Little Colonies of Heaven

2012-01-18T13:16:00.001-05:00

PEACE AND QUIET

The New Year in Southern Virginia
This photo and those following, by Jeweli Hockensmith

It seems that living in peace and quiet has become an almost unaffordable luxury to many of us. A columnist in our newspaper today wrote about his visit to a float tank. Never heard of that? Nor had I. Two gentlemen have purchased these and opened a business in a local shopping center. It seems that for $80 an hour you can shower, turn off the lights, get into a swimsuit (or go without), and get into one of these coffin-like tanks and float in heavily salted water, achieving an almost weightless state of being. The columnist agreed that it was indeed a very peaceful, quiet and soothing experience, but lamented at the end of the column the fact that to achieve this incredible "lightness of being", he had to steal time from his busy schedule, drive through congested traffic to a busy strip mall and pay 80 dollars just to enjoy an hour of peace and quiet. What is wrong with our lives, was the implied question.

Such is the condition of modern life for most, I suppose. Is it any wonder that so many poor souls end up trying to achieve an artificial state of well-being by using substances? Is there a way, realistically, to have our lives centered in peace and quiet in this hyper-drive world? Jesus said that in this world you will have tribulation, but that He has come that you might have peace. Peace of heart and mind, soul and spirit. Even in the midst of tribulation. Even the soft-core kind, like deadlines and heavy traffic.

This peaceful, quiet life starts in the interior of your being, when you invite Christ in, and let Him lead you in all things. Sounds so easy, but I know lots of folk cannot imagine what I mean. Well, when I surrendered my life to Christ at the age of 19, and following my wild teenage years, I felt an inner joy begin to permeate my being, and all the hills and valleys of life seemed to even out. Everything for me took on a simplicity, like finally being able to focus the lenses on binoculars and see everything which once was hard to discern with sudden clarity and color. My choices seemed like "no-brainers", and in following my beloved, I naturally chose what was good and peaceful for my life, not even being aware of having to make a conscious choice most of the time. For example, I no longer craved parties and drinking; I didn't have to make a deliberate decision to give up these things, I simply lost interest in them and ceased to think about them. I obeyed because I wanted to.

When you are so busy in your relationship with Him that you naturally soak up His word and enjoy being with like-minded people, you tend to see what kinds of things lead to peace in your external life as well. For instance, I purposed in my mind that when I would be married and have children I would give up the extra money a job would bring. When that happened, my life was automatically so simple. I remember holding my first baby, listening to the afternoon traffic report of the kitchen radio, and thanking God with much joy that I was home and not sitting out on the hot, congested highway, with its exhaust fumes and fuming, exhausted motorists trying to get home!

My supper was on the stove, and my baby was in my arms, and for me, God was in "His heaven" and all was indeed right with the world. We were living in Navy housing, with all white walls and linoleum on the floors, but for me it was the Taj Mahal!

This is what I wish for all mothers and their children. The men are emotionally equipped to get into the fray each day as long as they can come home to a safe haven where they can retreat and recoup, and this is what I wish for them. A wise woman understands this and gives her man some space to let him do just that. I know that days at home can be long and arduous, but if a wife will let her husband come home and be pampered a bit, he will love and appreciate her and put her above all else.

Everybody needs peace and quiet. My mother always admonished me to make life simple for myself, to attend to my own business, and not go out of my way to make it hard. Come up with a system for doing things, was her advice to me, don't take on more than you can handle, and make sure you get a little rest and recreation for yourself.

Well, without that second income, most likely you will not have a lot of money to spend on a large or fancy house, and so you can handle the upkeep better. Less space to fill, heat, cool and clean. There is peace in that. Doing most of your own work and repairs, taking care of your children if you are blessed with them, offering hospitality and being charitable as the Lord leads, are all things that make for a need to order your life well, and also make for an early bedtime! That results in peace and quiet at the end of the day.

Just like the old kosher laws had a practical and health-promoting aspect to them, living a life like I have outlined will be in accordance with how our bodies function best. I have read recently that women who go to bed by 10 p.m. each night substantially cut their breast-cancer risk because the protective/repairing hormones and inner workings of our bodies are in full gear during the hours between ten and midnight. Haven't you ever noticed how much better you feel if you sleep from 10 p.m. to 6 a.m., than if your eight hours of sleep go from 2 a.m. to 10 a.m.? There really is something to this, I believe.

I am truly sorry for those who unnecessarily put stress and misery into their lives by overwork and too much busy-ness. I say unnecessarily because folks will always list all the reasons it is so necessary to live (can you call it live) like this, but most of their "have-to's" are simply their own preferences. Things like having to have a new car(s), huge TVs and sound systems, dinners and drinking out on the town, designer clothes, I-phones, and the like. Or they have to keep themselves stirred up by all the news and politics or the lives of the celebrities. You are not a bad person for wanting all of this, but if you have to have these, then you are choosing to let go of some freedom. And peace and quietness therewith.

It helps, at the beginning of the year like this, to sit and kind of take stock of things. What things in our lives are depriving us from the life-giving peace and quietness we crave? Do we find we do not have time to step out of doors for some fresh air and have we forgotten to simply gaze at the night sky? I found myself up at 5 a.m. New Year's morning, cleaning up the kitchen and putting things to rights as well as tending to my infant granddaughter who lives with us, and at one point I stepped outside to shake out a tablecloth. There, just outside my backdoor, in the still and silence was the crystalled universe itself! Above the darkened windows and frosted rooftops the tall trees stretched their bare and graceful arms to the heavens crammed with countless, twinkling stars!

It may seem like such a trivial thing to you, but to me it was one of those moments when you know that God exists, and even if you were the only living being in His universe He would have made it all just for you, causing you to be filled with such awe and joy that you just have to stand there and receive!

I wish these kind of moments on the whole world, and may you possess the peace that passes understanding now and always.

2011-07-01T20:56:00.001-04:00

SAFE PASTURE

Do you sometimes feel like a shepherdess, as though a flock of vulnerable creatures depended upon you for safety, nourishment, and their very lives? I think in many ways we are shepherdesses whom God has entrusted with the safekeeping of many of His sheep. Be they our children, grandchildren, or those who would learn from us, we have a weighty responsibility to be a guiding hand through the sunny days and a bright beacon through the dark nights of life.

Just knowing myself too well, with my shortcomings and feebleness, I feel sometimes that I am not up to the task. And surely I am not. And neither are you. That is precisely why faith comes to us in those moments when we realize with stark certainty that we are not enough. We look up when all else fails and our strength and courage are spent, for we have looked in all the other places and found them dry and barren. So we cry out, and He comes and does for us, and through us, what we cannot.

Simply. Elegantly. Mostly in ways we never expected. How many of us have risen throughout the night to care for a fussy baby or sick child, knowing bitterly how exhausted we were at the end of the previous day, only to find the endless night and unrelenting needs of others asking the impossible of us? Where does one find the strength, the patience, the sheer ability to stay awake and keep serving, when we know that another such day fast approaches?

Only from God, I contend. His Holy Spirit power holds up the arms that hold the suffering child. His grace puts yet another lullaby or praise song on our lips, and we find the new day dawning with a tiny, yet sufficient boost of supernatural energy given to us to begin again.

Let us remember our patterns in Scripture. The love chapter in First Corinthians 13, and Proverbs 31, to name a few. Empowered by His unconditional love for us, may we extend that love to others, especially our little sheep. We must for their sake, and for His, walk in forgiveness, and in wisdom, for there are great things in store for us. With His help we are examples of what it means to be a Christian, a follower of Christ. There are many, close to us or on the periphery of our lives, who are watching, and hoping for a bit more light to keep them safely on the good path. Will we hold our little candles aloft for them and help them find their way?

2011-06-10T19:58:00.000-04:00

THE LOVELY SMELL OF SUMMER

These are last year's petunias but a couple have volunteered themselves again.

Tonight my yellow roses are blooming along with the magenta ones and of course, my heirloom Souvenir de la Malmaison, reputed to have grown in the garden of Napoleon's wife, the Empress Josephine. These fragrances are mixed with the honeysuckle and jasmine which are climbing over the fence. All of these delicious perfumes waft together atop the earthy foundation of grass, bush and tree. Summer down South is a heady, languid time.

I have not been at my writing in some time, owing to work outside the home, painting and redo-ing in my home and the birth of our first granddaughter, a little rosebud angel named Abigail. She was born on June 1st, the official beginning of meteorological summer.

I am far too tired this evening to get fancy with posting pictures, but it is my fervent hope that I can get back to all of that soon. I hope all my fellow defenders of hearth and home are still out there, fighting the good fight. I love all the brave ladies who are my kindred spirits on the Internet, unafraid to live the life that God has called them to. We can save our way of life, one person, one family at a time. Don't allow anyone to tell you differently.

I hope and pray that everyone will have a blessed weekend and great time of worship. Hope to write again soon.

2011-03-03T21:25:00.000-05:00

A LOVELY PORTRAIT

Ref: 47
Title: Liverpool diocese nurse.
Date: Around 1910
Location: Liverpool
Creator: Unknown
Description:
Many of the nurses and doctors that visited the Homes were not paid and worked in their free time for this good cause.
Rights: © The Children's Society

I was reading, over at The Thinking Housewife blog about nineteenth century waifs. After clicking one of the pictures, I was brought to a site which houses several photos of institutionalized children of that period and workers who cared for them.

I was so moved by this picture of this kindly looking nurse. As the caption states, many of the nurses and doctors who tended to the children in institutional care were not paid, but rather did it as an act of charity.
It is also true that nursing was considered more than a profession, but a true vocation, as one is called to the consecrated life. Many nurses and school teachers (also a vocation), were single women, as were quite a few missionary ladies, who devoted themselves to their life's work in the service of others.

The website hosting this photo is fascinating and goes into much detail about the lives of the children cared for by the Waifs and Strays of England during the late Victorian and Edwardian times. Here is the site:
http://www.hiddenlives.org.uk/

2011-03-01T11:28:00.000-05:00

THE AUTHOR'S RELAXING SUNDAY, to be soon remembered as the "good old days"


My wonderful husband and I, taking a pic of ourselves with the new camera. He was trying to get the shot just right and therefore did not think to strike a charming pose, haha.

Yesterday was a pleasant Sunday for us. After church we had a nice lunch and since the other household members were out and about, we relaxed and amused ourselves with his new camera and got to chat for awhile. After that, I had a little favor to do for my neighbor and by then it was evening.

The dog was relaxing on the floor.

This white mountain of fur is one of the cats, grooming herself in the sun.

Princess, our 17 year old kitty, decided to occupy the love-seat.

For once I sat and watched the Academy Awards, as I was interested in how well "The King's Speech" would fare. Indeed, it garnered several awards, including the big ones; Best Director, Best Actor, Best Picture. I had quit watching much of these awards shows years ago, since they had become so decadent and politically radical.

You can imagine how surprised I was to see that this one was pretty tame. The lovely Anne Hathaway hosted with another young actor, James Franco, and absolutely nothing dirty or cruel was said, with the exception of the one of the winners (a woman, of course) dropping the "F-bomb" onstage. The gowns were by and large lovely, feminine and tasteful, and the movies all looked to be pretty mild, compared to what we have been subjected to in the past. So a day of respite was well appreciated, but now onto some practical matters.

If you have been reading this blog before, you know that I am aware of and concerned about the unfolding of events abroad and here in this country. I was therefore dismayed to see the continuing harassment of the Fox News reporters covering the seemingly intractable situation in Wisconsin. The protesters have gone from chanting that Fox News "lies" in the background to now getting in the reporter's face, shouting in his ear, blocking him or the camera with their signs, and yesterday, they actually hit the man. Someone has pointed out that this reporter, Mike Tobin, has covered events in the war zones of the Middle East, including the Palestinian/Israeli conflict, all without being assaulted. In this country, however, those occupying the Wisconsin statehouse have become violent toward this man, attempting to keep him from reporting by interfering with his first amendments rights, and now physically assaulting him.

Please be aware of the times we live in. Even more shocking was when an angry mob surrounded the car of the crowned prince of the British throne and attempted to do bodily harm to him and his wife. This kind of thing is unheard of in that country, as far as I know. And what happened in Wisconsin is also breaking new ground in our country.

But it should not be surprising, given the progression of Western society from law and decency to lawlessness and depravity. We have to have known it would come to this, and should have taken steps to guard against it when there was still a bulwark of moral authority in government, church and community.

I am climbing up the cyber tower and ringing an alarm bell this morning. Please be forewarned that the spirit of protest in this country is turning into a spirit of insurrection and rebellion. This will lead to something which looks less like a tea party and more like the French Revolution. If you are unfamiliar with this dark period in history, please go and do a bit of reading on the subject. What might have started out with legitimate grievances turned into a bloodbath which even turned on itself. Someone has said that those who start the revolution are rarely still there when it ends. Such was the case in that bloody, hateful time and that is the normal progression in insurrections and rebellions. It becomes so ruthless that eventually the corruption, mistrust and lust for power becomes so overwhelming that the revolutionaries turn on one another.

I do not pretend to know why, all of a sudden, the fire of revolution is flaring up in all these countries at once. Some have suggested that it has to do, overseas at least, with food prices steeply rising. Others point to the influx into these countries of the new communications technologies. They are showing folks that people elsewhere have it a lot better. So it is probably fair to implicate the Internet and Google in fomenting revolutionary ideas among the young masses. Again, we take for granted the freedoms we have here that have been denied to those in totalitarian regimes. Of course, they have legitimate grievances which deserve redress. Some of the trouble, though, lies with people refusing to take any cut in their standard of living, even though their countries are broke (think Greece and the UK) and so they take their anger to the streets. This is what is happening in Wisconsin and getting ready to happen in several other states. In any event, they will likely end up consumed by the fire they have started. There are always wolves waiting in the shadows to infiltrate and subvert the ranks of the original protesters, in order to wrest control and proceed with their own agenda. Typically the new regime will make the old one look like a Sunday School picnic. Think Russia, Cuba and China.

Realize that this is beginning here. Those puffy, middle-aged schoolteachers are being manipulated right now. There are other forces at work here, in collusion. Am I taking this too far? If lawlessness is allowed to increase, and if there are wolves in and out of government who wish to destroy our current society in order to turn it into something else, then expect to see more protests, more disruption of the civil order, and increasing violence against opposing viewpoints and those who hold them. If you see this happening, and I believe that with the harassment and assault on Fox News that you have just witnessed this thing beginning to move, then please heed the warnings and be proactive.

I am writing to those who are ripe for victim-hood. The people who go to work, and mind their own business, enjoy a pretty decent standard of living. These are the sheep who are ready for the shearing. First off, I think Fox should file assault charges against that person or people involved in yesterday's incident.

I also believe it is time to flood our local, state and federal government with calls for action to be taken, through existing law, against mob rule. I think people should demand that legislators show up and do their jobs, and that crowds of people not be allowed to just take over government buildings or any other public property.

It is crucial that we vote in every election and make it our business to thoroughly investigate the candidates and understand the issues. We need God's help and guidance and we should be taking all this to Him every day.

Of course it is vital that we not become a mob ourselves. We must not retaliate in the same vulgar, lawless
manner as the revolutionaries. But we must be astute. Please refrain from getting into useless arguments with people. State what you believe, in as civil and loving way as possible, and don't let it keep going back and forth. But rest assured, we must stand up, within the confines of the rule of law, to these anarchistic forces and fight them with words and the law, in order to avoid having to fight them with anything stronger.

The best case scenario is that I am blowing things way out of proportion. Wonderful. But that will not keep the price of fuel and food from rising. (And that puts pressure on people). It is doing that and will continue until we enact changes in how we get energy and what we import and manufacture ourselves. We have enough oil here to keep us going for 200 years, but for some reason the powers that be are discouraging what little we drill for here, as it is. I will leave you to speculate on the reasons for that.

I am writing today to the keepers at home. I urge you to reign in your own spending, and concentrate on conserving your resources, monetary and physical. This is probably not the time to be planning a big vacation, making major non-essential renovations or making any non-essential purchases. Take what you can afford to, and stock up on food, household essentials and durable clothing. I covered this in earlier posts, but I am imploring folks to really do it now. Tools and the means to maintain and repair things at home are also of utmost importance. Buy some extra gas cans and fill them up. If you use propane or kerosene for anything, get some more. Things are not going to get cheaper, so if you can stock up on things now, do it. Just for fun, we took pictures of our pantry and freezers:

When I see a good sale (e.g. $1.97 butter) I stock up.

A little bit messy, sorry.

There is yet a little more to the idea of conserving physical resources than the ones I have mentioned above. When you go shopping, if you are home during the day, make it your business to go in the morning if you can, after everyone is at work. You will find the stores almost empty and you can go about your shopping in a relaxed and thoughtful manner. I find that the Lord is very helpful to point out things to us when we shop, if we remember to keep a prayerful stance as we go through the aisles.

Try to be home when most folks are getting out of work and rushing about, tired and harried. This gets you out of their way and home maintaining a peaceful atmosphere for your own family. Leave the late afternoon, evenings and weekends to the workers and the teenagers if you can, for both your sakes.

Physically conserving also refers to your health and your own energy. Plan ahead to take care of activities when you know you are usually at your best. For most people, morning is when they have the best mental capacity for office work and solving problems, as well as physical strength. If that is you, then plan to do the "heavy lifting" of your day early on. Many people feel that is not the best time, and for some that may be true.

I have found, however, that what I thought of as "energy" later in the day, was simply an over-stimulated nervous system, fueled by too much caffeine, too late in the day, and a build-up of anxiety that followed. I then found myself wide awake into the wee hours of the morning with my heart pounding it's way out of my chest, it seemed. What do you think the next morning was always like for me? I would definitely feel that I was not a "morning person", that's for sure. I was invariably light-headed throughout the day. Well, after I took the doctor's suggestion to limit my coffee to the morning (and not drink so much of it then!), and to keep hydrated and go to bed on time, the palpitations and dizziness subsided. Now morning is a good time!

I also believe in taking breaks throughout the day or even a short nap. We have to get to the point where we realize that not taking care of ourselves impacts the very people we are trying to bless. Plus, God loves us, He made us, and we are His temple. Got to take care of that temple!

I sub-titled this post, "soon to be remembered as the good old days." I really hope that is not true, and that our society's best days are ahead of us, as indeed they could and should be. We have in this country, everything it takes to be that shining city on a hill once again, but first we need a revival, personally and corporately. And also in our churches. The Lord says, in 1 Peter 4:17:

"For the time [is come] that judgment must begin at the house of God: and if [it] first [begin] at us, what shall the end [be] of them that obey not the gospel of God?"

Please ask the Lord to make you to be right with Him, and let us strengthen our arms with the work He has given us to do.

2011-02-23T02:03:00.001-05:00

"See then that ye walk circumspectly, not as fools, but as wise,

Redeeming the time, because the days are evil."

from the letter of St. Paul to the Ephesians

Surely the world has seen it's share of chaos and calamity, probably in much stronger doses, but right now there are firestorms of uprisings and violence erupting throughout the world, and to some extent, right here in the United States. Now it is true, in one sense or another, the days have always been evil, but God has has never failed to make a way in the wilderness for those who love and follow Him. He asks us to listen to Him, to be obedient and to be prudent. Now, perhaps more than ever in the last fifty or so years, we need to stick close to Him and to do what He tells us.

The world has just seen another horrible natural disaster, this time in New Zealand. Today, Somali pirates killed four Americans who had been traveling around the world, passing out bibles. A sweet lady at our church who used to do the scripture readings so beautifully, took sick a year ago with ALS, and the disease progressed so rapidly that yesterday she was given her last rites. The upheavals in the Middle East are putting millions of people in harm's way, and threaten to destabilize the whole world. Inevitably, the price of oil is rising sharply, and that means everything from gasoline to food to all other store goods will probably ascend in proportion. The only things looking to tank are housing prices, employment and the stock market.

As to earthquakes and sickness, all we can do is trust God, and pray, but these are no small things! We could move mountains this way! God has put mysteries and challenges into His creation and it is our job to figure them out for the service of His creation. We must continue to put our minds and efforts into building safer structures in safer places, and work towards finding cures for disease, and better management of symptoms. Much has been accomplished in the engineering and medical fields (just think of the suffering before anesthesia!) and much more is needed. I think we must realistically, however, look to the state of our own souls, and pray for the eternal souls of others every day, as indeed, we must all leave this world someday. Instead of feverishly trying to avoid that knowledge, we need to accept it, redeem the time we have and pray that we will run a good race, and finish strong! Accordingly, I appreciate the Catholic understanding of the need to pray for a happy and prepared death, for ourselves and others.

In the meantime, as God gives me another day and another chance to serve Him and others, I look at these world events through the prism of my vocation - that of wife, mother, soon to be grandmother, and all around home guardian. What should the prudent keeper at home do in such times? Right away, bible verses come to mind and the Word of God gives me guidance.

