Saturday, and Sunday.  Holy Week is always a marathon, but it's a wonderful one.  I may not see you till I'm on the other side of it.

And don't forget that we celebrate Easter for fifty days!  Talk about a good, long holiday season!

Good Morning!

Isn't it a beautiful sunrise?  Oh, yes.  And I know it's not morning -- not now.  And, in fact, this sunrise is not from today, but from yesterday.  Palm Sunday.  It was a beautiful, beautiful day, and I had absolutely no energy to work outside.  I had a morning service, and then another "house church" service at 2 pm.  After that, I was exhausted.

No, today looks just a little bit different:

You can't really see the snow on my big boxwood tree, but right in front of it, you can see a dusting of white.  Okay, I know we're not looking like Nebraska here, but still -- April really is the cruelest month.  Today I could have done a little gardening, perhaps finished my labyrinth -- but nooooo -- it snowed all day long.  All day.  Of course, the ground was too warm to really accumulate much, but I sure am praying for the flowers.  My yard is gorgeous; I must take more photographs.  But I did just now go out and rescue a solitary tulip, and I hope she's not frozen.  You can see a little more here:

It's my back porch with the magnolia and snowball viburnum both beginning to bloom.  I hope it warms up quickly enough to save these beauties.  I lost a lot of the magnolia 2 years ago in an April freeze, and hardly had any blooms at all last year, as she recovered from her trauma.  I know many people are suffering from the weather, and I'm not.  But if you have a prayer or two to spare, send some white light or whatever you do for my flowers, OK?

The labyrinth is nearly finished.  I'm on the very last round.  I think it may take two more loads of stone to finish, but that's about 2 hours' work.  I can't wait!  Did I mention that I'm hauling all the stone myself?  I go to the spot where I found it, load up 12 canvas bags (everything from huge, beach-bag size, to grocery-size, to book-bag size), and carry them home in the trunk of my car.  Then I unload and place them, and do it all over again.  Gradually I will mulch the paths, but that can happen over time.  I have walked it for the first time, and it was delicious.  I also have a mega-case of chiggers, just to prove that I was working!

But now I have a tenderloin steak under the broiler, a potato in the microwave, and a gin and tonic with my name on it.  It's Holy Week.  Today was blessedly peaceful, but the marathon of services begins tomorrow.  I love Holy Week.  It's probably my very favorite time of the year.  There are lots of services, lots of work to do over the next six days.  But it's a great container for most of the mysteries of Christianity.  I hope to be sharing some reflections with you over this week, so that maybe you can understand what it means to me.

Snow!

Who'd 'a thunk it?  Six hours ago I was outside, working in gardening clothes and only a fleece vest for outerwear, and sweating.  When I filled up my car with gasoline, the wind was blowing, cold and fierce.  But I had no idea of what was in store.  I just went outside, 10:30 pm, and we have about an inch of wet snow, and it's still falling fiercely!  I love it.  The dogs loved it on their bedtime walk.  I'm about to go to bed.  I wonder who'll show up for church in the morning?  I wonder when I can get back to my garden?  My weather page (weather underground -- much more accurate here than the weather channel page) says it will be 54 and 56 on Wed. and Thurs., though it might rain.  If no rain, those seem to be my next garden days!