Proverbs 22:3 says, "A prudent [man] foreseeth the evil, and hideth himself: but the simple pass on, and are punished." This tells me to pay attention. Observe and understand the times we live in, and be proactive. Now this can be something as simple as removing yourself from endless arguments over doctrine or beliefs, or distancing yourself from people who are very negative or angry.

You might not think this would be applicable, but I like to make a habit of always having a back-up item in store for use when the first thing is gone. For example, even though I go grocery shopping once a week and I have a market just up the street, I will buy at least two gallons of milk at a time, or extra bread for the freezer, etc., because I never want to run out of a staple (think toilet paper!), at any inopportune time, like late in the evening when it's not such a good idea to be going to and from the car in a dark parking lot.

Truth is, however, I never want to run out of something like milk at all, and one time I learned the hard way.

One school morning a few years ago, my husband had already gone to work, and I woke up to no milk for breakfast. The five children ranged in age from about 2 to 12. What I should have done was just made toast and juice, and of course, any normal person would probably have done that. But no, I jumped in the car and ran to pick up milk. Well, I was so hurried and harried that I looked one way and then another, or so I thought, and proceeded to go out into the intersection, hitting the side of a car that I just plain never saw coming.

Thank goodness no one was hurt, but my insurance had to pay a significant amount to fix the other person's car. That whole mishap could have been avoided if I had taken the time to plan better, and failing that, just make do with what I had.

Another verse that helps to guide me is in 1st. Thessalonians, where Paul tells us: "And that ye study to be quiet, and to do your own business, and to work with your own hands, as we commanded you; That ye may walk honestly toward them that are without, and [that] ye may have lack of nothing."

Ah, wouldn't it be a better world if more of us studied to be quiet? This is one of the great joys I find in staying home, that I can enjoy the peace and tranquility of my own little sphere while I go about my duties and my times of rest and refreshment. There are traffic snarls and crowded stores, confrontations with coworkers and anxiety over bosses out there beyond my doorstep, but I am safe from all of them. And I am available to keep order and stability here for all of us, and to add some beauty and comfort, too. I take the word "quiet", as it is used here, to mean being literally silent or at least reserved in speech, and also to mean minding my own business, which indeed Paul adds in the above verse.

Regarding the first meaning, there is so much to be gained when you don't talk. You have time to listen, and time to think. As the writer in Proverbs warns, "Where words are many, sin is not absent." If you have ever blurted out something that you wish you could take back, then you know how precious being silent is. If you have been prone to this sort of thing, as have I, and finally with God's help, begin to heed the Holy Spirit's nudging you to hold back, you know the utter joy and sheer blessedness of making the decision not to blurt! It is a gift to yourself (to say nothing of the other party) that continues to pay dividends and gives you joy and relief each time you remember how you almost said it, but then refrained.

Regarding the command to mind our own business, well, I know that the government leaders felt they had good reasons to involve themselves in the affairs of other nations, working to promote one leader in one country, while working to undermine the leader in another, but I think that the error of this is proving itself very obviously now. Perhaps if we had stayed home, and worked on producing energy and goods in this country, letting others sort out their own existence, we would have been a lot better off, and so would they. Of course there is a time to step in, but I think we have way overdone it.

It is the same in our own lives. I truly believe that the world is better served by my organizing my pantry and freezers than for me to be out in the street, "community organizing" while shrieking incendiary remarks into a microphone. By keeping my food storage organized and inventoried, I can make the most of my budget, which helps our family take care of itself without having to burden anyone else. When you are not a burden to others, God is glorified in your behavior, and you are indirectly benefiting your fellow man. It's like Paul said, "That ye may walk honestly toward them that are without, and [that] ye may have lack of nothing." Now, "them that are without" refers to those outside in the world, outside of the community of faith. They see your good works, which are the fruits of your faith, and they glorify your Father who is in heaven, as it says elsewhere in Scripture. When we quietly, without trying to draw attention or glory to ourselves, go about our business, working to take care of our own needs, and allowing others to have their own "space", we are sowing the seeds for great peace, both without and within.

Here is one more very politically incorrect point I wish to make. Again Paul says it so well, in 1st. Corinthians 10:23: "All things are lawful for me, but all things are not expedient: all things are lawful for me, but all things edify not." That means that something might be correct or good, according to the letter of the law, but it might not be the most helpful, or best thing to do in certain situations. I am thinking here about women and girls, and the horrendous situations they insert themselves into, expecting no harm to come to them because they have a right to be anywhere at anytime without fear of physical harm. Yes, the should be safe from harm. What a word "should" is.

They are correct in maintaining that the responsibility for others to restrain themselves from doing them harm resides with those others, and not with the women themselves. It is also right that we should be able to leave our cars and doors unlocked all night or when we are away, and not have to worry about people going in and robbing and ransacking our property. But do we leave everything open and unguarded? Most likely not. Why is that? It's our property, and the law recognizes our right to own and hold private property, does it not?

Ah, but we do lock up, keep our valuables out of sight when possible, insure them and even install alarm systems to keep our homes and cars secure, because we are wise to acknowledge the reality of a fallen world and the thieves and vandals who inhabit it. We are not going to gamble on losing these things.

We might be outraged that it is necessary, but is it not wise, then for women and girls to keep themselves out of less than desirable environments, or maybe not be out alone at night, and take care not to invite others to dwell on their sexuality by dressing so provocatively? I mean, say you saved up and bought some gold coins or precious gems. Would you deliberately put them on display in the front window of your house, or keep them on the front porch, unguarded?

As women entered the workforce, crimes against them rose precipitously. I do not advocate burkhas and a prohibition of women being seen in public - I just long for us to use some common sense. And to be realistic about our physical limitations (most women cannot beat the snot out of men as the heroines do on TV), and for prudence. Especially now, when it seems that people are becoming positively unglued and lawlessness is in the streets.

My hope and prayer is that the mommies could stay home with their babies, that women and children would have strong, loving men to protect them and provide for them, and that as individuals and nations, we could be peacemakers instead of mobs of rude and violent people.

For those who share these beliefs, but are feeling distressed and frightened of events unfolding in the world, I would suggest taking some practical steps to position ourselves in the most advantageous circumstances, as we are able, and leave the rest to God. Along with the foregoing examples, there are countless other things we can do.

Start going through your house, keeping the most precious and/or useful things, and clearing out the rest. When you have order, you take a lot of stress out of your life. When you have order, you can actually keep your home clean and healthy, which improves quality of life for all who dwell there. Stock up on food, and other necessities. Shop for cotton clothing at thrift stores and start laying in some new cotton underwear and socks, as this commodity is rising fast. Learn how to cook, bake, mend, do small repairs, use things around the house to fix up other things - for example, years ago our dryer quit on us. My husband remembered seeing this funny little gasket thing on the ground in the grocery store parking lot, that he realized might work in our machine, so he rode his bike up there, and sure enough it was still there. He was able to use it and we had the use of that dryer for years to come.

Build relationships with your neighbors. Talk about how you could help each other out in the event of a natural disaster. Start helping each other out, now. If your neighbor is away at work when the garbage man comes, and the empty can is sitting out in the road, go get it and bring it back up by his house.

Go to the library and get some books out on hobbies you would like to pursue, or skills you would like to acquire. Little by little, acquire what tools you can in order to be able to build, repair or maintain your home and property. Tools and maintenance of your home are sensible, terrific things to invest in. I might not be able to buy a $1,600 gold coin, but I can shop around and spend 160 dollars on food and tools or upgrades to my home environment that will add immense benefit to our lives.

Little by little, build a library of your own with your how-to books, your spiritual books and books to read to your children and grandchildren. And do take time to read to a child, whenever you can. Have a quiet cup of coffee or tea with your husband. Have lunch with a friend. Go to the dollar store, and without overdoing it, buy some simple holiday and seasonal decorations to brighten your home with. Plant herbs in flower pots, and tomatoes, too, if you don't want to, or cannot have a larger garden in the ground. Savor these simple activities that make life rich and rewarding.

As the weather gets warmer, try hanging out a load of wash to dry in the fresh air and sunshine. Pick up an iron and start pressing some clothes now and then. When you have a minute, from time to time, take some window cleaner and make a mirror or a window sparkle and shine. You do not have to do everything, and certainly not all at one time. But the things I am suggesting help you to achieve dominion over the little piece of earth and time that God has lent to you. This is your time to shine for God, and to create good habits and patterns that will bless those around you and even your descendants after you!

God charged Adam and Eve with taking dominion over Creation and I believe He still desires us to do that. Under His guidance, we take some control over how we live our lives, and that tends towards peace for us. So let us redeem the time, walk circumspectly, not foolishly, but with wisdom, for though the days may indeed be evil, we must do the work He has given us to do while it is yet day, for night time cometh, when no man can work. Our days may see some trouble, yet we are children of the kingdom and it is a kingdom of LIGHT!

2011-02-21T23:37:00.001-05:00

I am reprinting a very practical article which recently appeared in our newspaper the Virginian Pilot, 2/15/11, by Jamesetta M. Walker. Recently on Lydia Sherman's blog, we were talking about good housekeeping and the subject of ironing came up. I love what Jamesetta has to say about the subject, and also her other tips on the old, tried and true methods of doing certain things. I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I did. (By the way, Jamesetta's bio details her extensive knowledge and expertise in the fashion and style world, and that,

"She's a true Deep South gal who hails from Mississippi's Delta and central regions. Jamesetta goes dormant when the temperature falls below 55. She loves mowing the yard and designing landscapes. She's been a lifelong stickler for style and fashion sensibility. Most days you can spot her wearing purple.")

oldies but goodies

The Virginian-Pilot and The Ledger-Star, Norfolk, VA, Feb 15, 2011 | by JAMESETTA M WALKER

Sometimes it's the simple, tried and true things that make the biggest difference. This applies to most everything, including style and beauty. Here are a few things that should not become practices of the past.
A good iron
When my mother and mother-in-law were no longer in a position to help by ironing my children's clothes, I reflected on how fortunate I had been to have them assist me with that task for some three years. Seeing folks looking like ragamuffins ruffles me, so I knew I wasn't going to ease up on that chore.

I must have gone to five people at work asking if their teen daughters wanted a gig ironing. All but one responded as if I'd asked them to pick cotton. In other words, who's still doing that? It was unbelievable to me that not only were these parents claiming their 16- and 17-year-old daughters didn't iron, but that they never had been shown how to iron.

What in the world?

My mother ironed everything from pillowcases to panties. She said it made lesser-quality items look and feel richer - and she was right. I still tease one of my best friends from high school about how we were always late for everything because her mother would still be ironing her outfits. Ribbing aside, she was among the most well-put-together students in school despite the fact that her clothes came from a discount retailer.
Central to getting that fresh look is buying a good iron. People may scoff at the notion of paying upward of $100, but it's worth the investment.

A cheap iron can ruin your day. It's maddening to have an iron spew brown water onto your shirt minutes before you're headed to work or worship service. Remember scorching one leg of those nice slacks and never getting the wrinkles out of the other ? The culprit was a whack iron that wouldn't hold its heat evenly.
Look for heavier-weight irons with a wattage of 1,700 or more, a sharply angled tip good for ironing in corners, an anti-drip feature, a no-stick plate, and a vertical and horizontal steam function, at the least.

Dry cleaning
Times are tight and you may have to trim expenses, but think twice before cutting out dry cleaning. It can extend the life of your garments, especially mid-grade ones. Although cotton and polyester are washable, I dry clean quite a few of my garments made from these textiles.
You never will be able to iron some garments just right to make them look new again. Or it could be that the fabric begins to pill, fade or lose its shape after the first wash. Dry cleaning will help you save money because your clothes will look better longer and you won't need to buy replacements.
Plus, dry cleaning is efficient. Sometimes there is just not enough time to iron. It's a relief to be able to reach into your closet, grab something and still show up looking good.

A wash and roller set
Expensive blowouts and designer straightening techniques are the rule of the day. Over time those tend to fry the life out of our manes and keep us flocking to hairdressers or in constant search of just the right miracle product to correct the damage.
A wash and roller set used to be the go-to style. Then the rise of the MTV generation gave way to everybody wanting rock star hair blowing in the wind. I'm guilty.
Those roller-set styles started looking ancient. However, advances in technique have led to the roller set looking as flexible and even more fabulous than a blowout. Plus they are cheaper. Ask for a doobie: a roller set that is combed out, brushed around the crown, covered with a plastic cap, set briefly under a dryer and combed again, very minimally using a styling iron in spots if needed.

A slip
Last year a peer mocked slips as a thing of the past. Maybe so, but they ought not be. Appropriate foundation pieces go a long way in helping you make a graceful appearance.
True, not every dress or skirt requires a slip. Many are lined, cut on the bias for more flow or are of a fabric thick enough to have body on their own, such as denim and corduroy.
But in terms of fit, hardly anything is worse than clothes that cling in all the wrong places. A slip can give the appearance of quality because it aids in draping.
Most of all, it hides your business.
Government should be transparent - your dress shouldn't be.
Jamesetta M. Walker, (757) 446-2211, jamesetta.walker@pilotonline.com

2011-02-12T16:25:00.000-05:00

RECIPES FOR THE SICK

I have this great old cookbook put out by the Rumford Baking Powder Company. My edition is from 1932, but the first edition came out in 1908. The author is one Lily Haxworth Wallace, graduate of National Training School of Cookery, London, England. Also, it calls her a "Lecturer and Writer on Home Economics, Consultant, and Food Specialist." She wrote over a dozen cookbooks and also wrote about etiquette.

I find it fascinating to look at recipes and prefaces to chapters of old cookbooks, since they offer a glimpse into what life was like back at the time they were written. I also use this and other old books to learn how to do some of the basic things, or for recipes I remember hearing about but which now are not very familiar.

This book has a chapter devoted to "recipes for the sick". I will duplicate here what Ms. Wallace wrote, as her words contain wisdom for us today:

"The food eaten by a sick person has in many cases as much to do with rapid recovery as have drugs. It must be remembered that the palate is more sensitive in sickness than in health, both to seasonings and temperatures, so that less seasoning and more moderate degrees of heat and cold must be observed.

Daintiness in serving greatly influences the appetite of the patient, and therefore, for this reason it is preferable to serve small portions and present the meal by courses rather than place all on the tray at one time. Have all hot beverages brought to the door of the sick room in a covered pitcher, then poured into the cup, thus avoiding the danger of spilling liquids into the saucer while carrying them to the patient.

Food should not be kept in the sick room between meals. It will be fresher and more appetizing if brought direct from storeroom or refrigerator when wanted.

When liquid foods are given, other receptacles than those for medicine should be used, as the association of the two is oftentimes unpleasant. When the dietary is limited, srve the foods that are permitted, in as many forms as possible to avoid sameness. For instance, beef tea may be given hot in the form of beef essence - as savory jelly, frozen, and as feef tea cusard; practically the same food but more palatable because served in different forms.

Be very careful to keep such foods as milk, beef tea, etc., covered while in the refrigerator, to avoid contact with other or more odorous foods. If the refrigerator has more than one compartment reserve once exclusively for the use of the sick room."

The recipes that follow are:

Lemonade

Barley Water

Toast Water

Eggnog

Junket Eggnog

Albumenized Milk

To Sterilize Milk

Wine Whey

Acid Phospate Whey

Beef and Tapioca Btoth

Invalid's Tea

Clam Broth

Beef Juice

Beef Tea

Oatmeal Gruel

Cornmeal Gruel

Arrowroot Gruel

Irish Moss

Savory Custar

Puffed Egg

Custard Souffle

Egg Cream

Dainty Pudding

Tapioca Jelly

Chicken Chartreuse

Sweetbreads a la Newburg

Beef Cakes

Scraped Beef Sandwiches

Here is the Recipe for Dainty Pudding:

Thin slices of stale bread without crust

Fresh, hot stewed fruit sweetened to taste.

Custard or cream.

Cut the bread into pieces about three inches long and an inch wide. Line a cup with the pieces fitted closely together; fill with hot, deep-colored fruit, and place more bread over the top. Place a plate over the pudding, put a weight on the plate, and set aside till cold. Turn out, and serve with cream or custard.

As you can see, a lot is done with eggs and beef tea, the latter being about the same thing as beef bouillon.

More recipes to follow when I post again.

2011-02-09T01:25:00.000-05:00

ARGUING WITH ATHEISTS

Whew, I have been busy writing my little fingers off for the last five days, earnestly contending for the faith and the souls of three atheists. This occurred in Facebook. I have no trouble debating and rebutting, but I can see where it will end badly, no doubt, because of the hardness of heart I am up against. You know, after awhile, that you wrestle not against flesh and blood and no amount of reasoning will soften their hearts. It just comes back down, I suppose, to earnest, faithful prayer.

I undertook this mission, however, because the one person, a Facebook "friend" who was raised in a conservative Christian church and now has lost his faith seems hell-bent on destroying everyone else's, and denying them the simple pleasure of socializing on FB. This man and his atheist cohorts just jump on their Christian family and friends' pages and flame the mess out of them. You begin to get a hint about just what or I might better say, who, is behind their rantings. So I got sick of it and took them on. Why? Because you never want to allow evil to roll all over people without rebuking it. They need to know that they cannot set fire to everyone's front porches like that with impunity.

I debated whether or not I should reproduce the conversation here - it is a long one, but I think I may not, as I do not wish to give their rantings and "reasonings" a wider audience. But suffice it to say, that after about 20 thousand words or so, on my part, I am ready for the inevitable removing of the gloves, and for the verbal hand-to-hand combat to which these discussions are bound to devolve. Then it will be time to come home.

All the better, because I want to start sharing some material from a really old cookbook I have, its first edition being around the turn of the last century, I think. In the spirit of the last week, I believe I shall begin with the chapter that deals with "Recipes for the Sick".

2011-01-30T21:35:00.000-05:00

IN THE NIGHT SEASON

I have heard from more than one friend this week, of their feelings of frustration, of heaviness, and how at night they are anxious and fearful. Indeed, this winter has been an especially hard one in terms of rain, snow and cold. Many folks seem to lose their way at this time of year, with routines falling off, with feelings of being overwhelmed sure to follow. The time of year and the uncertainties of the times can make us feel as if we are enduring one long, never-ending night.

Are we doomed, because it is winter, to becoming depressed, stir-crazy and paralyzed with fear? I do think the cold, combined with distressing news at home and abroad, certainly conspire with the darkness of the season to try and unnerve us. The lack of sunlight and the necessity of staying in more really do have an effect to be sure. And the reality outside our doors is that people are suffering, there is great anger and unrest in some parts of the world, and that our beloved country is in a state of confusion as to what course we should be taking.

The news reports are of absolutely no help, because they seem to contradict each other. One day all the signs are in place of an improving economy, a trend toward lower unemployment, the stock market is up, and the very next day, we are hearing the opposite being said. This on the same network, out of the same mouths! It is almost getting to where by the end of the newscast they have contradicted what they said at the beginning!

About the only thing they consistently say is that more cold, snow, and flooding is on the way! And we do know, because we see it with our own eyes, that the price of gas and now food continues to rise, sometimes daily. For most of us, the income does not rise, though, and instead is shrinking in the face of these increasing prices.

Loneliness can creep in at this time of year especially, and be an unwelcome companion. I have a dear friend and neighbor whose children are grown and gone and whose husband's job keeps him gone for two weeks at a time. This year, she is feeling so alone. And doesn't Satan just love to figure out ways to make things worse. One day last week, when her husband was home, a strange man came to their door, basically begging. He said he would sweep their porch for them if they would give him money. This kind of thing has never occurred here in the time since we all have lived here since the late 90's. The husband said no, that he could clean his own porch. I do not know if the man knocked on any more doors, but we live across the street and down two houses and I know that he didn't come to our door. We all like to be generous and do charitable works, but I find it kind of unnerving that someone would go into a residential neighborhood and knock on people's doors. I wondered if things are getting this bad that perhaps this type of thing will begin to occur with more frequency.

When I told my husband about it, he said the man might have been checking to see if anyone was home or if there was a woman there alone. Our town has consistently had the distinction of being one of the safest places in the country for years, but in this month of January there have been more robberies committed than in all of last year.

A couple of nights ago, this same friend, alone in the house except for her, thankfully, huge dog, was awakened at 12:30 a.m. by someone ringing the doorbell. She sat up in bed, wondering if perhaps she had been dreaming, but then the dog started barking loudly and throwing himself against the front door, for surely there was someone on the other side. The lady tried to peer out one of the front windows, but she couldn't see anyone. Needless to say, she is not sleeping well at all now.

I am putting all the bad news up front in this post, because I think we owe it to ourselves and to God to be honest about what is going on. Things are not the greatest, and people are worried. If nothing else, we should be praying about the situations that we are facing individually and collectively. But just like David, who would start one of his psalms by lamenting this or that, typically ended them by acknowledging God and His great love and provision for us.

The best way to think about all these problems is to see them not as problems but projects! To reiterate, we may be individually powerless to affect the big things in the world like the wars and the fact that the middle east seems to be blowing up right now, but at least we can pray! Prayer changes things, always, every time. So let us not grow weary, but pray for the people and the leaders.

This is always the first, middle and last thing we should also do for our own personal situations. And then we might just want to approach some of these things as challenges. For instance, the rising prices should be a challenge for us to meet head on. You know, by sitting down and thinking things out, you can stretch every dollar a lot further. If you know you have to drive to a doctor's appointment, sit down and figure out ahead of time what other errands you can do on your way to and from the doctor's. Now I know I am a bit out there, but if I really want to get a good physical workout and burn some calories, I will sweep the floor meticulously and then get down on my hands and knees and scrub it. Or wash the woodwork, the windows and the baseboards. I didn't have to buy or rent a workout video, I didn't have to drive to the gym, much less pay for the membership, and I got some really good work done, too!

Sometimes I just play these little games with myself, like wondering how it would be if I were a Colonial era housewife, how would I be living? As I turn the heat down low and bustle around the house cleaning and cooking and baking, I just think about them doing their homekeeping without electricity, or food security, or running water. But our ancestors came here and took the hardships they faced as challenges. They made the best of things with whatever they could find, make or grow, and put their backs into their work. We have them to look to for inspiration, because look what they accomplished!

My lonely friend is very thankful for her big, somewhat scary(!) dog. He protected her that night by his barking and throwing his body against the door. She also has an alarm system, and I know she is thankful for that, too. So we may not have perfection happening at any given time, but we always have something to appreciate, and some kind of help or comfort, even if its just words on a page. God speaks to us in His word and through His Holy Spirit, so we are never alone or completely bereft.

I think these are the very times in which we need to reach out to each other. I know we can overdo being on the Internet and the Facebook and all, but I also think these enrich our lives by helping us to connect with loved ones and friends, new and old. One of my dear friends, Beth, has had a giant collage (which continues to grow) of photos of her friends and family, and she keeps it hanging up in her house. She calls it her "Prayer Wall". Every day she prays for everyone on that wall. She lives back in my hometown so I don't see her very often, but we "see" each other on Facebook almost daily. I saw where she posted a picture of herself in front of the prayer wall, and it made me remember (because I had forgotten) that she prays for me every day, since my picture is on that "wall". What a tremendous blessing! I feel like I would like to do the same thing. What if we all did something similar? How powerful would that be?

Yes it is winter. And typically cold and bleak. So let's fill our home lives with color and cheer. I learned back in school that the clothing of people in northern climates was always very bright and colorful, as were their furnishings. I like to pull out the old afghans and throws to brighten the rooms and provide something to snuggle in. I also keep my little electric candles in my front windows all year long and put them on around suppertime until its time to go to bed. I also have a "dusk to dawn" candle that is in the Palladian window in the upstairs hallway. It goes on when it gets dark and off when it gets light. It serves as a nightlight and also, I hope, to cheer those who pass by.

This time of year is also a great time to invite someone over for tea and cookies or for a meal. Showing hospitality to someone blesses both parties, and it is a very holy thing to do. God likes it; it says so in His word. If you are not used to doing this, it might seem scary at first. But just try it; and start with someone you feel very comfortable with. Do not worry about having your house perfect. Just make some nice coffee or tea, and serve it on a cleared-off table in sparkling clean cups with a cookie - store bought is fine. The main thing is to show someone else that they are worth spending time with.

There are, I am sure, endless little home projects we can undertake during this time of year when we are housebound so much of the time. And this is the perfect time to establish, or re-establish good, healthy sleep routines. In other words, go to bed early! Turn off the TV and computer, and get in bed with a good book. I might think I am not sleepy, but just let me get in bed and start reading, and in no time, my chin is on my chest!

So let's just be encouraged by all our blessings, and all of our opportunities to make ourselves stronger and more self-sufficient, and more of a blessing to others! It is true that, "...night cometh, when no man can work," but as long as we have breath, it is day, our day, to do the works He has given us to do.

2011-01-20T02:10:00.005-05:00

SUGAR ON SNOW

There is a venerable old custom in Vermont, and that is the making of "Sugar on Snow". Quite simply, on a night when the snow is fresh and deep and you can be assured of accessing a clean pan full, you heat maple syrup up on the stove until it is a bit thick. When it reaches a consistency where it will keep its shape if drizzled on something really cold, well you drizzle it in lines and squiggles over your pan of fresh, tightly packed snow. Then you pick it up and eat it like candy. Often this would be a community event, something to have a get-together around (long before the advent of big-screen TV's). I have been to one such social where they also served the traditional accompaniments: doughnuts and dill pickles. The dill pickles were eaten at intervals between the sweet things, to keep one from being overwhelmed. I first experienced "sugar on snow" at my grandmother's. Her tenant Blake prepared it for us one night, and it was wonderful! I will never forget the delightful taste and the contentment I felt that night.

You may recall that I explained in an earlier post that I spent part of a winter in Vermont with my cousins, while my grandmother and mother went to work to help my uncles launch their new restaurant. By this time my grandmother was 74 years old, but nevertheless, I remember her in the restaurant kitchen every night mixing a huge bowl of green salad, by hand, with her homemade vinaigrette. The same way I do most nights.

Anyways, my cousin Marcie and I would sometimes go and hang out at Grandma's after school when no one was there. Since the door was unlocked, we could just walk in and relax, thereby avoiding going straight home to her little brothers and all the noise. Now, sometime before I was born my grandfather, a master craftsman, gardener and all-around stern, silent guy, had remodeled the huge house and made two apartments upstairs and two downstairs, one of which my grandmother occupied.

At this time the upstairs apartment in the front of the house was home to the aforementioned Blake, a state agricultural inspector of some sort, and his mail order bride, Marisa, a native of the "Eternal City", but who herself was no Roman holiday, that's for sure. She was more like a Roman candle, a spitfire, as my mother called her. Marisa was a short little woman with short brown hair, and a shorter temper. She drove a little Fiat with a license plate that read "Roma".

Blake was Marisa's polar opposite. He was large and gentle, patient and kind, and of old Vermont stock. He was slow of movement and speech, somewhat oafish. Marisa was not. She was a smart dresser, and in fact was an accomplished seamstress. She was quick, horrid and torrid of speech, mean as an alley-cat, and with a hair-trigger temper. Naturally, Blake was her target.

What ever possessed him to "send away for a foreign wife" (or so it was rumored he did), we didn't know. I guess he wasn't having much luck domestically. He was a man of means, though, a "gentleman farmer", as my mother called him (have you noticed that mother always had a hook to hang everything or anyone on?), and indeed I remember one summer day accompanying him and Marisa as he drove around the state visiting his farms and talking with his tenants. Which explains what the attraction must have been for Marisa. Also, she probably needed to land someone who actually didn't know her at all. At least that is how my child-mind perceived it, and I think that's probably about right.

Poor Blake. It must have been like sending away for an ant farm, and opening it up to discover a box full of fire ants.

To say that Marisa was excitable was an understatement. I also have a vivid memory of her at the 1965 New York World's Fair. A whole contingent had come down from Rutland to accompany us to the fair. But somehow I ended up with Blake, Marisa and Charlie, their son (who also had issues) high above the fair on the Swiss cable car ride. Marisa was afraid of heights apparently. We had all been a little nervous, to be sure, but somehow the experience of Miss Roma herself squatting on the floor of the little car, screaming and screeching like the tortured damned strained even Blake's last good nerve. I just remember him sitting quite still, trying to look relaxed as he clenched the sides of the car, white knuckled, while Marisa tried to pull Charlie down on the floor with her. This made the car jerk and sway. Charlie was crying, Blake just kept saying like he always did, "Aw now, Marisa, ah heh, heh, ah heh, heh.." and I was whispering the Act of Contrition, hoping it was perfect enough to land me in heaven immediately after my imminent death.

Apparently my religious fervor had faded by the next year because we decided to play some pranks on Marisa. Cruelly, we didn't spare poor Blake either, whom I guess had to suffer just because we thought he was the biggest dummy to have hooked up with Miss Crazy and brought her into our lives at all.

So we would call them up and say ridiculous things on the phone. I don't even remember what we said but it didn't matter because it made Marisa cranky. Easy enough. But the really fun thing was "The Knock".

In my grandmother's bedroom there was a long, almost walk-in type closet. On the other side of the one wall was the entry hall for the stairs to Blake and Marisa's apartment, and also there was a door on the opposite side of the hall to the other downstairs apartment.. That apartment belonged to old lady Smith, and wait till I tell you sometime about her granddaughter!

So if you knocked on the closet wall on your left, it would sound to the occupants above like someone was knocking on their door. Whoever answered the door upstairs would be bewildered to find no one there. Except if it was Marisa answering the door, the situation would be like waving a red scarf in front of a certain bovine beast on a Sunday night in Madrid.

One day, we came back to Grandma's in a serious snowstorm. By the way, though the snow then was just as cold, thick and deep as it ever is today, oddly it never struck terror into anybody, nor sent folks scrambling to the store to empty it out, nor made the national news like our modern snowstorms do.

So we arrived amidst thickly falling snow, probably poured ourselves a glass of ginger ale or had some orange sherbet, which were two of Grandma's staples, and proceeded to listen to the tirade building upstairs.

What else could we do? We wanted to participate, maybe add a diversion, so we went into the closet and knocked. The shouting stopped as they opened the door. No one there. After a moment, the shouting started again, answered by poor Blake's feeble attempts to calm her down. Which is like pouring water on a cat. So we knocked again, and they opened the door again. By this time we were on the floor convulsing in laughter. I think we might have had one more go around before older and wiser cousin Marcie said "Shush", and that we needed to stop before we were discovered.

I'll never forget what I saw when I came back into the living room and looked out the windows, which were right below their porch upstairs. Down with the late afternoon snow something else began to drift. Blake's clothes! His shirts, his ties, his pajamas, his underwear came silently floating to earth with the cold, chastening snow. Down the stairs ran Blake, and out to the front yard where he chased around wildly, begging her to stop while trying to retrieve his garments.

It was pitiful. Even as a child, I had the revelation standing there, that what was happening was the expression of a tortured soul lashing out at the cosmos, that cosmos being a middle-aged country gentleman for this particular soul. To say that Marisa was evil does not quite fit in my estimation, for she certainly loved her husband and their child, and felt much affection for my grandmother. And she was always kind to me.

A couple of years before that, my mother had taken sick in the night on one of our weekend trips up there. It must have been a kidney stone because she sat up screaming in excruciating abdominal pain, which woke the entire house. My grandmother called the doctor, who charmingly enough got out of his warm bed, dressed and ran over to the house. Grandma of course didn't stop there but proceeded to call all six of the "boys" and their wives. The neighbors (more old Italians) and tenants were either called or took it upon themselves to investigate when all the lights went on and cars began to pull up. I'm sure everyone was yelling, too. All I know is that within minutes the house was filled with people. I remember running from room to room, freaking out. I was crying and desperately negotiating deals with the Almighty.

At one point in all of this, Marisa started following me around, grabbing me up in an embrace and trying in her broken English to comfort me as well as she could. Of course it didn't make me feel any better, but I was aware of her trying.

I don't know what the doctor did for my mother but she must have passed the stone or whatever because by dawn she was feeling better. A follow-up to the doctor the next day and we were on our way. I just remember, and will forever, the terror of that night, me promising the Lord that I would never disrespect my mom again if only He would save her, and Marisa. She was the only one who saw and could feel my anguish and tried to console me.

I imagine that today Marisa would be diagnosed as bi-polar. But if there is any truth to Thoreau's famous saying that "most men lead lives of quiet desperation," as certainly did poor Blake, perhaps we can also say that some men and some women lead lives of noisy desperation. Extroverted in temperament, they look at their predicament in life, the unrealized dreams, the closed off paths, the extreme discomfort of having to play the cards that circumstance and their own hands have dealt them, and they give full vent to their frustration.

Much to the horror and discomfort of everyone else. And also to the sometimes amusement of other poor sinners known as children.

I don't think we ever pranked them again. And the ironic thing is, they stayed married for decades more, till one day poor old Blake added one more piece of property to his collection, to wit, he bought the farm. The big one.

And to be sure, no widow ever cried longer, and certainly no LOUDER, than did Marisa.

2011-01-16T00:38:00.000-05:00

HOW TO KEEP BUSY AT HOME


Cape Cod Cottage, by Paul Landry, buy at Allposters.com

When our lives are centered around our homes and families, we can be as busy as bees on a June morning if we so desire. Or we can pace ourselves, or just have a quiet, restful day. We work this out for ourselves, in the general absence of deadlines. For those who haven't tried making home life their full time "job", I can quite imagine that they would wonder what on earth we do all day. Don't we run out of things to do? Isn't it boring?

I hardly know where to start to try to convey the difference between just doing enough at home to sustain life so that you can spend your time at work, and actually "making" home your vocation. The difference between the two ways of life is like imagining what strawberries and cream taste like as you chew sawdust all day, and well, feasting on strawberries and cream.

When I work full-time (which usually includes overtime), I will plainly say that most all of my domestic feelings fly out the window and I do not feel like doing anything at home but flopping on the couch, eating supper and falling into bed. The weekends are consumed with fighting the crowds at the supermarket and on the roads, then doing laundry, yardwork and just trying to catch up enough to be able to slide out the door again early Monday morning for work. Naturally, but it came as quite a revelation to me, I find myself uncharacteristically annoyed if unexpected company shows up during this time, or I get a phone call from an out-of-town relative who wants to catch up. I find any interruption of my time on the weekend extremely painful, since I know I only have these few hours to do the maintenance work of life.

On my breaks and at lunch, I literally run to my car for refuge. It becomes my pseudo-home where I can relax and think a thought or two that has nothing to do with my work. This is important because the nature of my work is all-consuming, non-stop and exacting. I no more want to sit around the break room and engage in office gossip than I'd want to hang from a telephone pole on a rainy Autumn night, trying to fix a power line while the wet wind blows in my face.

Since I only do this job about five months out of the year, I make myself do it and keep in mind that soon I'll be back home, and things will get back to normal. Because when I am home, I become a human being again and stop being a specialist robot on auto-pilot.

When I am home, I have time to contemplate, to feel the warm earth beneath bare feet as I saunter out back to pick a few herbs for a meal I am preparing. I can sit here at my computer researching whatever I have a current interest in, looking up recipes or writing on my blog. If my daughter or older sons stop by, I can make them a bite to eat or some coffee and we can sit and chat. My husband, who is disabled with back problems, is retired and home now, so we often will go food shopping or to Walmart or the local hardware store together. The roads are quiet, the stores sparsely populated and my heart is not racing.

I can do the many aspects of housekeeping that often get ignored when working full-time. I can dust, and wipe baseboards, hang clothes outside to dry, wipe the smudges off windows and woodwork, clean out a drawer or closet, wash out all the little trash cans in the rooms and set them in the sun to dry, iron clothes, try new recipes, de-clutter, and find countless other tasks that will call to me for attention.

Being home gives you time to think and to see the big picture. You have the leisure to figure out better ways of doing things. You can sit down and spend some time looking over papers and finances, and finding where waste can be cut, and income preserved or stretched. Even taking the time to look at the weekly grocery specials, lining up any coupons that can be used on top of that, and then planning meals accordingly saves a lot of money, and gives you the satisfaction of taking control of the family's health and finances in this area for the week. Congratulations, you just "earned" some money with the added benefit of being the boss of the operation!

Perhaps it might be good to just mention a few of the things I was able to do in the last week because I was home.

Because I was home, I was able to get some extra sleep because I wasn't feeling well.

I had time to talk to my daughter about some things that were bothering her, and some decisions she needed to make.

When my foster daughter got sick, I was able to drop everything and bring her to the doctor. I had put a roast beef in the oven, and when it was apparent that we were going to be delayed at the busy doctor's office, I called my dear husband and asked him to heat up some vegetables that I had on hand in my well-stocked pantry. We came home to a beautiful dinner. Though I was cleaning up the kitchen much later than usual, it was OK because I did not have to get myself ready for work the next morning, nor get into bed by a certain time.

I also accompanied my husband to his doctor's appointment. When we got home, our oldest son soon stopped by for a visit.

My husband and I were able to leisurely visit a couple of stores one day last week and I found Christmas gift tags on sale for 74 cents, a damask cloth tablecloth for the dining room table for $3.24, sets of Christmas ornaments for $1.49, as well as various other items for 75% off. That completes everything I need to be able to wrap next year's presents whenever I start shopping for them, plus snag a couple of good bargains on other useful items. I did some comparison shopping for a set of Correlle dishes I want but am not buying at present, until they go on sale somewhere. We did the same thing today at Home Depot, looking at storm doors. When we found out that they will probably go on sale towards summer, we decided to wait until then.

I went to an overnight retreat with some ladies from one of our church's ministries.

I have been going through receipts, utility bills, and all kinds of paperwork from 2010. I am lining up all my rebate offers with the receipts, and plan to send them off this week.

I am catching up on phone calls that need to be made in order to get information or straighten out orders or doctor's appointments, etc.

I have written four articles, including this one, for my blog, as well as having the time to read other blogs and articles of interest online.

I have cleaned and organized several drawers, and compiled a couple of boxes of items to donate to the thrift store nearby.

I planned my meals and thawed out meat ahead of time so I would be good to go.

Of course on top of these things, I kept up with the housework, cooked from scratch every day, and took some time to talk to the Lord and to think about some decisions that I need to make. As a result, I have dropped out of one of the ministries I was involved in, and have decided to end another activity I was involved in. Both of these things had served their purpose and my time with them has run it's course, I am led to believe.

I believe I am happier living this way, and therefore, my family is happier. I am not barking, snapping or simply tuning them out. Doing things for others brings me joy, and being home gives me the chance to make my own schedule and do things at my own pace. I do not have to worry about pleasing my boss, and answer only to my husband. If I displease him, at least I know he loves me and is not going to fire me! And he is secure in knowing my love for him and my commitment to him.

Women have a need to share and to nurture, without deadlines and pressure says John Gray, PhD., and author of the book Venus on Fire Mars on Ice. According to what he's gleaned from studying indigenous cultures, he found that women routinely work alongside other women, doing the necessities of life, which for them center around hearth and home. The manner in which they work, steady, unhurried, and communally, helps build their levels of the hormone oxytocin, which fills the female body with a sense of peace and well-being. He contends that this is central to a woman's physical and mental health throughout life and certainly provides protection as she ages.

On the other hand, women in our modern, push-push, deadline driven culture begin to experience a stress-related breakdown of health because they are operating in a way that is foreign to their needs. In fact, they are forced to behave and react in ways suited to the male of the species - something he thrives on, but something we do not.

So you see, we can best "contribute to society" by building up our homes and loved ones. We can be rich beyond measure, by owning our time, making our own choices, and even adding material wealth to our family by focusing in on how we can most efficiently acquire things we need and even some things that are luxuries.
We have the time to prepare our carefully chosen or home-grown food, and serve it to the delight and health of our families. We can be rich in social interaction by showing hospitality to others, or making visits, phone calls or writing letters.

These are the things which make life rewarding and worth living in my estimation. If anything I feel a little guilty to have such an abundant life on a fraction of what other folks are bringing in. But I am always thankful.

2011-01-14T12:32:00.001-05:00

WINTER MEMORIES


It Snows, Oh It Snows by Grandma Moses © 1951 - 15" x 12" from Artique.com

I am unpacking some winter memories today, and after unearthing them after all these years, I must admit I never thought about how odd they might seem to folks today. My memories of the eccentricities of my childhood seem now like clothes left forgotten in the attic. After seeing such things, so long out of style, one can scarcely believe anyone wore them. But they did.

When I was 11 years old, my mother and I spent part of the winter in her hometown of Rutland, VT, as she was trying to help two of her brothers get started in their new restaurant. It was a wonderful Italian restaurant, proudly named Bernardina's, after my grandma. She decided to do this one day, so she packed us up and put me in school in Rutland. My father was probably laid off for the winter from his construction job, and she just left him and my teen-aged brother there to hold down the fort while she went on her mission. I suspect my brother might have been happy for this turn of events.

It seems kind of odd that she would do that now when I think back on it. My mother was a special person, but not as rare as one might first think. She was indeed very independent, but enjoyed her independence within the soft nest of being in a traditional, religious (then typical) family. Hard to explain, but she was married to Dad faithfully for 48 years until her death, raised my brother and I beautifully on my father's small salary, but was blessed in that she had a quick mind, a vibrant spirit, and a husband who had no issues with her flitting on and off a little project now and then.

For instance, when I was seven and in the second grade, she decided to start her own diner. Again it was winter, again my father was out of work (which perfectly fit her plans as she made him the dishwasher), and Grandma was available to come down from Vermont and cook. As I have mentioned before on this blog, Grandma was built just like a Sherman tank and had the raw strength and power of one, as well.

Unlike the tank she was a lot faster, though, as I personally witnessed her cleaning up the entire kitchen many times (no dishwasher or disposal) after having fed tons of people, in under 10 minutes. This included putting all the dishes away. You really didn't want to be in her way when she was working like this, and since you might be slain on the spot if you got close enough to breath on any of her windows or starched curtains, it was best to just go outside.

So my mother, as good a cook and baker as Grandma, a whiz with numbers, and the kind of person who, upon meeting, most people just became their true selves with and compulsively coughed up personal information, giving up secrets and everything, went into business. Up went the sign bearing the very original and clever name for a diner: "Mary's".

She was wildly successful, made lots of money and endeared herself to anyone who walked through the door. After three months, she up and quit. Went out of business. Why? Well, she was tired of it, and missed being home with my brother and I, and besides, now it was spring and my father was getting hired back onto a construction job. Grandma packed up her aprons, and called one the "boys" (my uncles who all lived up home in Vermont), to come get her. She put herself into the Cadillac, along with a huge order from the Italian importing store in Schenectady, and her new foundation garments and dresses from Nelson's (affectionately referred to as the "fat lady store") and rode off into the sunset, waving and blowing kisses.

My father, I seem to remember vaguely, was only too happy to escape "Mary's" kitchen and get back out with the men, digging ditches. And he was equally happy, extra money and success aside, to say good-bye to "Mary's", and get Mary back where she belonged as queen of the realm at the house. Funny how men back then were not so concerned with income so much as they were with living a cozy, well-ordered life.

My mother came home, which delighted me. For the past three months I had been tended to in the morning by an older lady named Clare. She was nice enough, but I felt lonely. She was a stranger in my house, making me soggy french toast and bringing me to school. I just couldn't acclimate myself to this! She wasn't my mom and there was no getting around it. After school my dad would get me and bring me to the diner where I would stay with them until after the dinner hour, and then we'd all come home around 7 pm and go to bed early. I don't remember where my 12 year old brother would spend his time after school. Maybe he would be there a lot, but more likely he was probably hanging out in the neighborhood, hitting passing cars with snowballs, and just being the biggest smart-aleck. What a trouble maker that kid was!

So my childhood was pretty interesting, really. While I was in Vermont staying with my favorites, Uncle Pat, Aunt Margie and their six kids, it was, as I said, the dead of winter. Back then, of course, there was not much electronic amusement for youngsters, and the grown-ups were not in the habit of providing money, and pre-fabricated entertainment to children nor so-called "quality time" with them. They were more prone to spend "quantity time" with us, the women home all day, the men at work, but everyone around the dinner table at night. After that, the adults would sit in the living room and watch a sometimes fuzzy TV that received about three channels on a good day.

There was, I should point out, no "family room" in anybody's house, as I recall. Heck, my uncle's house had a dirt cellar which held the most amazing and unique feature: a huge boulder sitting right in the middle of it! I guess back in the 1860's when they dug out the foundation, they found it and just decided to leave it be - wouldn't hurt anything, would it?

So most every night, my cousin Marcie and I would, just for fun, venture out into the still, frozen darkness and down the road about a half a mile to a little store owned by an old, almost totally blind, lady. She lived in the back of the store, and you had to pull a string when you entered, which would ring a bell back in her quarters to let her know she had a customer.

Have you ever heard the expression, "robbing you blind"? Well, it did not apply here, amazingly enough. Apparently this system had gone on for years, and in that part of the universe (perhaps it was a parallel universe, after all) all the customers were honorable. Including us. We would chat with the old lady, buy something cheap and then walk home. Most of the time, strangely enough, we would buy an ice cream cone. Vanilla, I think was the only flavor she had. But ice cream on January nights in New England! Intrepid youth!

Often, snow would be falling on our ice cream cones, as we leisurely made our way back up the road, fantasizing to each other about our future husbands. Oh, they would be lucky, handsome, and insanely rich husbands! We would pick them from the royalty and rock stars we'd undoubtedly meet and smite with our beauty one day. The snow would pile onto our cones, making them last a little bit longer. And how clever of us to eat ice cream outside when it was too cold for it to melt and drip down the cone like it does in summer.

Well, I have unpacked a couple of boxes today, and I see lots more to be gone through in the time to come. To some these things might be clutter, but to me they are precious keepsakes which have helped to form me along the way.

As I look back over my shoulder, I see lots of adventure here, because this attic is packed!

2011-01-12T12:01:00.000-05:00

WHEN FEELINGS ARE HURT AND THE SOUL IS HEAVY


Cinderella, by Nadir Quinto (buy at Allposters.com)

"A merry heart doeth good [like] a medicine: but a broken spirit drieth the bones."
Proverbs 22:17

A broken spirit, I can attest, also makes me feel like a hundred pound weight is sitting in my stomach. I suppose, as frail and fallen human beings, we can hardly avoid the occasional dust-up with someone, be it loved one, friend, co-worker, boss, or that guy who just cut you off in traffic.

We feel frustrated, wronged, shamed sometimes. And have you ever tried to do something you thought was helpful and good and then were told in no uncertain terms that you were wrong or that you really screwed up? In short, have you been rebuked or rebuffed, even in a small way, then had a hard time letting go of the pain?

This is a sorry state to be in, and I know what I am talking about. I have always been "sensitive". Let me tell you, it's really unattractive and burdensome. Do we really want to go around moping or crying, or being unfulfilled and unproductive by injustices real, or exaggerated that we might encounter today? We all know it feels like garbage and yet we are often locked into the feeling, and find ourselves obsessively and endlessly composing snappy comebacks or clever actions which vindicate us and maybe inflict a little pain on the offending party, to boot. Funny thing though, none of this ever seems to really help, or make us feel good again. Why? Because they are born of a sinful response to our hurt pride. And yet, we seem to be stuck in them, as one tangled in a net.

"Oh, wretched man that I am; who can deliver me from this body of death?" cries the apostle Paul, who was also fed up with being a compulsive sinner, it seems. But what was his next thought, and his reply to his painful question?

"But thanks be to God through our Lord Jesus Christ!" Romans 7:25-26

As always, it's always about the Lord, who is our answer to any problem we are faced with.

There is a prayer that I used to read a lot. It was found in a periodic, Anglican devotional called Forward Day by Day. Part of it went something like this:

"preserve me from minding little stings, or giving them..."

So we are to ask the Lord, according to this prayer, to preserve or keep us safe from being hurt by the little bits of carelessness or unkindness of others we might encounter today. And to prohibit us from stinging back. What tools does He give us to free ourselves from that obsessive-compulsive constraint of hurt feelings and desire for revenge?

One of the answers is contained in the very "dry bones" verse itself.

"A merry heart doeth good [like] a medicine..." We do not have to feel like it, but we can make an act of the will to dwell on happy, cheerful thoughts. A good place to start is by being thankful for some of our countless blessings. We can pray for others, too, especially those who offend us. Takes the wind right out of the devil's sails when we do that, doesn't it?

Here are some more verses that clue us in on what makes for "healthy bones", a metaphor for many things, including a sound foundation for our life:

"Be not wise in thine own eyes: fear the LORD, and depart from evil. It shall be health to thy navel, and marrow to thy bones" (Proverbs 3:7-8).

"Pleasant words are as an honeycomb, sweet to the soul, and health to the bones" (Proverbs 16:24).

"Behold, thou desirest truth in the inward parts: and in the hidden part thou shalt make me to know wisdom. Purge me with hyssop,

and I shall be clean: wash me, and I shall be whiter than snow.

Make me to hear joy and gladness; that the bones which thou hast broken may rejoice" (Psalm 51:6-8).

Besides all that, time to get busy, Cinderella, work is good for the soul! Whistle while you work, too, remember, or better yet, sing praise songs!

"...a cheerful heart hath a continual feast." Proverbs 15:15

And somehow there's a handsome prince involved at the end!

Better than that - the King of Kings!

2011-01-11T22:52:00.000-05:00

IN THE TIME OF WINTER

The new year is upon us, and I am back, in a manner of speaking, from my hiatus. God bless whoever decided it was good to celebrate Christmas at the beginning of winter. They not only capitalized on the season of the first return of longer days, but also blessed us with an opportunity to take this quieter time in the year in which to decompress from the frenzy of "the holidays", and contemplate a few things about our lives. Long nights and cold days have a way of muting the sharp edges of everyday life outside our homes.

Any time that motorcycles are put away in garages and outside sounds are muffled by snow is a good time for me. In the time when people lived an agrarian lifestyle winter was their slow season when work was slack and in fact, people would marry in the late fall and winter, as I believe the Amish do still.

We need winter to recuperate, because "doing" these holidays is not for amateurs, and boy, did these last ones take about everything out of me that I could give, and then some. Something is not quite right with that, is it?

Running concurrent with them, I had been managing a couple of part-time jobs, church commitments, and was needed for running folks to appointments and often having to "hang out" while they did their thing. Really time-consuming. Then there were the illnesses to tend. So that jingle-jangle sound heard through the town was not sleigh bells, but actually my damaged nerves about to give out. I feel the need right now to write about my experience in the hopes that it will help me sort things out, and maybe help someone else to maybe get a different perspective, too.

Here is something I figured out a long time ago, but always refuse to acknowledge once November dawns: my fore-mothers were not involved in outside jobs or all these other activities, and therefore, outside of going to Mass, they devoted themselves
to hearth and home, and therefore could do all the cooking, cleaning and baking they wished. Not that they didn't work hard; indeed, they worked very hard without all the modern conveniences, but their lives were simpler and more focused on home. And my Italian grandmothers could make Zeppoles and Struffuli, because they were not also making French Buche de Noel, and English fruitcake, and nine other kinds of cookies from various lands. And they could keep their simply furnished homes clean and tidy, ready for drop-in visitors, because they were not outside stringing lights and garland over everything, decorating every room in their house on top of all the normal clutter, or going to meetings or practices and running the roads day and night. Do their lives sound drab to you? Maybe I'm weird (oh, of course I'm weird) but it sounds heavenly to me.

Naturally, to be successful in any era, it also helps to be an organized person, and I have slowly and painstakingly learned to be better at this. But I wasn't born that way, and have often been a slow learner. However, is it always the case that the reason we cannot successfully cram more and more into our days because we are just not organized enough? Or, perhaps, instead are we trying to do way too much? Saying yes to people and opportunities when we should say no?

I have been doing some soul-searching lately, to say the least. I have realized that no matter how much or little money we make, one or the other of us has a tendency to want to spend a little more than we bring in. So I potentially have the same dilemma, whether I am home, happy and able to do what I feel I am called to do, or whether I am out there trying to work at all this crazy stuff, sweating and stressing about money and my duties. We will continue to have a problem unless we stop over-spending.

So, with God's help, I am determined to rein in the situation and just in the last week, resisted the temptation to spend about $1,300 on various projects. I also plan to make respectful but straightforward appeals to my husband when he gets in that mood to overspend, and be very careful of our finances from here on out.

A dear friend made me think of something else. She asked me if I was trying to do all this to earn love. Ouch, that hurt, but she was probably right. I think I try to overdo everything in an effort to be the best, or more accurately, in order be worthy, and perhaps the worthiest. Now that is ugly. We all know that "all have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God." And that there is "no one worthy, no not one." And that being made right with God, is all His doing, not mine. Accepting His free gift of "being made worthy by Him" is my job. Making Him Lord of my life is my job. Trying, with His help to discern His will and to obey Him, is my job. Remembering this and casting all my cares on Him leaves me feeling refreshed and joyful, and not enervated and exhausted.

I think that is how our work on earth should leave us feeling, too. If what we do is in obedience to God's will and is done ultimately out of love for Him and others, than it may make us physically tired, but joyful and satisfied at the end of the day. If what we engage in leaves us upset and dissatisfied, then we are probably doing things that we were never meant to do.

As far as trying to earn the love, respect and admiration of other people, I have to plead guilty to this as well. How hard is that to let go? Oh, its awfully hard for me. I want to make people happy, and I don't want to be mean, and I don't want to hurt anybody's feelings. Well, guess what happens when I try to make everybody happy? I end up just a bit short (just like in my finances) of hitting the mark, coming just this close to fulfilling their wishes, but not quite. Which means, as far as they're concerned, that I didn't do any of it right. And I, at the point of collapse, tend to become a little whiny, a little short and sharp-tongued, and then, oh boy, is everyone unhappy with me!! That's right - NOBODY IS HAPPY!!

Which leaves me feeling lower than a dirt sandwich. So beginneth the cycle anew to earn back my points with the Almighty and my fellow humans.

So, I'm stopping. I am quitting a job tomorrow and a church "ministry" that have kept me tied down for a long time now. I hope that other women will be able to stop, too, whatever it is that they were not called to do, or no longer called to do. If we fulfill the biblical mandate of being a keeper at home, and we do what's necessary to take care of ourselves as well, then I think God will bless us with well-being and His peace.

And as far as getting every piece of tinsel and glitter on everything, going nuts with these gifts, and baking and cooking every recipe that "looks good", then going into meltdown, maybe we need to ask ourselves why. Why do we ruin these holy days that God gives us with so much overkill? One time I foolishly tried to go to the Mall on the day after Christmas. I saw people cussing and fighting over parking spots, and it occurred to me, that indirectly they were engaging in this ugly, sinful behavior in a way that was somehow connected to the humble birth of our Savior Jesus Christ. I was horrified and I went home.

And going home is a very good place to start to get it right.

2010-10-22T23:52:00.000-04:00

COMPLINE

Keep watch, dear Lord, with those who work, or watch, or
weep this night, and give your angels charge over those who
sleep.

Tend the sick, Lord Christ; give rest to the weary, bless
the dying, soothe the suffering, pity the afflicted, shield the
joyous; and all for your love's sake. Amen.
(From the Anglican Book of Common Prayer)

2010-10-20T18:36:00.000-04:00

Sometimes I respond with lengthy comments on other people's blogs, as I did today on Thinking Housewife. I thought it might be good to re-post my comments here on my own blog, because I think the subject is worthy of expression here. I dedicate these words to any who may read them, the believers, those who are looking for a reason to believe, and for those friends who may have lost their way.

ON WHY IT IS EASY FOR ME TO BELIEVE

I personally have no problem with the miracles and unprecedented circumstances surrounding the life of Christ. Jesus said His believers would do the things He did on earth and even greater things, and I have witnessed many a miracle, myself. In fact, miracles just seem to be what happens where true belief exists and faith is walked out in the nitty gritty details of life. As one Anglican bishop said of answered prayer and seeing God’s hand, “These may be mere coincidences, but the more I pray, the more they seem to occur.”

Are we the most deluded, and therefore the most to be pitied for it? Even if that were true, I have had, so far, a wonderful, hope-filled existence by being such a believing rube! In fact, God through Jesus has not only given me life, but the gift of being amused by my own life. God is the divine comic, and since all comedies have happy endings, we can be confident and content with our beginning, the middle, and our end.

Jesus also tells us of a common sense way to discern whether He is the truth. He reminds us that a tree is known by its fruit. Fig trees produce figs, not brambles, good trees produce good fruit, and bad trees produce bad fruit. Where folks undergo a true conversion, they truly change, and the good fruit their lives produce testifies that God is real and really working through them and on their behalf.

Seeing creation itself, and God’s hand in my own life and in the lives of real people I have personally known, also removes the problem of evolution, the parting of the Red Sea, the virgin birth, and all the rest. A God who witnesses to Himself through this incredible creation, and who can redeem the most desperate, failed lives through His son, Jesus Christ, would have no problem making all the physical universe in six days if that’s what He wanted to do, or however He wanted to, with evolution, adaptation, or whatever. I really don’t see what the big deal is about that. Are we still such children that we think we have it all figured out? That there isn’t any more to know than what is known at present? Are we like the head of the U.S. Patent Office, who in the 1860’s quit his position because he said that there was now nothing left to be invented?

Maybe a lot of folks are so disheartened that they cannot fathom a God who would be so loving and personally involved that He could create them and wish to give them eternal life through His Son. I would just challenge any of those people to suspend their disbelief for a couple of days and just go with it, and see if their lives do not dramatically change. I know their lives will change because I know that God will show up.

Now I confess that I do enjoy all the traditions, the ritual, the liturgical seasons, the traditionalist culture, the art and ethics of a civilization that was once Christ-infused, but these are truly just dividends on the stock which is ridiculously rising all the time, that is, that the Holy Trinity exists, and that in Him we live and move and have our being.

That is why you will find me plodding along, in spite of a misstep or two along each day’s way, as I feebly attempt to lift high and carry the banner of Christ along the dusty streets of life.

2010-10-20T09:45:00.000-04:00

HOORAY FOR HARVEST!!

As the temperature finally eases off a bit from it's usual setting - hot, life becomes a lot more enjoyable. The roses finally feel well enough to bloom and we are starting to think of ourselves more as people and less as insect prey. In fact, one can even open the back door and go out without a fly making it his business to come in!

But the fact that we are in between air conditioning season and heating season makes this a most glorious time! The possibility of us saving a buck or two right now is a Godsend. So this is about the only time I'll get till next spring to have the windows open, and therefore its time to do some fall cleaning, and maybe a little painting.

I have started to brush down ceilings and walls. Next comes cleaning out cupboards and closets, then its washing windows and curtains, woodwork, cleaning and polishing furniture, and finally washing and polishing floors. Did I leave anything out? Oh, probably. And that is just inside the house.

Bob already got most of the junk out of the garage. I am really proud of him. I would love to get it completely empty, then repaint and finish the floor and paint that, so it can be hosed down and mopped up at times. Boy, do I ever want a lot! I will be satisfied with just taking the shop vac to it every week for now. After all, we still have to take care of yard/garden issues.

That will be simple enough. The garden has to be tilled under, we have to throw some grass seed around the yard, and put down some more mulch in the flower beds. Well, maybe move two rose bushes which do not get enough sun where they are right now.

Why do people ever say they are bored or do not have enough to do? I mean, I don't even work full time, and I don't have small children, just big people and small monsters who pass themselves off as cats and the dog. What I have just told you I have to accomplish does not even include the usual cooking, baking, entertaining, church work, and writing. But really, compared to the ER nurses with little kids at home, the mothers who run marathons when they are not running their companies or in court prosecuting cases, or the teachers who tend bar on the weekends, I am a complete slug. (But really, where do these women come from, I mean, what planet?).

Well, so, I am not a person making big bucks or big waves, but perhaps I can impress you with my next venture. I am taking up alchemy. I may not be able to turn lead into gold yet, but I plan to turn 300 dollars into Christmas for my family this year. A Christmas far more glorious than grand, for sure, but with God's help, its going to happen, and I bet the people I want to bless will be no more miserable than they are when I have spent thousands, and no less happy, either! Maybe more happy. Maybe happy as the little Who's from Who-ville. Now that would be turning lead into gold.

2010-09-30T19:24:00.000-04:00

HOMESTEAD UPDATE

We are in the middle of a deluge of rain from two different systems which came one right after another. It was warm, weird and very wet out today. I snapped these two pics last night before I snapped up a plateful of goodness, so here they are.

Sweet red peppers with Italian bread and anchovy stuffing

The typical salad served at my house several times a week.

I hope everyone is safe and dry this evening, as we say good-bye to September - already!! I can scarcely believe it.

2010-09-29T11:30:00.000-04:00

THE HOMESTEAD IN EARLY FALL


Tiny crab apples against the background of the dying garden

Some things have begun their inevitable decay as we now find ourselves in the dying of the year. The garden, tired and overgrown, yet produces some tomatoes, peppers, green beans and herbs, for which I am most thankful. Is it a metaphor to say that we, who have left youth behind and are steadily on our own inexorable march have still yet something to offer, some fruit to produce? I like to think of life being like that. Some of these garden offerings didn't even begin to take off until the intense heat of summer was over. Now that's an analogy to ponder!

Roses from my flower beds

As you might guess from reading any of this blog, I am a person quite in tune with the seasons and the mysteries of the natural world. I like to decorate the house seasonally, change out furnishings, and eat what is in season. I think it is very healthy and rewarding to live according to the natural rhythms of life. There is a time and a place to do everything, and this especially is good for children and for those whose emotions have been strained, or are otherwise under some kind of pressure. Wouldn't people and society in general be more well-adjusted if they got up with the sun and went to bed at a reasonable hour, so that their bodies could repair themselves at the optimum time for doing so? For more information on this topic and many related to it, click here

I also think this would improve our shared life, since people would feel better and thus be more productive and less anti-social. Couples would be in bed together instead of one surfing the web while the other falls asleep in front of the TV. There would just be a lot less trouble for folks to get into, and a lot less money spent on foolishness.

The season we are now in lends itself to settling down earlier anyways. Fall is the time that the outward turns inward. We gather the harvest in, we bring the lawn furniture and trappings of summer in for the winter, we ourselves settle in due to shorter days and cooler temperatures. I happen to love this. Today is a dark and rainy day, so I've got my electric candles on in the windows and a Yankee candle burning in here. The fragrance is called Farmers Market and its pretty yummy. I made my hubby his good Irish oatmeal, and I know what I am making for supper tonight.

This is when I start using my oven again and I have an old recipe that I will be making.It is an Italian dish that my mother used to make in the fall when the big, red sweet peppers are at their finest. I stuff them and bake them with a stuffing that has a bit of anchovy in it - you cannot really tell what it is but it makes it delicious. (Please do not mention this to the kids, OK? In all these years, they haven't found out about the anchovies or the chicken feet I use when I make up some serious chicken broth). It is baked with a bit of red sauce covering it, then we add a little more along with some grated Parmesan, at the table. I will probably just serve this with a really crisp Romaine salad.

Tomorrow perhaps I can update this post with a picture of the stuffed peppers. I definitely should have taken a pic of the golumpki from Bob's birthday supper last week. Another oven dish that turned out so nicely.

Here are some other things going on in my home this week:

The roses pictured here are cut from my beds - I went out early yesterday morning and dead-headed several, and picked these beauties to grace my counter. I love the way they smell - there is just nothing quite so special as fresh roses, in my view.

We finally got our youngest over to the eye doc for a check up and new contacts. That is a load off my mind. His eyes have not changed - another good thing! We don't have to replace his glasses which he uses when he is at home, and just need to buy contacts. We went to a new place that opened, called America's Best Eyeglasses and Contacts; they charge 99 dollars, which covers a yearly eye exam for three years, with additional exams (say, for an eye infection) as necessary. Then they give you a discount on the contacts/glasses. We also paid an extra 15 dollars so that our son could get the exam where they look behind the eyes without having to dilate them (a new process, I guess). Awesome!

I am trying to set up the same son for his SAT test. He doesn't want to take this, so we are having a little back and forth about it. He is wonderful student, taking college preparatory courses but he hasn't sold himself on the idea of actually going to college. So this needs prayer and discernment for all involved.

My friend JoAnn is going on a woman's retreat at our church this weekend and so I am involved with doing something on her behalf which I am not at liberty to discuss right now, just in case she reads this post!

I reorganized my freezer and shelves of canned goods (out in the garage), and inventoried these along with the pantry so I knew exactly where I stood before going to the commissary yesterday and bringing back tons of supplies. It had been awhile since I was able to do this, and it was just such a blessing to be able to finally get there and restock. Now I can bake and do everything I have been planning on. In the process of going through stuff, I also was able to put together several bags of food for the food bank. From what I read in our paper, it is in dire need of donations right now, with even folks who used to donate to it having to line up to ask for food from it!!

So I gathered some cans of things I had bought in case we had that hurricane, and also took one of everything that we had two of, and put those in the bags. I felt that the Lord was specifically instructing me to do that, so it felt good to be obedient to His call.

As well as food, I have a large bag of clothing to donate, probably across the street at the Salvation Army. Some things that are too big (yay), and some stuff of the boys'. I will do this today, as yesterday I had the pleasure of going shopping with my grown daughter and son, and she drove her car, so my errands are waiting till today.

I also applied for a couple of jobs - a time consuming experience, for sure.

Monday night I picked beans, basil and hot peppers from the garden and made a wonderful, hot and spicy vegetable soup with chicken broth, the aforementioned veggies, onions, fresh parsley, garlic, crushed tomatoes, chunks of chicken, sea salt, and acine de pepe pasta. I have been having allergy problems which affect my sinuses, and boy does that kind of soup (especially spiced up with those fresh off the vine, little red peppers) minister to my condition!

Yesterday, upon taking inventory, I saw that for some reason I had two opened boxes of whole wheat rotini pasta, and I knew I had some chicken breast meat left over from the night before, so I made a pasta and chicken salad with shredded cheddar cheese, onions, broccoli, carrot, green and red pepper, parsley, and my homemade mayonnaise. I served the leftover soup alongside this, with Italian bread.

See, this is why none of them can stay mad at me for long. They get hungry, and that's when I get them, ha, ha!

I am going to a young college lady today in math and also help her with her report which she has to present in front of her English class. I am actually looking forward to that, more so than I am in doing some more weekly housecleaning chores. But once I get going in them, I tend to not want to stop, so its all good!

Now I am off to start those chores, so I will end this tale of a happy housewife here. Lord willing, to be continued..................

View from the front porch

2010-09-23T10:41:00.000-04:00

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY GOOD OLD BOY BOB!! I'M OLD, BUT YOU'RE OLDER!!!


At breakfast this morning, putting on that little smile for the camera

Oh Bob, I really appreciate the fact that I have you in my life and that you eat (mostly) whatever I put in front of you with no complaints (99% of the time). I finally have gotten you to eat oatmeal in the morning and so I try to serve you the finest Irish oatmeal with real maple syrup because the king of the castle should have his kingly gruel. Also, it lowers cholesterol and maple syrup has hardly any fructose in it, which is also helpful in avoiding diabetes.

So yes, I have known you lo these many years and you just keep getting better and better. This is easy for you, considering the first time I laid eyes on you I was a little girl and you and your brother were dropping ice balls on my father's car as we passed under the bridge near my house. I watched you running away as my father and brother set off on foot to try to catch you, and knew you were a bad boy, but little did I know you would someday become my bad boy!

You don't look like such a bad boy now, do you?

I could say that time has tamed you, but I'd rather think that love has. Thank you for being my true love, and thank you for given me five beautiful children - four wild boys, and one wild girl. Now let's go get that chuck roast that is on sale at the store and have them grind it up so I can make you your favorite - galumpkis - not sure if that's how it's spelled but it means stuffed cabbage rolls. And after that, we'll do your favorite thing, which is to wander through the aisles at the Home Depot. You deserve a speed boat, a new Camaro and so many other things, but thanks for settling for Home Depot and me.

2010-09-17T10:36:00.000-04:00

CLOUDS WITH SILVER LININGS

So often the gifts we get come wrapped up in a shoddy disguise, so that a careless person might not recognize them for what they are.

In the past few weeks, while I have gone through the doctor visits, the surgery on my face wherein the kindly surgeon removed a basal skin cancer tumor and a goodly chunk of tissue, and my self-imposed sequestering due to my funny looking face, I have been marveling at the gifts I have been given.

Have you ever gone through a period of time when you just didn't want to have to do anything outside your front door? I mean, even things that you enjoy and signed up for? You don't want to quit them entirely, but you just wish you could have a guilt-free break? Well, I am taking a guilt-free (well, as guilt-free as an Italian Catholic can ever be) break. From my little part-time job of cleaning the church, from the choir, from the other ministry meetings, and from running the roads altogether. And last Sunday, still with a monstrous bandage, I stayed home from mass and a dear friend brought Communion to me at home.

Ah, peace and tranquility. And naps, including the option of going back to bed in the morning after my son leaves for school. I am seven days post-op and hoping to milk this for seven more. Am I terrible? Maybe so, but I have dutifully refrained from my generation's mantra of "if it feels good, do it", for lo some forty-plus years. Now I am finally taking a sip of the nectar of self-indulgence. Yummy. But also very interesting when you consider that we all have projects and interests that usually we neglect because we don't have time to do them.

A couple of weeks ago I wrote about the great crab apple escapade. I had washed them up really well due to this gray stuff that gets all over rooftops, sides of houses and tree fruit. Its just a film of dark patches, but it was on the crab apples. So I washed and rubbed them in water, vinegar, peroxide and more water and sealed them up in gallon bag and refrigerated them. Well, I didn't have time to process them before my surgery but a few days ago I did. See?

The Ball Blue Book was my mom's (from about the time I was in high school).


It is as delicious as it is pretty.

I also picked about two dozen granny smith apples off my little tree in the back yard, and baked a pie with some of them. And yesterday, we took on the onerous job of cutting out all the coupons that have been piling up all summer from the Sunday papers. That job was a natural offshoot of the primary job of going through things that had built up in the bookcase I keep in the kitchen.

Other good things have happened in the kitchen this past week. I straightened and organized my pantry closet and my freezer. We have had the big freezer unplugged all summer and have been disciplining ourselves to only buy and keep what would fit into the one that is part of the refrigerator.

Where I live, they raise the electricity rates in the summer to capitalize on people using their air conditioning, so therefore it makes sense not to keep a freezer running out in the hot garage during this time. When they lower the rates on October 1st, I will probably stock up some meats from the farm. They are from organically raised, free-range, pasture-fed stock. More expensive than the supermarket stuff, but, hey I don't gamble, smoke, go to the beauty salon or spend much on my wardrobe, so I think it's OK.

Now with staying out of the stores and having the food organized, I have been putting together lots of good meals and treats with what's on hand. Its good to use up your stuff a couple of times a year.

Yesterday, for example, there were five people here around lunchtime, so I whipped up a smoothie from this mix/frozen fruit pack I had gotten on sale awhile back. I mixed a raw farm egg in with that and some almond milk. They didn't know about the egg, so don't say anything. Then I pulled out a container of chili that I had frozen last July, made with my garden tomatoes and peppers. I heated that up, and made a green salad, and that was lunch.

I had been saving this frozen package of homemade pasta that I had bought from the mom and pop Italian store when I visited back home last month. So last night I boiled that up and served it with a "sauce" I made from diced bacon pieces, olive oil, onions, garlic, some pieces of fresh broccoli and carrots all sauteed together, to which I added basil, oregano, parsley, hot pepper flakes, shredded mozzarella and grated locatelli cheese. Another tossed salad accompanied that, and we called it supper.

Now today after blogging, I plan to start filling up some giveaway bags. Ever since watching a couple shows on TV about people hoarding so much stuff in their homes that they become unable to function, I have become more motivated to really look around this place and see the clutter that I've become used to "not seeing". The beginning of fall is a great time to take stock of everything, isn't it? The weather is turning cooler, we make the transition to warmer clothes, we want to change the decor and clean things up outside, and prepare the garden beds for winter. It is the perfect time now to purge everything that needs it, and then clean and polish up the house and furnishings for our wonderful holidays and cozy time indoors.

So, in conclusion, I do not wish a patch of skin cancer on you, but I do hope you will make the most of everything that comes your way, realizing that "... we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to [his] purpose." I hope that is you, my friend.

The best thing to come out of all of this, I have saved for last. I have never been one to bask in the sun, but I am fair skinned and have had a couple of bad sunburns in the past. That's all it takes, apparently. The sun is wonderful and what we need to do is to build up our exposure to it in small increments day by day, allowing ourselves to have a light tan. No extremes, no "baking" out there, and judiciously using protective hats and clothing, which in itself is another reason for modest dressing!

I say all this to explain that skin cancer was not on my radar. Once this happened, it caused me to laser focus on someone very precious to me who does sunbathe, has spent a fair amount of time in tanning booths, and very little time at the doctor's since she does not have health insurance. Well, I insisted she go to the dermatologist because she also has a lot of moles. He didn't charge much and I was happy to pay for it for her. Well, it turns out she has a mole on the side of her breast which the doctor says has to come off. He stared at that thing for the longest time and said, "I don't think it's malignant, but when I have to scrutinize something that long to convince myself that it's not, then it needs to come off". This is really scary because he had just finished telling us about a girl he is treating whose melanoma has spread into her lymph nodes. She is 16 years old! May Jesus have mercy!

So it's off to the plastic surgeon. Please pray with me that this is something that will also turn out for the good, that it will not be malignant, but will make this dear person wake up to a lot of things in her own life that need to be purged or that need to be spruced up!

Here ends the tale of the basal skin cancer cells with silver linings, but I urge you to go for the gold and take care of yourself and your skin!

2010-09-02T00:19:00.000-04:00

A WORD OR TWO BEFORE THE "BIG BLOW"

I am trying to think of everything that I might possibly need to do before tomorrow night when Hurricane Earl passes by. Right now, he is indicating that he'll keep his distance like a gentleman, but you never know what might happen in the next 24 hours. So I have gone into full battle mode with my preparations. We are stocked up on non-perishable food, alternate lighting supplies, a generator, extra gas for it, a full can of propane for the grill, batteries, water storage and my Berkey light (a water filter so effective that you could put pond water in it and come out with absolutely pristine drinking water), paper plates, cups, towels, flatware, plastic bags, cars all gassed up, supplies for the pets, first-aid and meds. I always go way overboard and you might ask yourself why.

Why, indeed! I assure you, the most compelling reasons are that I am rather obsessive-compulsive, eccentric, and always up for a little drama, and that is the plain truth. And you just never know if and when the real deal may befall us. And then we'll be ready to shelter and care for the seven of us, and maybe even be a benefit to our neighbors. You see, at the end of our little nub of a neighborhood sit we on a little mound that is 18 feet above sea level. Not impressive in the least until you consider that pretty much everything else in town is either at sea level or below (for real). So that means that unless we are directly hit by a catastrophic hurricane, we will not flood; however, it also means that we become an island. Nobody in, nobody out. Unless we float.

Is it mere coincidence that we also have a canoe and two little rubber boats? Well, what do you think? But what we would most likely do is stay put for awhile, and carry on till things normalize or the Lord comes back. And I wouldn't be surprised to see either of those two things occur within about a week.

Now, tomorrow, I plan to scrub the bathtubs really well and before bed, I will fill them with water, which is standard practice whenever we are facing one of these storms. That way, you at least have some washing up water you can access if the power fails long enough for us to lose water pressure in the faucets. I also need to run a bunch of canning jars through the dishwasher so that they can be accessed in the unfortunate even of needing to cook up and can a bunch of food before it spoils. Also, I will want to vacuum everywhere and make sure everything else that can and should be laundered is done and dried before the storm hits. And of course dishes done and kitchen cleaned for the night, early.

I made this little rule up because about ten years ago, I had made an enormous turkey dinner the night that a hurricane hit us, and was forced to greet the newly imposed stone age with a kitchen full of dirty dishes, and a washer and dryer full of wet and mostly wet clothes, respectively. I also had a wallet that was, lets just say, below sea level itself, and a houseful of highly spirited children, five of my own and two that were left in my care for about ten days. Needless to say, the day after the hurricane was hot, sweaty, exhausting and seemed to last for about two years! I was very discouraged, but out of that dark pit, vowed like Scarlet O'Hara digging through the dirt for that spare potato, that ah would nevah be in that position again!!

So yeah, kids grow up and so did I, but just a bit. I now know enough to get things in order ahead of time, keep the menu a bit more tame tomorrow, and just simply give myself permission to relax for the duration. But I do hope we get a bit of a show from Mother Nature and Mr. Earl, though I hope everyone on the east coast is kept under God's protection, no matter what.

After that, I hope we can get down to business and break out the fall decorations without breaking into a sweat. Happy September!

2010-08-27T00:11:00.001-04:00

A BOUNTEOUS SUMMER - A BEAUTIFUL WAY TO LIVE


Summer Kitchen - Buy at Allposters.com

Here we are, rounding the last corner of summer, in order to head straightway towards fall. My bean patch went wild with growth all summer but did not produce a single bean until this week. Yesterday I picked a pound. Kind of reminds me of the Yankees, who always seem to not take things seriously until they are almost done for, but who suddenly wake up and begin to produce at the next to last minute. Thus, the beans may end up the pennant winners of my garden this year. We'll see.

And kind of like me, who decides a half hour past my bedtime to begin a new post. Here I sit, looking like the last rose of summer and tired as August's last onion, but feeling exceedingly grateful for all my blessings. And grateful for all of yours, whether or not you know about them. The fact is, if I have the time, electricity, and ability to sit and write this, and you have a way, and the ability to read this, then I would say we are both blessed, wouldn't you? The Internet is the oracle, bringing much of what has ever been known or discovered along with all of our stories right into all our homes, and we are just the happy go lucky recipients of all of it. Wow!

But tonight I am also thankful for some pretty good lab results, and (not necessarily in the correct order) for my four cats, the dog, the faithful high school sweetheart who is still hanging around my living room just as he first did in 1970 when I was fresh out of tenth grade, for my beautiful children, and for all the work I have to do. Especially tonight, I am thankful for the work.

Tonight I rejoice that tomorrow there are floors to be swept and mopped, bathrooms to be cleaned, furniture to be dusted, and a front porch to be swept. I know that with time, soap, water, a few tools and my effort, I can make this place shine and sparkle for the weekend. Some people have no home, some are grieving, some are laying weak and still in a hospital bed, so many are alone, but I am blessed to have a home, a family, and the physical ability to work every bit as hard as I could when I was twenty. Probably more so, considering what a little princess I was back then! Yeesh!

And isn't it wonderful how God can still change and grow us no matter how old we get? For instance, I used to be so overwhelmed with knowing that I could not finish all my work or projects, so in a sense, I was never really done at the end of the day, or ever. So I would just work myself all up into a tizzy or else just kind of drop out and not attempt much of anything. Finally, I am realizing that life is a process and when we show up for it every day and give things a good try, then we have been successful.

So I think that we should be happy with ourselves when we know we've tried our best, and when we haven't, we should just ask God to help us be better, and then forgive ourselves and start again in the morning. So in the morning, I hope to get up early enough to make my 30 minute Irish oatmeal, load it up with berries and walnuts, a dab of butter, some milk and a spoonful of maple syrup, and delight myself in the awesomeness of it all. Then I'll head off to clean the church, and return to clean the domestic church, our house.

And then of course, there are the late summer food chores to be undertaken. I have a huge zucchini squash still sitting on the counter, half of which I might cook and mash with butter and have for lunch along with some leftover rotisserie chicken and cold Bartlett pears, ripe to perfection at this moment. Now the other half of the squash will make a healthy batch of sweet zucchini bread, some to have at tomorrow's afternoon coffee break, and some to freeze.

I also have a bag full of crabapples, which I spied in the large yard surrounding an old farmhouse. Because I am a shameless peasant, and my friend JoAnn, another shameless peasant, was with me in the car (we had just come back from getting some eggs from a farm down the road), I backed up, pulled into the driveway, knocked on the door and asked the lovely lady who answered it if she'd mind me picking a few crab apples. She seemed surprised and said, "Are those any good to eat?"

"They might make some good jelly", I weakly responded, as if I wasn't sure myself. As if!! I simply did not want to seem too enthusiastic, lest she decide to hoard them for herself and take up jelly-making on the spot. I should not have worried about that, however. It turns out Renee (she was generous enough to offer her name along with the crab apples) has a real job and a real career doing some kind of social work at the children's hospital and thus probably hasn't the time to make jelly, and certainly neither the time nor inclination to drive around spying out lonely fruit in the yards of strangers, like some people I know.

So Jo and I jumped at the chance. I took the egg cartons out of the plastic bag they were in, and used that for the crab apples. As we were finishing, JoAnn mused as how she would have loved it if the lady had a fig tree too, for that is what she truly had a hankering for: ripe figs. Well, I thought this was rather nervy of her to go wishing for something else for free when here we already were getting something for free, and for figs of all things! Perhaps I should just wish for a money tree, then, hmm? But all I said was, "Yeah, uh-huh".

Well, guess what? As we came back to the car in the driveway, what should we behold, but a large fig tree!
I should have guessed as much, because those old farmsteads pretty much had everything but a super Walmart growing around them back in the day. Well, JoAnn got really excited, and all I said was, "Well that is wonderful, Jo-jo, and when you knock on the door to thank Renee for the crab apples, you can ask her if you can a have a couple of figs". And she did!

And Renee said, "Why sure! You can have all you want because we don't eat them at all!" What a doll. God sure does make some cool people.

And that is just another example of how ridiculously blessed we are and most of the time we forget to notice. Because wasn't He simply awesome to plant that hankering in my friend's head probably exactly 120 years after He planted the fig tree right where she could see it a century or so later? Well, I'm sure I don't have to tell you that JoAnn was effusive in her thanks, but I just smiled, and all I said to Renee was, "Do you have a bag, then?"

2010-08-17T21:05:00.000-04:00

THE LANGUOR BEFORE THE LETTING GO


Our cousin's pond, upstate NY

Summer is rich, heavy, heady and full of herself, but now, almost imperceptibly, she is beginning to go to seed. Sort of like women of a certain age when they are just past the height of their female prowess, but not quite ready to quit the party and go home. Oh, sort of like this one, I suppose................................................


Yours truly in front of the courthouse at Arlington, VT.

Our trip up north was everything I needed it to be, that is, it was everything. The buildings, the mountains, the meadows, the family, friends and food, the otherness of the place were fresh rain on my arid soul.

There stood the mountains all around us, wise and cloaked with deep green vestments, standing solemn and sober as judges, bearing upon their shoulders the weighty judgments of the sky and clouds.

Not to be outdone by their unshakable elder brothers, the meadow flowers perfectly expressed so many of the scriptures which speak of the small and weak things being chosen to lead, the humble who shall be exalted, as indeed I will exalt them here, although fittingly, in small pictures:

And here they adorn the ancient feet of a shagbark hickory tree.

Blessed are the meek, for they shall inherit the earth.

Last, but certainly not least, was the joy I got in visiting with so many of the relatives and friends. From the matriarch of my husband's family, Aunt Erna (age 93), to my brother, a whole passel of cousins, and childhood and church friends, there was no shortage of sweet fellowship.Our many thanks to our hostess, Merridy. We love you!

We are back home now, the party is over, and we are back to meet the remaining heat head-on, as well as doctor appointments, bills to pay, back to school and all the reality of the grown-up world. I had my birthday up home, and if you would really like to know how I felt about getting one more year older, and with it all the challenges and uncertainty of life, well this picture should suffice................

It was homemade hot-fudge ice cream cake, after all.

2010-08-03T01:55:00.000-04:00

PHOTOS OF DELIGHTFUL YOUNG PEOPLE CELEBRATING THEIR CONTRABAND SEEM TO BE ALL OVER MY COMPUTER. WHY IS THAT? I THINK I RECOGNIZE ONE PERSON, AND HE IS 21. THANK GOD.

Also, I do not recognize any of the homes in which said photos were taken. Not my house, nor the homes of any of my friends. Thank God, again. Why am I posting this picture? I really do not know, except that staying up too late is conducive to posting dubious stuff on the Internet.

But let's examine what is going on here a bit, because it is interesting. Firstly, we can assume that someone, or ones who have access to my computer, was at this party (and many others, judging by the many happy group shots I find interspersed with pictures of my garden or my applesauce, or images of fine art I have pilfered from Allposters.com).

So yes, obviously there are young people of my very close acquaintance who like to indulge in this kind of behavior. Perhaps I shouldn't be admitting this to the outside world. I don't care, I am outing them officially, right here on my ladies' blog. And revealing something of my life as well. You had to know it was not all pickles.

Here is the pathetic part: just look at the bright, young faces, full of joy and camaraderie and Budweiser beer.
It seems these are the only times they feel truly alive and happy. Because, trust me, most of the time when I see young people, they just look kind of dull and uncomfortable. Bored. Sad. Surly. What is so unnatural about life today that makes most people, not just young ones, so downright miserable with reality that they cannot stand to be in it?

Weirder still, is the way they still all look so fresh and innocent. It is as if they are saying, "Hey, look at us! Isn't it great?? We all just finished playing tag and having our milk and cookies, and now its time to risk arrest and a car accident!! In truth, it wasn't that long ago that they were big fans of Sponge Bob and pajamas with feet.

And they look this way, because in a sense, they are still innocent, at least of the knowledge of the long term effects of their decisions, made in careless youth.

But as the saying goes, "Sin in haste, repent in leisure".

I am really hoping that kids are just going through a phase and they will find their balance and go on to live productive, meaningful lives. Am I taking these pictures too seriously? I happen to know that some of the people who read this blog will think so, and some will be absolutely appalled, at them and also at me, for writing about this calmly and not going absolutely berserk on my young people. Well, I have. It helped some.

Some things I cannot prevent so I must detach where that is appropriate, and suffer where it is not. But I can make sure that my refrigerator continues to stay out of the party pictures, and in fact, I can keep the pictures off my computer, though I cannot keep revelers out of my heart. So I will continue to admonish, set firm boundaries, and pray for them. Please pray for them, too, and for me.

2010-08-01T02:08:00.001-04:00

AUGUST COMETH


Late Summer Grazing Late Summer Grazing Late Summer Grazing Available at: Gudmundsen Fine Art Studio

As the days become sodden with the sweet, syrupy warmth of full-on summer, life, even with air conditioning, melts into slow-motion. Every aspect of what I thought I understood is now a slightly out-of-focus, sun-drenched dream. Again.

For the past few years, I have worked from early spring to right about now in a fast-paced, heavy workloaded, deadline driven job, which pushes, pushes, pushes us workers right up until the last day when, poof, the work is over, all-at-once, and we are swept out of there with a sincere thank-you and a "here's your hat, what's your hurry, please remember to leave your badge at the front desk" boot to the butt.

We inevitably wander, somewhat disoriented, out into the blinding sun and heat of the parking lot, which at this time of year resembles the surface of the planet Mercury, struggling to breathe in and spout out a few parting words to our colleagues, saying that we look forward to seeing each other again next spring. Well, we do want to see each other again, but more than one heart holds the hope that the reunion will occur in a grand hotel ballroom that one of us has somehow managed to become rich enough to rent out for the entire, catered evening. I, for one, harbor the hope that my great wit and timeless beauty have somehow landed me some kind of meaningful, lucrative life without ever having had to learn Excel.

Oh, my, but it's time to get out of the sun and into the air-conditioned car to head back home.

And once there, I am no longer the accurate, effectively working bearer of the paycheck. It turns out that family folks and other folks now see me for what I am: heat waves coming up through the blacktop. Just when I thought I had transformed myself into a refreshing pool of water, it turns out I am a mirage. I step back into my hidden world, and become invisible.

But home is so important to me. It is there that I get a chance to really think about things, to pursue my eccentric little projects, and to seek my refuge. I am cleaning out shelves and drawers and going through neglected paperwork. Sounds like drudgery but it is so rewarding to take stock of things and put the house to rights.

Also, there has been a good bit of produce to deal with from the garden. I have made salsa, gazpacho, tons of spaghetti sauce, and am currently making some crock pickles, which are called cinnamon bark or ripe cucumber pickles. These will be especially good in cooler weather when we eat heavier, oven-cooked meals and want a little accompaniment that is sweet and tangy to go with the meal. I have made some dill refrigerator pickles and want to make some regular bread and butter pickles with cucumbers and some with zucchini, as well. And more stuffed zucchini. And zucchini bread. Seeing a pattern here?

I also have a dozen or so quarts of various fruit cordials "cooking". They will be done around the first of October.

Hay Wagon
Haywagon
Available at:
Gudmundsen Fine Art Studio

Now don't think that all I've done is work, because I have already done a fair share of lolling around the house, too, and floating and gabbing away in my friend JoAnn's pool. Definitely need a little more of that this coming week. She lives right across the street so it is easy to bop on over.

Above all else, it is time for some spiritual housekeeping. I feel as though I have been flying by the seat of my pants and have neglected "the weightier matters". Time to take some spiritual rest and nourishment in the Word and in prayer. This is very important for all of us, either when we have been so busy with work or have taken a big vacation to the world, which summer can sometimes be.

It is August. A time when the U.S. government would virtually close up shop in days gone by. Sensible days gone by. Time to come in out of the hot sun and take a siesta. Have a glass of sweet tea or lemonade. Sit on the porch after supper and watch the fireflies come out. Give yourself time to think. Rich, robust August. A time to take a quieter path.

2010-06-30T23:00:00.001-04:00

EHINACEA, ET AL

Those are echinacea flowers, or straw flowers. Yes you consume this plant to ward off colds, and yes it is growing in one of my front flower beds. The vegetable gardens, like my children, have gone absolutely wild and seem to be all the better for it. My Three Sisters Garden of corn, beans and squash is just as delighted to be here as if an old Indian squaw had planted them instead of this old white squaw.

What I try to do is to make the soil as rich as possible, snuggle the plants and seeds in there all nice and cozily, and then let them grow as they will, creating their own barrier against weeds as they spread shade and crowd them out. And since I share the yard with a beagle and two of the cats, I have various little plots spread about, and fenced in. So here is a tour of my somewhat mixed up but (I think) lovely, growing things...

This is a side view of the three sisters, along with their friends, the heirloom tomatoes (Juliet, Ox Heart, Abe Lincoln and one or two others whose names escape me right now), basil, Italian parsley, and green peppers.

Granny Smith Apple Tree:

The pic above is another little garden, full to overflowing with two tomato plants (also heirlooms from last year) that volunteered to grow from seed this year, pickling cucumbers, tabasco peppers and chili peppers. The cucumbers will not be restrained and are overtaking their boundaries, reaching out to a volunteer pumpkin (or maybe its some other squash) growing just outside the plot, and threatening to mix it up with another pumpkin and some cantaloupes, fenced in a few feet away. I will show it to you now, and I think you can click on these.

And now, for some of the flowers....

And me, finally taking a bit of Sunday rest. To be continued....

2010-06-17T23:42:00.001-04:00

DON'T BE SIDELINED BY DISAPPOINTMENT

Disappointment surely comes to all the living, sometimes quite often, indeed. But I find it helpful to acknowledge the feeling, allow myself to experience a bit of grief, and then with God's help to get the heck out of there. Either I give some thought to various ways I might redeem the situation, or if its something that cannot be fixed, I start looking ahead in different directions and seek out new opportunities.

Sometimes something we thought was coming to us does not come after all. Plans get canceled, opportunities are lost through a misunderstanding, people do not do or simply cannot be what we want them to do or be.
Hope is such a tenuous, fragile thing, and so easily dashed, isn't it?

And if we're not careful to guard against it, we might be embarrassed and take ourselves to task for being so foolish as to believe in something that didn't materialize for us. I would urge that we do not berate ourselves this way, lest we become cynical, bitter or despairing. To live in those attitudes is to live less and less.

That is why we must pass through each denizen of disappointment in a brisk walk and not loiter. It is the seedy part of town and though we cannot avoid passing through it from time to time, yet we must never stop long enough to get stuck there. Wallowing in the hurt will eventually bind us into a type of mental and emotional slavery. Better to keep our eyes fixed on what lies ahead, just beyond our disappointment, and walk steadily on.

Besides, sometimes when things don't go our way, there are cosmic though perhaps, presently hidden reasons why things fell through. Things happened this way for our benefit. If you love the Lord, or are at least open to the possibility of relationship with Him, you can be sure that He has a perfect plan for you, "for I know the plans I have for you", says the Lord, "plans for a future and a hope". And lastly, remember that "all things work together for good to them that love God and are called according to His purpose".

Sometimes God withholds the good from you, in order that He may give you the best. I wish you the best tonight and I pray that you will wake up tomorrow, ready once again to say yes to all the possibilities.

2010-06-15T01:39:00.001-04:00

A Nap in the Afternoon

Lullaby, by Trisha Romance

Babies aren't the only ones who need them. Being home and having the opportunity to rest for a bit during the hottest part of the day is one of the true joys of life - in fact it makes life civilized. I am very proud and grateful to be an American but am I the only one of us who is not ashamed of saying that I sometimes indulge myself in a bit of rest? I am not a lazy person, but after a respectable amount of work, I sometimes need to recharge. But that is considered shameful, isn't it?

What is up with our incessant drive to do more, produce more, take on more and more volunteer work, (and make sure we brag about it) and push ourselves on and on until somebody ends up with a stress-induced autoimmune disease, or carpel tunnel syndrome, or gets involved in an accident?

I attended a day of discernment at our church on Saturday, in which we candidates for pastoral council were to meet with each other, discuss many issues and then vote for who we thought the Lord would have us pick for the council. Needless to say, I was not elected, and for that I am both slightly disappointed, but also massively relieved, since its good to know oneself well enough to know one is not a leader.

But as usual, two of the people elected were mothers of young children, one with a high stakes third shift job in another city and who has a military husband who is often away on deployment. I do not know the other one's employment status, but I do know she has very young children, and she is involved in other ministries in the church. So I guess this would be the perfect time for the Lord to remind me that His thoughts are not my thoughts and His ways are not my ways, because if the Lord's top choice for young mothers is for them to be away from their children as much as possible, or distracted with a whole lot going on outside the home, then I have misunderstood much of what I have read in His Word.

Personally, I voted for the men. Contrary to the wisdom of the "Goddess", I think men are absolutely wonderful creatures who make really good leaders, since they are able to make hard decisions without sentimentality and since they tend to see the forest in spite of all the sappy trees. Really. Since this is my blog I will venture out here and say that, to me, younger women have much more important and noble things to do than to get involved with the rat race of the world, and older women who get themselves into positions of power tend to get kind of psycho. Even their physical appearance becomes an unsettling reflection of the weirdness within.....

And their opinion of themselves can become a bit unhinged. Do you remember when Nancy Pelosi decided that what the Muslim world needed was a visit from her, whereupon this grandmother took herself to see the heads of Islamic states (can we say socially conservative?) with her skirt hiked up like this.....

I have no doubt that they were very impressed. What was she thinking? Was she trying to seduce them? To be fair, I am no fan of Sarah Palin, either. She sacrificed a lot to get onto the national stage, including her family's privacy and dignity.

I am confused about a lot of this so-called progress. It must be that there is nothing wrong with this brave new world for women, and the constant emasculation and bashing of males, the power wielding old ladies wearing extreme facelifts and tight miniskirts, kids raised by hirelings or else raising themselves, and maniacal busyness.

I know what to do. After lunch I will take a wee nap, then make myself a cup of tea. Perhaps that will help me to make better sense of things then.

2010-06-13T10:01:00.001-04:00

In the beginning...

Here is a shot of some of the things I have growing in the backyard. I am going to put in some more corn in that nearest row, where the first batch didn't come up so well. I need to take that straw from last year and break it up to mulch around the plants.

Hoping to get some more pics of the roses and flower beds, and also the vegetables as they, Lord willing, grow and progress their way to the table. I am using my basil, oregano, parsley and mint right now, and expect I might harvest some zucchini and cukes in the near future.

Sometimes the plants that show so much promise, that seem to do so well at first, meet with (natural) disaster, or else, as used to be the case quite often, my husband mows them down (on accident, I'm told). Hence, the fencing around everything. There to keep the dog and cats out (I tell him).

People are like plants. The flash and dazzle type are often the ones that disappoint us sooner or later (and usually sooner). And the ones that don't seem too impressive at first are often those who bear the most fruit. Never write someone off. I learned that a long time ago as a child, when I used to be singled out as the one who wasn't allowed to be in the company of others' children, considered as some sort of bad seed, I guess.

I've learned that in the growing season, it is often the seed that sprouts by itself, without being planted but rather just comes up from some remnant of the previous season, that proves to be the hardiest and most fruitful of all. It is usually found in some odd location where you don't particularly want it, but it deserves its berth because it is after all, a volunteer. It says, "This place perfectly suits me and I am thriving here. Stand back and watch me prove myself to you!" If you can keep others from mowing it down, you'll most likely get a lot of pleasant fruit from it. I have had pumpkins, cantaloupes and tomatoes galore from such volunteers. Something worth thinking about when one summarily dismisses another soul whom God has loved into existence.

Some more pics of the place....

2010-05-19T06:35:00.000-04:00

CATCHING UP

I have not had the time, nor frame of mind to write lately. As some of you know, each spring I leave the confines of the castle, cross the moat and go to a seasonal job scoring essay portions of standardized tests given to young folks. Though I've been on a break for the last week or so, I have been very busy at home with spring chores and working outside.

Cleaning out garden beds, planting, trimming and related activities have joined the usual tasks of housework, shopping, cooking, baking, keeping the peace, starting some trouble myself, dealing with the aftermath of that, church, cleaning the church, choir, talking to teachers about progress reports, or the lack of progress, and being a listening ear to troubled family members and friends. Its usually me bothering them, so its only fair to take my turn now. Oh yes, and there was a medical emergency in the family last week. Almost forgot that one, and praise God, it turned out well. And a birthday dinner for 12 the other night.

I confess I have been doing a little reading, a little research, and watching a few detective shows. I was a detective once, and will always be nosy, but its safer to watch other, more attractive people solve mysteries on tv these days.

So its back to work scoring schoolwork this morning, to get a little rest. We have had plenty of rain lately so our gardens are looking really good, thank God, so I guess I can tear myself away from them for a few hours and go earn some money. I certainly have spent enough lately.

Have I expressed lately how much I love this life I have fashioned? I feel like I have won the lottery this morning. We are together, stuff is pretty much paid for, and birds are singing outside. Have a good day y'all.

2010-04-20T20:09:00.001-04:00

ON HEDGEROWS AND OTHER BOUNDARIES
I was commenting on Lady Lydia's blog, Homeliving.blogspot.com, about how, in perusing information on establishing a more natural back yard, I discovered information on England's hedgerows and the keen interest many people have in preserving them. I went back and found some basic information about them at the website of the borough of Bexley, London, England, from which this illustration and the following information were taken:

Hedgerows are historical living boundary demarcations, made up of small trees, shrubs and climbers. They act as essential wildlife corridors

Apart from forming the traditional aesthetic character of the English landscape, they also offer protection from winds, pollution, noise and trespass and afford privacy. Hedgerows prevent soil erosion and water run off, "green up" unsightly urban areas, provide verdant backdrops to developments and cover or prevent graffiti on walls

Hedgerows support a myriad of species including nesting and feeding hedgerow birds such as whitethroats and chaffinches, bats, butterflies, moths, bees and other insects such as ladybirds, beetles and lacewings. They afford warmth, protection and shelter for small mammals such as dormice and rabbits and their predators, hibernating reptiles (slow worms, grass snakes and lizards) and amphibians (toads and frogs)

Bats, also, use hedgerows as safe travel routes between roosting and feeding sites
Hedgerows provide colour in the spring, flowers and nectar in the summer and berries/fruit in the autumn
"Ancient" hedgerows, which tend to support the greatest diversity of plants and animals, are defined by the UK BAP as "those which were in existence mainly between 1720 and 1840 in Britain"
"Species-rich" hedgerows may be taken as those containing five or more native woody species on average in a thirty metre length or those with fewer woody species but a rich basal flora of herbaceous plants.

I have stated that I have begun to establish a natural boundary (a hedgerow of sorts) along the back width of my yard to encourage a more diverse, and ecologically sound outdoor space, and to add some beauty and privacy, too.

I have come, perhaps rather late in life, to respect and appreciate boundaries. The natural one around my yard is also fortified by a six foot wooden stockade fence. It adds structure and precise definition to the boundaries of our land. That is a primary function of boundaries - to define.

They define where what is mine ends and where what is yours begin, and keep many a mistake from happening. Boundaries protect the vulnerable who reside within them (toddlers and puppy dogs come to mind). They establish the playing field, which gives rise to the orderly rules of play.

I remember Nicky Gumble, the Anglican priest who founded the Alpha course (a very fine Christian formation program) talking about his unfortunate attempt to sub for a tardy referee at his children's football (soccer) game. Since he didn't know the precise boundaries of the field and wasn't well acquainted with the rules of the game, chaos ensued. Children were upset and getting hurt and things quickly began to get out of control. In the nick of time, the real ref showed up, halted play, and quickly produced a piece of chalk with which he marked off the edges of the playing field. After this most important step, he proceeded to resume play and enforced the rules of the game, much to the relief and gratitude of children and parents alike.

The Lord God has set out His boundaries for us, and happy we are if we safely stay within them. He has set them for our salvation and that we may have life abundant on this earth. The children in the misbegotten soccer game were not having fun when there were no rules nor discernible lines drawn, but instead were getting upset and even injured. When the referee came and defined the borders and the rules (which are in and of themselves boundaries), the little players began to relax and enjoy themselves again.

I am afraid that as the lines of societal propriety have been crossed, and the ancient hedgerows of faith and purity have been breached and assaulted to their near destruction, we are now suffering the injuries and dismay that such demonic violence has wrought. Have we not lost our way, and become impoverished madmen, wandering into the paths of destruction? We hear blasphemy, the most explicit sexual talk, cruelty and depravity spew forth from the television set, and from our own loved ones, and barely wince or make protest. In fact, God help us, those terrible things have begun to come from our own lips. Think of what you say casually now, thing which you probably gasped at or held in contempt 20 years ago.

It was in the late 80's when, one Sunday, our pastor asked during a sermon, whether anyone had seen an important, recent ball game. He obviously wanted to tie what happened to the home team into the point of his sermon. So he asked the congregation. A pre-teen boy raised his hand at the back of the church. When asked by the pastor what had happened to our team, the boy loudly replied to the entire congregation,
"They got their butt whipped."

An involuntary gasp came from the congregation as the term the boy had used "got their butt whipped" was not in general usage in polite society and was considered vulgar and crass. I know it seems hard to believe now, but it was. It just stuck out there, like the proverbial sore thumb. Also everyone immediately felt embarrassed for our pastor who now had to respond and we also felt somewhat aghast about the parents, realizing that the child was probably used to hearing this kind of talk at home as a matter of course.

Well now the vast majority of us use this term like honey dripping off the hive, and consider it a mild euphemism for what is normally expressed. I don't believe many pastors themselves would even notice anything amiss if they themselves used expressions like this in their own sermons. And in fact, this little vignette is but the mildest of examples of the kind of boundary busting that has and is now occurring in our society and our personal lives.

To be continued.....

2010-04-18T03:03:00.001-04:00

MAKING THE BEST OF THINGS MAKES ALL THINGS BETTER

I had been very grumpy today, whining and complaining about how I wanted to start being a little selfish, and do some of the same things I see other people doing. Especially people who are my age, not to mention the majority of younger folks. Things like, go on trips, buy jewelry, get manicures and pedicures and the like. But after I had spouted off about all that, I felt bad inside. Because I know that I would have to sweep my young adults, my father-in-law, and the animals out of my life in order to do all those things. And then we could downsize. And stare at each other and the four walls. Or I could go out there and get a career!

Wow, what was I thinking?? None of that appeals to me. Especially getting rid of everybody. True, I do want my children to become productive members of society with their own families, and while they are here at home, to help out more and make better choices, but do I want to boot them out onto the sidewalk? No, I really do not. And Grandpa. He is doing very well physically now, but he does not wish to return to his home in another state, because he will be terribly lonely. Do I want to pack him off to stay by himself and be lonely? No, I do not.

And these no-account animals. Do I wish that I would not have to step in hairball throw-up when I come downstairs in the morning, nor have the silly dog run in from the backyard and proceed to track mud all over the house? Of course I would. And I would not like to have to pay so much to keep them. But they are part of the family, and they bring us joy and entertainment, and I would never want something bad to happen to them, just so that I can lessen my work, or go get my hair done professionally.

In fact tonight I thought the little one (kitty cat) had somehow gotten outside and was lost. This is when my ungrateful attitude came back to haunt me. I began to pray earnestly that I would find her, and after about 20 minutes of looking high and low, inside and out, I realized that she was curled up on one of the kitchen chairs, obscured by the table cloth. Oh, I was so happy and thankful. And that led me to be thankful for my husband and children, the rest of the family, my home and all the good things in my life. And thankful for all of the bad things that have not happened to us.

Tomorrow is our youngest child's confirmation day. I am so grateful that he and the others have been brought up in the Lord. I am also so very thankful to our Lord for giving me Himself, that I might live forever with Him, and that I might continue to share the good news of Christ's love for us all.

So may we all lay our heads down on our pillows tonight, counting our myriad and marvelous blessings, and bask in the contentment of knowing that "all things work together for good, to them that love God, and are called according to His purpose.

2010-04-12T00:06:00.002-04:00

THE CULTURE OF HOME

The word "culture" comes from the Latin and its original meaning dealt with the cultivation of soil for crops. So it is natural to consider that the "culture" of the home is something one must "cultivate" in order for it to exist and thrive.

We who treasure our home lives have an instinctive knowledge of what it takes to make a house a home, and it has very little to do with ticket price, address or stainless steel appliances. Indeed, the art and let's face it, work of home-culture building is the one-of-a- kind molding that takes place in the space of the minutes and hours which comprise the years of our lives. Instead of hiring the landscaper to design and implement your garden space, you spend a dollar fifty for a small six-pack of impatiens and plant them lovingly in a little bed in the front yard, and watch them grow and multiply into a charming little mass of cheery color. Next year you add some marigolds or primroses. Or take a doily from a box of things that Grandma left behind, and place it with care on a less than beautiful table. Add a candle and a little figurine from the dollar store and you have given the eye something lovely and homey to rest upon. It just takes a little time and thought and very little money, but you have cultivated some warmth and beauty in your home. And if you keep that little area free of clutter and the table cleaned and polished, you have made a tiny patch of heaven, right here on earth!

People will naturally feel relaxed and comforted in your home if you build its culture, because they feel they have entered a place that is full of real life. The best hospitality is when someone goes to the trouble to invite you in, gives you a warm beverage and a cookie, and after drawing you comfortably into their little home circle, they kind of take the focus off you and let you become part of the real life that is happening around you. A lot of this came naturally in former times, and now we need to re-learn how to build our homes and build into the lives of others whom God puts in our path.

Back in ancient times, like when I was little, women used to drop in on each other and without fuss or thought start working alongside the hostess, snapping string beans, folding laundry or tending to the baby. It was all quite natural as well as quite helpful. There was a lot more visiting in those days because there was someone home to visit. These were the times that women would use to talk with each other about subjects light or profound as they worked along, and thus be satisfied to welcome their tired husbands home at the end of the day with a good meal, without feeling the need to extract a "discussion" from them, and rake them over the conversational coals. As a youngster, I loved to sit nearby and listen to the conversations, playing with my dolls and thinking about how great it was to live in the very center of the universe.

Perhaps it was easier then to think about the home as an important place to cultivate, guard and preserve. Back then, we didn't have quite as many entertainment distractions, nor any strident feminists dinging on our mothers' heads about how repressed they were. We also didn't have a clothes dryer, dishwasher, microwave oven, or even an electric can opener. In fact our can opener swung out from the wall by the kitchen door, and you just positioned the can up there and turned this crank until it opened. Best can opener I ever used! The pencil sharpener was mounted in another room, and that was the best and most efficient pencil sharpener ever! Funny.

So indeed, manual labor was kind of built into a housewife's day, but so was the satisfaction of being the builder of her home. No two houses were remotely alike, and each family had their own unique way of expressing themselves in their home. The Bernard's had Victorian furniture and a kitty cat clock in their kitchen whose eyes and tail moved to the rhythm of its tick-tock. Mr. Allen had a huge second yard that was a vegetable garden (complete with greenhouse and asparagus bed), my mother made the best coffee and baked wonderful pies and you could perform surgery in sanitary safety on Mrs. Reinhart's bathroom floor. My father had a workshop in his basement and his mother made wine every Fall in hers.

Perhaps people just need permission once again, to take pride in their home life - which is something different than making sure it is tricked out with all manner of granite and expensive flooring. It has more to do with a man taking joy and satisfaction in getting out there quickly to shovel and scrape that snow off the walk, or a wife touching up his no-iron shirt with, of all things, an iron. Or taking time to arrange some new things on the mantle and standing back to make sure they look just right. Or sitting down when you absolutely do not have time, and rocking that annoying child who is overtired and might just be coming down with something.

These and a million (at least) other small, routine, often repetitive deeds are what build the culture of home. They make memories, they bind hearts together, and forge the future. They keep the embers of love burning just enough to be able to once again be fanned into flame. They will give your children something to lean back on when they are out there someday as scared adults on the battlefields of life.

Right now, you just need to be there. Unplugged and interested. You need to be home.

2010-04-04T21:53:00.000-04:00

Surprised by joy would be an understatement.....

"But God shows his love for us in that while we were yet sinners Christ died for us." Romans 5:8

May this Easter season bring you special graces and all the joy of the Resurrection. May we all come to realize His presence and His concern for us and for His creation. May we be co-laborers with Him in all we say and do. And may the Lord bless us, in the Name of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit, Amen.

2010-04-03T00:19:00.000-04:00

LET US NOT LOSE HEART

Julien Dupré
(1851 - 1910)
The Reapers

“And let us not grow weary while doing good, for in due season we shall
reap if we do not lose heart” (Galatians 6:9 NKJV)

You know, sometimes you just pray and pray for God to change people's hearts or change a situation, or change you. But it doesn't happen. You look up to see the heavens are brass. I remember when my mother was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer, how I prayed. But as I prayed, I knew that I was praying against God's will. I do not know why I felt this, but I did. I prayed anyways. She lived for an uncharacteristically long time for her diagnosis - six and a half months, and perhaps this was just so we would come to a place where we would be able to let her go.

Then there are times, and I am not making this up, where I have felt the Lord prodding me to name my need, specifically, like when we had very little money and some big debt. I was doing dishes, alone in the kitchen and I was thinking about it. I felt that nudge to just say what I needed. So I figured it out in my head, and said, "Well, Lord, I think $20,000 would take care of absolutely everything."

The next week, a wealthy relative of mine just decided, unsolicited and out of the blue, to give me $20,000. I say, out of the blue, because that money just seemed to fall out of the sky, right from heaven.

But I think that sometimes I have prayed for years without answer for a thing, and persevered, just because the alternative is a dark place that I do not want to go - that place is called despair. And that is a place where we must never go, nor even entertain the thought for a millisecond. Not when we battle in prayer against true evil, or for things that are undeniably right.

There are other things, insurmountable things in my life, other people's choices and things I cannot control, and for those I must continue to learn acceptance. That is for the best, and it builds holiness. But there are also things which I cannot quit praying for while I live and those things mostly concern my children. And children in general.

And ironically, I feel burdened always to pray for those who are discouraged. When I speak to people or when I write, I always feel myself led to encourage someone, or make people laugh and feel light-hearted. Because I cannot stand for people to be overwhelmed with sadness or fear. Because despair, for me, is always at the door, right there, pushing, pushing. And I do not wish that for anybody.

So with God's help, indeed it is most likely God alone who does it, I push back. Sometimes hard, sometimes barely able to resist, but yet I am still standing. So I would just like to write tonight, on Good Friday, the night the Light of the World lay extinguished in the damp, cold blackness of the tomb, that we must keep on, keep on praying, keep on knocking, keep on seeking God. We will sow our prayers and patiently tend our little fields, the lives He has given us, and wait for the Easter Sunday of answered prayer. We will reap a bountiful harvest if we faint not. We invest our time and our hopes, as the farmer who sows and tends his field. Why? Because as Peter said, "Where else are we going, Lord? You alone have the words of eternal life".

He's the only game in town, as far as I'm concerned, and I've got to trust, and so do you, that even when we don't feel peace or feel we are about to be swallowed up by worry and anxiety, that He is there, He is not surprised, He loves us and He is working everything out for the best. And as regards our loved ones, He does not desire the death of any sinner, but rather that they all turn and be saved. So, therefore, we keep on praying that they'll find their way, along the narrow path lit by our prayers, to the doorstep of their very home.

2010-03-27T17:35:00.004-04:00

IF YOU RECALL SOME OF THE HAPPIEST DAYS OF YOUR LIFE BY WHAT KIND OF FOOD WAS SERVED, YOU MIGHT BE ITALIAN (AND ARE ALSO FAT, PROBABLY)

I remember Easter Sunday at my house, particularly when my Grandma Bernardina blew into town with two huge pans of lasagna or home made manicotti on the back seat of my uncle's Cadillac. If it was manicotti, her homemade sauce would be full of meatballs and sweet and hot Italian sausage. Accompanied by a big green salad. When the second course came, which was my mother's ham, sweet potatoes, asparagus, corn, apple sauce, black olives, rolls, and heaven knows what else, people would have to strain to make room for it. This would tick off my mother, who would twist up her face in that pained look she'd perfected, and exclaim with precision each year like she was reading from a Hollywood script, "Oh Ma, why do you always ruin my dinner?!"

My grandmother would never reply, but just sit there looking tres smug, maybe stuffing a roll into her mouth (she always did love bread, and while people were yelling at her to stop eating it, would lean in towards me and say with a big bread-eating grin, "Me like-a dis! Mmm!").

Of course, there would be wine and beer, as well as soda, but I never remember anybody being drunk. Except drunk on excess dinner. To add insult to injury, dinner was followed by Italian Easter pies, coffee and cookies, and finally fruit and nuts. And ye olde Easter basket. Sometimes they would have expresso in those little demitasse cups, explaining that it was very good for your digestion. Maybe that is why they lived through washing all those dishes afterwards.

Interesting that I can click off the menu like its remnants are still clinging to the back of my hand, but I do not remember any of my Easter outfits. Usually we were covering up our bright pastel dresses with winter coats anyways, because Easter comes way too early up north for one to make a definitive fashion statement. At least not a positive statement. Since one's Catholic church was usually in one's Catholic neighborhood, most of us walked to Mass in our finery, shivering but joyful just the same. I had the added pleasure (since I've always been insufferably curious about everything and everyone) of living a few houses away from the church, so I would get to check out all the people walking to and from Mass (since we had several each Sunday). I think my best friend, Arlene went to the 7:30. She always was dressed like a perfect doll. And the Bernard's next door (they anglicized their name from Bernardi, I think) went maybe at 9:15, so I would sometimes glance out the window and pass the time watching them and other ladies mince by in their high heels, with their outfits fitting beautifully because they were all wearing girdles back then. Never a vulgar jiggle or outline of cellulite beneath the dress. In fact, the first time I noticed a woman (older and a bit chunky) without the benefit of a foundation garment, we were walking behind her on the way to church, and my mother whispered in horror, (committing a venial sin, I'm sure), "That woman isn't wearing a girdle!"

"How do you know?" I whispered back. And then she pointed out the reverberating cottage cheese, inadequately obscured by polyester (not a good choice, either). Somewhere in the recesses of my young mind a tiny alarm bell sounded, a bell like fancy people used to ring in movies when they were calling for their maid, but this tinkling little bell announced that someone had taken a beebee gun and shot the tiniest hole, all but unnoticeable, really, but a hole nevertheless, through a window in the fortress of Western Civilization. You know you're in trouble when the middle-aged start throwing off restraint.

I also remember that we always had pretty hats, our Easter bonnets, and pastel or navy blue dress shoes. Never white of course, because back then it was considered gauche to wear white before Memorial Day. Who made up this stuff? Yet following it made everyone more relaxed, because we knew what the rules were. Speaking of rules, the rules were pretty easy for the men and boys: Thou shalt wear a suit, dress shirt and tie, or at least a dress shirt, dress pants, and tie, and thou shalt not EVER go to church with unpolished dress shoes! But men seemed to love to polish shoes. My father had a little shoe shine kit, with Kiwi brand shoe polish, buffing rags and boar bristle brushes, and he seemed to relish the weekly task. I know I liked the smell of the freshly polished leather, and was fascinated by watching him polish away at that shoe leather until you could almost see your reflection when you looked at it.

Back in the kitchen, all of the women would be wearing aprons, as they did every day anyways. They never wore much, if any makeup, and they all had Easter corsages which would be safely stowed in the refrigerator right after church in hopes of keeping them fresh for another run or two.

The food was always eaten loud. Do you know what I mean? Hot, too, of course, but Loud. With gestures. Laughing, or scolding, and with joking and teasing, perhaps, and lots of opinion giving, in not one, but two languages, all LOUD. It was always fun to me to be outside the house when we had company, standing under the windows and listening to them talk (because crazy Italians who live up north are notorious lovers of fresh air and get overheated by the cooking and the shouting and leave the windows open, even if its just a crack). If the talking was in Italian and you didn't know what they were saying you would bet that they were having a big argument, but no, it was just a discussion. Discussions themselves seem to have gone out the window nowadays, because nobody is home to cook, eat and discuss with each other. And the Internet, the tawdry replacement, seems to be only for endless arguments and name calling, which is really bad for the digestion.

I told my family that this year we are going out for Easter dinner, because I am singing in the choir, and cleaning after church, and some people have to work early or later, but now, as I think about it, I am changing my mind. Because I want my children to have a continuing tradition of holiday dinners at home. I want them to be able to look back and be built up in their spirits as they reminisce, the way I am when I think back. I may not be wearing a girdle that day, but I will at least go for the control top panty hose AND slip. Though they cannot be here physically, I trust and pray that all of my co-revelers of holidays past will be in the kitchen with me, part of that vast cloud of witnesses, the Church Triumphant, cheering me on. Loudly.

2010-03-26T09:48:00.000-04:00

WE HAVE BETTER THINGS TO DO

I seem to always lose my bearings when things in the larger world upset me. It is one thing to be gravely concerned about the future of society and one's family, but quite another to be consumed by those concerns.

We are better off getting to work and praying about the larger things as we go about our day, as our hands and hearts continue to make life sweet in our private world.

God alone is in control and He uses the choices man makes in his free will to effect His all-encompassing plan. Better to get going in the morning and to sing a song than rant and rave on the Internet or in front of the television.

My goal is to be so tired at night from hard work and my daily interactions with others that I can fall, happily exhausted into bed, knowing I've done my best, and if not, asking God's forgiveness and the chance to begin anew next morning.

Perhaps we should just get busy today, with productive things, and doing it all with love. Concentrate on our own sphere of influence, and implore God to use His.

2010-03-23T14:20:00.000-04:00

IT IS GOOD FOR THE SOUL TO BE GROWING SOMETHING

It is Springtime, and the promise of new life begins to unfold. In times when you are discouraged, and things just aren't going your way, or your country is being taken over by a bunch of little girls, you need to press on and do something constructive. Like plan and plant a garden.

There is something so satisfying about digging in the soil, and feeling earth in your bare hands. I find that it makes me literally feel grounded again (of course) and revives my weary soul. It is part of the health care plan that God gave us, and what could be better than growing at least some of our food ourselves, and gaining just a teeny bit of independence is so doing? Or do these people know better than we do?

You know, there are people who are issuing edicts about what, since they are taking control of us, we should eat and what we should do to remain healthy, so that we can better fit into their plans for us. Some of these people smoke cigarettes or wear polyester pantsuits and get way too much plastic surgery, but they know better than we do about how we should live. As usual, it is "Do as I say, not as I do". Its a shame that they do not worry about the health of the unborn who are slaughtered in their mothers wombs in America, but that is how crazy their thinking is. They compared what they did to the Civil Rights movement. What a farce.

"Woe unto them that call evil good, and good evil; that put darkness for light, and light for darkness; that put bitter for sweet, and sweet for bitter!", says Isaiah 5:20.

God defend us from this monstrous regiment of women!

Well, I propose that we take matters into our own hands, and try to live in healthy ways, so that we can stay out, as much as God wills, of their government system (that and vote them out next time). So if you live up north right now, go out and plant some peas, parsley and start some brassica seeds (things like cabbage, broccoli, brussel sprouts) indoors. Those of us in the mid-zones can be sowing lettuce, herbs and many other things directly into the soil right now, and if you are in the deep south and pacific west, well then good for you, because the planting world is wide open.

And find out what edible things grow naturally in your area, and start foraging. I particularly love to do this, but then I am nothing if not a bit eccentric. I come by it naturally from my father, who loved to forage for greens, berries, mushrooms, nuts and fruits from abandoned orchards. One time, I saw these Polish ladies picking crab apples from landscape trees outside a restaurant in a shopping center. So guess what? I got in there too, and afterwards made delicious jelly from my stash. If you decide to forage, you probably want to pick from plants and trees that are over 20 feet away from the road because of contamination from car exhaust, but you can still find plenty of landscape trees and abandoned or wild growing plants that fit that bill.

The natural thing is to also plant perennial edibles that are indigenous to your area as they will be the healthiest and hardiest. Do a little research and find out what grows well and/or is native to your area, and get going with that.

Not everybody wants to forage, however, and lots of people do not have much or any land to plant on. You can look into square foot gardening, wherein you amend the soil (which we need to do anyway) to make it really rich so you can grow a lot in a little space. People in apartments can put things out in pots on the balconies or in the windows.

I also love to go to the "pick your own" farms and well, pick my own. It is fresh and cheaper than what you can buy in the stores. It is healthy to be out in the sunshine and fresh air, too.

Nancy Pelosi (groan) says that now that this massive takeover has been effected and we are on our way, via financial ruin and moral disintegration, to the trash heap of history, we can (be made to) focus on diet rather than diabetes and other drivel ad nauseam. Yes, well, we don't need Nancy to run that for us, do we? Whatever we can do for ourselves, we should do. I think we will be better fed, healthier, and more fulfilled by doing what we can for ourselves.

Awhile back, I wrote down some rules for myself. When I obey my self-made rules, I am a lot happier and things work out better for me. I will end today's post with them, and wish you a long, healthy and independent life!

Rise Early

Pray without Ceasing

Nourish yourself and others with wholesome food and drink

Practice the Presence

Work like a peasant

Get plenty of fresh air and sunshine

Make time for silence and solitude

Go to Bed Early

Be ever thankful

Gleaners

2010-03-12T10:00:00.000-05:00

FRIDAYS IN LENT

As most people know, Catholics and some other Christian groups go without meat on Fridays in Lent. Indeed, the Catholic Church has not quite abolished the practice of meatless Fridays throughout the year, but still recommends them to the faithful. This practice can be abrogated on other Fridays of the year, however, if other acts of penance or reparation are done instead. For you and me, it might be eating lesser meals on Fridays, or giving to charity, sacrificing some other pleasure or privilege, or doing some secret good deed for another person.

In Lent, however, we are to abstain from meat on Fridays, period. Well, not quite period, because of course during Lent we are to fast, give more time to prayer and bible study, give alms and in general, pull back from the world a bit more in order to deepen our faith and our walk with Jesus.

So on these Fridays, we turn to seafood dishes or humble ethnic recipes to fulfill our obligation. Now, we can go "American Ethnic", which is fish sticks and macaroni and cheese, or grilled cheese sandwiches with tomato soup! Then there are the various other soups, such as Clam Chowder, or Lentil soup. For us Italian-Americans, we usually have a lot of favorites in our arsenal, most of which include some kind of pasta, vegetable, and sauce. Spaghetti with clam, or shrimp or artichoke sauce, for example, and greens and beans for another.

A favorite at our house is the old standby, "Pasta e Fagioli", which means Pasta and Beans. Somehow the pronunciation of the dish has devolved into Pasta Fazool, and I am not here to speculate how it did that.

I came not to explain Pasta Fazool
I came to cook it.
And eat it.

Now, if it is not a Friday, I will add a little bit of pepperoni to this dish, but for tonight, this is how it is done:

You will need a larger pot to cook the pasta in. Fill it 2/3 full of cold, salted water. You will use a smaller sauce pan to start your sauce and beans in. You assemble:

2 cups uncooked elbow or other small macaroni (e.g. ditalini, small shells, etc.)
1 15 oz. can of (I use Hunt's) plain tomato sauce. Or use 2 small cans.
1 15 oz. can of cannellini (white kidney beans), or great northern beans
As many cloves of garlic as you want (I always use at least 3 because hubby loves garlic).
Olive oil
Parsley (fresh is great, dried is fine; ditto for following spices)
Oregano
Basil
Crushed red pepper flakes.

Turn the big pot on to have the water come to a vigorous boil, and proceed with the following:

Cut up the garlic finely and saute in olive oil (maybe a couple of tablespoons of oil). Don't let the garlic burn, but let it just be a bit translucent. I find that it is helpful to have your cans of beans and sauce open and ready to be poured, and have your spices at hand.

Add beans (juice and all), sauce, and some liberal shakes of spices. A little crushed red pepper goes a long way, so be conservative with that. Let this cook together, well stirred, for 5 minutes or so, or until your pasta water is boiling. When water boils, add the elbows and cook for 5 -7 minutes. After this, drain off half of the water, or so that the water is just barely to the top of the pasta. Add in your sauce/bean mixture, and cook till elbows are soft but not squishy - sort of al dente.

Serve with generous amounts of grated parmesan or romano cheese. Enjoy with a tossed salad and maybe some bread. If the dish is not salty enough for you, add some more to taste. Usually when you use the pepperoni (which would be cut up and sauteed with the garlic), it is salty enough, but meatless may require a little addition.

This is really delicious and satisfying as only peasant food truly is. I wish you a happy Friday and a blessed Lent!

2010-03-10T01:00:00.002-05:00

LIVING WELL - PART 2

I was going to talk a lot about food as I continue my ideas of how to survive and thrive in diminished circumstances. I had set out to show how much food plays a part in the fact that so much waste is built into people's expectations of what it really takes to live an abundant life. I would like to show how a wise person will be able to live richly in the important things (including nutrition and and great tasting food) and still be prudent in expenditure. I still hold to the proposition that this can be done by eliminating what the world has told us we must have.

As I began to do some research, however, I learned a few interesting facts. Did you know, for instance, that 50 years ago a full one third of the family's income went to food and that now on average, a family spends only 12 to 13 percent their take home pay on food, including that which is procured in restaurants and take-out? How can this be, I wondered? One factor, I believe, is that 50 years ago the food we bought was whole food, either coming to us as God created it (whole chickens, whole fruits and vegetables, hunks of beef) or at least it was made from ingredients that God had created, like wheat, milk, eggs, with white sugar being a quasi-exception because it is refined from a whole food, sugar cane or beets). The foods on our tables were not part whole food mixed with inexpensive fillers and cheap substitutes (think butter rather than trans fats, sugar rather than high-fructose corn syrup, animal protein rather than hydrolyzed vegetable protein).

So perhaps this was a factor that made food a bit more expensive, but perhaps the expenditures in other areas cost less than they do today, percentage wise.

For example, when I was a child, a loaf of bread cost about 30 cents. Bread, back then, was sold almost exclusively in one pound loaves. My father, who made less than the average wage, was bringing in about four grand or so as a construction laborer who found himself unemployed each winter. We did have his unemployment check then and my mother would supplement that with the previous spring's tax return money. She would make sure to squirrel this away against that inevitable day just before Christmas each year when he would be laid off.

We were a family of four. We were also a one-income family, as were most, and we lived in a small cottage which they had purchased in 1955 for $8,700, which amounted to about two years' wages. So they would buy the bread for 30 cents a loaf, and we never went hungry, but were quite well fed and comfortable. In fact, like most children, we thought that Mom and Dad were the King and Queen of Happy Land, as most children are wont to think, and it takes quite a bit to disabuse them of that notion. (Which right away should put to rest the antithetical idea that Mommy has to go to work full time in order to give the little ones what they need to be happy; as an older mother of 13 said to me once: "If they don't know they need it, they probably don't need it").

But back to the bread. Last week as I was checking prices of a multitudes of foods and staples at Walmart, I saw where I could purchase, some 50 years after the good old days, a 24 oz. loaf of Great Value (the store) brand bread for $1.34. That bread costs about 6 cents an ounce, which means that at that price a one pound (16 ounce) loaf would cost 96 cents. So in 50 years, it seems the price of a cheap loaf of bread has a little more than tripled. So if you tripled the paycheck of my"strong-of-shoulders-but-slight-paycheck" father, you would end up with the princely sum of $12,000. I think that is less than one can make on minimum wage at present. Uhh????

To be fair, the average head of household at that time was making about $5,300 a year, so let's just triple his salary, which means that he makes $16,500. Just above minimum wages for a year. Now, don't we all know families who are making $16,500 a year, with only a single breadwinner, who also own their own home, the loan for which requires 20% down on just to get the mortgage, with two kids who are well-fed, warm and cozy while they benefit from their mother's full time care of them, eating the Walmart bread while paying all their bills on time?

Well, no we don't know anybody like that, I suspect.

At this point, I looked over at the website http://aspe.hhs.gov/poverty/09poverty.shtml to see what the current poverty line is for a family of four as of last year (2009). It seems that if your family of four has a yearly income less than $22,050, then you are poor. And you probably are, but not because of food.

Remember our comfy little cottage? And that it cost about two years' wages? Our imaginary worker, whose bread has tripled to 96 cents and yearly pay has tripled to $16,500 would have be able to afford a house that was two years' worth of his salary. 16,500 X 2 = 33,000. His house would have to cost about $33,000.

Now let's look at the real world today, where nobody has so much from making so little. According to the folks at the Dept. of Labor, who doubtlessly enjoy crunching numbers and compiling these statistics more than I do, the current yearly income on average for the American family is $63,091. So if that family purchased a house that was worth a little more than two years' wages, they would have to pay a little over $126,000 for it. (And, by the way, pay next to nothing in property taxes). And that's not happening, is it? I bet you a year's worth of Walmart wheat bread that we will not get back onto solid financial ground as a nation or individual families until A) that housing bubble finally bursts for good, allowing housing prices to get back in line with what is sustainable, and B) taxes are cut to much lower levels .

Another area in which we spend tons more is that of transportation. Too many high car payments, too many cars per family and too much suburban sprawl (thus making for more miles driven per year), have us in a choke hold. To say nothing of choking on dirty air from car exhaust. Do you know why America has been the number one polluter all these years? Not from factories, because goodness knows we don't make anything here anymore, but from transportation. Look it up.

So again, I am attempting to ding on people's heads about making voluntary choices like downsizing on housing and transportation. And not feeling badly about it, but feeling a bit smug about getting off the wide road that leads to destruction.

While we are at it, we might want to learn how to do some of our own car maintenance, look at living a little closer together in centrally located areas known as cities. And downsizing our homes and our debt, laying off the credit cards, raising the deductibles on all our insurances, raising vegetables and raising chickens if need be. And bunches more, including the delightful subject of grocery shopping and cooking.....to be continued.

2010-02-23T10:08:00.002-05:00

LIVING WELL

"Early to Bed, and early to rise
makes a man healthy, wealthy and wise." (Benjamin Franklin)

"Live on a penny, and rule over much,
it takes but wisdom and a homemaker's touch." (Me)

I asked old Ben if he'd like to join me in writing to you about how you can live victoriously on just a little. Well, I guess he was so excited that he was speechless, so I took that as a "yes", and included a quote from him, above.

First, there are some concepts that you have to learn to love. A good place to start is by opening your eyes to the truth about what things are necessary, what things are important, what things hold true value. And,
right here is a good place to start...

Now that we have laid the foundation, let us begin to build, a little at a time, a good, and sufficient life. More than that, an abundant life. A life lived in such a way that you can put your head down on the pillow at night and sleep like a baby. Where the only debt you owe is the debt of love, which the bible instructs us to keep on paying to God and others as long as we live. Which by the way is a debt that will make you rich, indeed.

If I were just starting out as part of a young couple, or if I were to find myself as a single mother who needed to get by on very little, I would sit down and do some thinking over a big cup of tea made from a generic, store brand tea bag. And I would look at a few facts. The facts are, I would surmise, that we need a safe place to stay, wholesome food, and decent clothes for our backs.

WHY DON'T YOU TWO GET A ROOM?

I would first ask family members if we could stay with them and contribute to the work and financial needs of their household. If that was not an option, I would rent a room in somebody's house. Yes, I would. It would cost a fraction of what a regular apartment would cost, and I would do some research and find the best neighborhood I could find for the money that I had. When I say the "best neighborhood", my priorities would be safety, a decent school if I had children, and accessibility to stores and amenities - places I could walk to. Now in some places that might only cost me $200 a month, and in some it might cost me $600, and if the Lord willed, it might cost me nothing but what I could offer them as help around the house.

The thought of starting off married life or single parenthood like this seems really repugnant to many folks, I'd imagine. How you can you be happy in just one room with a only a few possessions. But people, in my opinion, really overestimate the happiness that owning lots of stuff can bring. Whatever you own will take up space and add more responsibility to your life. It has to be guarded, cleaned, maintained and fretted over. And sometimes needs to be insured. Which costs money.

Procuring the necessary space in which to keep one's unnecessary stuff also costs time, money, guarding and fretting over. Look, everybody needs a certain amount of space and stuff, but after a certain point the returns begin to diminish, the stuff turns to suffocating clutter, the space is difficult (physically and financially) to maintain, and we become slaves to this stuff, and its low-life kinsman, Debt. This is how stuff and debt come to own you. How wonderful for us if we assess the situation before we and our stuff are unceremoniously tossed out onto the sidewalk by a sheriff with an eviction notice. But you know, if this happens, you might as well look at it as a grand release of responsibility and a chance to have a picnic in the park on a Saturday, instead of doing all that mowing, washing, and waxing. On Sunday afternoon, you can sit and read a library book and take a nap after church instead vacuuming 10 rooms and milling through stores in search of more stuff to pack your house with.

Now if you can afford more than one room, wonderful! But whatever you do, you should be looking for ways to maximize ways in which to live a good life, WITHIN YOUR MEANS. Living within one's means is such an old-fashioned concept, and the way, no doubt, your ancestors kept things going along until it was time for the world to receive you onto its stage. It requires some hindsight, in the form of learning skills and systems that have worked in the past,

and foresight, in terms of planning for possibilities and eventualities.

Living within one's means in terms of shelter, means that you can live in your place AND still provide for the other necessities of life on a reasonable level. About 40 years ago and before, banks used to figure that your mortgage/taxes/house insurance should not exceed 25% of your pay. So, if you make $3000 a month, your shelter should not cost you more than $750 a month. This would ensure that you could make your mortgage payment and still live a decent life and not be house-poor. To put it in archaic, ancient terms: you could afford
to live there. Now, we all know that the cost of housing went totally crazy once bankers stopped demanding that people be able to afford their payments, resulting in astronomical prices for houses. Ye olde housing bubble. Which is deflating, it seems to me, but not bursting. Yet.

So now there is a lot of suffering going on in America, because people are losing their homes, cars, and other possessions left and right. But really, isn't a lot of the suffering mental anguish, based on losing Stuff? And hurt pride because we have to go about our lives in reduced circumstances. But not abject poverty. How poor is poor? Is it not being able to afford a big-screen TV? Is it having to live in a smaller house, or rent instead of owning? Is it eating macaroni and cheese at home instead of ordering out for pizza? God forbid, but we might not be able to afford that most basic of human rights, a cell phone.

I am not saying that people are not suffering, but could some of this suffering be alleviated by looking at things differently?

I have found a lot of joy in looking at an economic downturn as an adventure. (Yes, I know I am missing a few horses off my merry-go-round, but) I find it kind of fun to figure out ways to turn my problems into projects. There was a time in my life when we were awash in money, and I actually found it kind of dissatisfying to instantly attain what I wanted, with no effort, or no figuring out how to get the best deal on it. Well, God in His wisdom soon took that burden from me!

My burden now is point to a few ways that will encourage you in your quest to live a happy, "needs-met", and moreover, abundant life if you keep your priorities in order. These are: God, others, making the most of the free things in life (see video, above), and gratitude for all. Another tip: if one is good, you may not need 10.

Then ask for wisdom and a sense of adventure in how to build upon these great foundations.

More to come on this large subject, including wonderfully low cost and easy ways to maintain your home, and an introduction to that vast and awesome part of life - food!

2010-02-18T20:26:00.002-05:00

Let's just climb down there and sit on the big rock while we let our feet dangle into the refreshing cold water.....

We won't talk, we'll just sit and listen to the sound of the silver black brook all around us, feel the gentle breeze against our faces, and thank the green, shading canopy of leaves above us.

While we are here, we won't have to worry about learning new software or the paying of bills. Down here there is only the business of bees and birdsong, and a thousand wondering eyes, hidden from our view.

Here I would like to tarry, if only for an hour. Turn off the pavement and away from the paperwork - and all the props I must carry onto the stage.

For the show of love, that must go on.

2010-02-17T10:46:00.001-05:00

ASH WEDNESDAY
Lent Begins

And we begin again to make the first feeble step away from ourselves and towards God.

Off the grey, cold coast of Ireland lies a rock called Skellig Michael, where brave monks retreated in order to preserve the Holy Scriptures. Some consider that these monks, who risked everything to preserve the bible from destruction by Viking marauders, are the saviors of Western Christianity. On a clear day the rock is visible from the shore, but on this day, we had to take that truth by faith and not by sight.

There are now in the world, outward signs of the seriousness of our inward condition. For a few decades we were left to our illusions but now, mercifully, we are having our eyes opened. Systems, the status quo, and our own personal security seem to be failing. The bible says that the things that are unseen are actually more real than the things that are seen. We see, in the tangible world, merely a reflection of the fragility of our own souls, and begin to get the slightest sense that we cannot take anything for granted here in this life and in what awaits us afterward. May we look down at our feet this Lent, and see the cracks and fissures forming on the wide road upon which we have been carelessly traveling.

Lent is for grown-ups. Time to look with unveiled eyes at the suffering of Our Lord for our sake, the condition of our souls, and at the suffering of creation itself. We can start today to come away from our pleasures and routines, and tarry awhile with the Lord each day. When we "give something up for Lent" we deny ourselves in order to unite our tiny bit of suffering to that of His.

We can take more time each day to pray and to meditate on the life of Jesus, and ask for a place of solitude within our hearts where we may meet with Him and hear what He has to say to us. He is always faithful to give us glimpses and inspirations of what His will is for us and how we can cooperate with Heaven to do the works He has given us to do.

And there certainly is a lot we can do, as Christ's body on earth. There is so much wrong out there, a lot of things that need improving, and a lot we can do to help other people. Almsgiving, the other aspect of Lent, allows us to share what we have been given with others who are in need. Our money, our precious time, even the use of our minds in the pursuit of developing new ways to solve old problems, are all things that we should give freely during this season of penitence.

We do not do any of these things for a reward, but for the love of Christ, and in solidarity with His suffering, and in pursuit of a closer walk with Him. Generous as He is, however, He insists on rewarding us with joy, strength and all good things when we in our frailty attempt to live out the Gospel life. That is just the way He is, you know; He is always picking up the tab, and buying the next round.

While we were yet sinners, Christ died for us. No greater love is there than this, that a man lay down his life for his friend. We love Him, because He first loved us..........

For God so loved the world, that He gave up His only begotten Son, that whosoever should believeth in Him, should have everlasting life.

May we all make a good and fruitful Lent.

2010-02-14T11:29:00.000-05:00

A DAY OF REST

My 18 year old son has mononucleosis and possibly strep throat. His glands are very swollen, as is his painful, raw throat. I can't tell you how much I take my family getting sick as a personal affront to my ministry as a home guardian. So the other day I went into full battle mode, grocery shopping for the freshest, health-giving food, rushing around the house, cleaning, sanitizing, making chicken soup, fruit smoothies and a ton of other things, going to the doctors, the pharmacy, and trying to wait on Grandpa and make sure my young working adults had their sustenance, too.

Last night one of them stayed out till almost 3 a.m., which had me pacing the floors. At 6 a.m. my "patient" awakened me because of sharp, hard pain in his chest. We ended up calling the rescue squad, waiting in the little front parlor for them, so as not to disturb the rest of the house.

After a two-hour stint in the emergency room, he is home and resting. Thank the Lord that the problem most likely is that he has patches of infection going down his throat into his esophagus, and that he was somewhat dehydrated.

And thank the Lord that I am able to come home and rest today, the Lord's Day, and take the entire day to restore my frayed nerves and tired body. Now that I know Michael is OK, at least for awhile, I decided to just forget everything else, for once, and be my own Valentine, so to speak. Dear husband got a card and some top shelf jelly beans, and he is good to go. Right now, everyone is either working, sleeping, or at church, and I plan to soon be at the church of sweet repose, located just inside my eyelids.

Happy Valentine's Day everyone

and a blessed Sunday to all, as well.

2010-02-09T19:37:00.004-05:00

Buy this print at Allposters.com

A WINTER ROSE

"There is nothing like staying at home for real comfort." - Jane Austen

This winter's unusually cold and snowy weather is not over, it appears. Virginia and points north are in for another burst and broadside of wind, snow and a wintry mix. I realize how genuinely blessed I am that, at least for now, I do not have to go out to work, scraping ice off windshields in my heels and pantyhose.

The poor, lovely, cardinal, our state bird, must bear the chill awhile longer, with only his feathers, his mate, and their little nest to defend against the ice and cold. I really marvel at how this little, winter rose, and all the birds survive out there through the winter.

But I, at night, can curl up amidst the thick, flannel sheets and feather pillows and listen, safe and warm, to the wind rattle the siding of the house and the icy rain pound against the windowpanes.

Windy Nights

by Robert Louis Stevenson

Whenever the moon and stars are set,

Whenever the wind is high,

All night long in the dark and wet,

A man goes riding by

Late in the night when the fires are out,

Why does he gallop and gallop about?

Whenver the trees are crying aloud

And ships are tossed at sea,

By, on the highway, low and loud,

By at the gallop goes he.

By at the gallop he goes, and then

By he comes back at the gallop again

How absolutely blessed and rich we are, if we have a warm, dry home in which to dwell. How much more blessed, indeed, if we are hidden in Christ, in whom we live, and move and have our being.

" He that dwelleth in the secret place of the most High shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty.

Surely he shall deliver thee from the snare of the fowler, and from the noisome pestilence.

He shall cover thee with his feathers, and under his wings shalt thou trust: his truth shall be thy shield and

buckler. "

from Psalm 91:1-4

2010-02-08T00:20:00.000-05:00

CATHOLIC ART

My husband's cousin, a good friend of mine, became a realtor in the last couple of years. At one point, we were considering a move back to our home area, and she was showing me a couple of houses. The one I liked best was owned by an Italian-American, Catholic couple in their early nineties. That they were Italian was obvious, to me, because of the decorating scheme, the lace curtains and plastic table cover, the propriety of the kitchen, the double wall ovens, the family portrait of them from 45 years ago, and as cousin pointed out, the "Catholic pictures" all over the house.

Now this cousin happens to have been brought up Catholic but joined a Protestant church in her early 20's. As such, she is a wonderful example of charitable Christian virtue, but does not feel the Catholic church is quite a valid branch of Christianity. We have discussions about this from time to time, as you might imagine.

So when she made the comment about the "Catholic pictures", which portrayed, along with Jesus, the Blessed Mother, Saint Joseph and a host of other saints, I stopped to reflect on the idea that one used to be able to tell immediately if they had entered a Catholic home, by what was on the walls.

The biggest giveaway would undoubtedly be a crucifix hanging somewhere. Then, you might see a statue of the BVM, or even Saint Anthony. Or holy cards stuck onto dresser mirrors. Maybe even a small holy water font hanging in a bedroom. In the neighborhood where I grew up, many people even had small shrines set up in the yard for Mary, surrounded by flowers and pretty stones.

Though this is still most often the case in the homes of elderly Catholic folks, it probably does not figure prominently in the homes of most Catholics today. Except in mine. And I'm flirting heavily with "elderly" now anyways, but most baby boomers would probably not have this kind of thing, either.

Pictured above is a painting of the Holy Family, which hangs in our foyer. Notice the palms stuck up on top of it, from last year's Palm Sunday mass. The rest of the house contains a couple of crucifixes, and the aforementioned statuary, holy cards, and even the little font.

In the back yard, my husband has built a fountain, and next to it, is Saint Anthony. Come to think of it, a lot of non-Catholics do allow Saint Francis into their back yards, he being a nature lover and all, and so he has become a cross-over yard decoration, much as someone like Faith Hill or Shania Twain have successfully made the crossover from country music to pop.

I guess it might seem kind of corny to have these things up, even to fellow Catholics. And maybe even offensive to others. I don't know, but I do know I find it comforting and inspiring to have these holy reminders around me. And I guess I am not ashamed to self-identify. Most importantly, though, is I feel that people who live in a home are influenced by what surrounds them in that home. And I pray that what surrounds my family and visitors would comfort, influence, remind and inspire them.

So, welcome to my home and may the love, peace and joy which the Holy Family enjoyed dwell in each home and heart today.

2010-02-05T09:17:00.000-05:00

SILENCE IS A GIFT

I had almost forgotten this. Much as I had tried to maintain an atmosphere of peace and quiet around me, I had failed, and some time ago, imperceptibly, accepted the din and confusion of the world in which I live, and had even become used to it.

I live with six other people, five television sets, three computers, surround sound stereo, and various other "music"-emitting speakers. Very often there are extra people in the house. Outside, Navy jets routinely roar overhead and helicopters circle around looking for goodness knows what. A block away, across the field, 50,000 cars pass by on a daily basis.

But worse than all that, I had lost that interior silence, the one in which the soul is still and open to hearing from God. Long ago, I must have given in to allowing my thoughts to whirl around inside me, to allow fear and folly to run amok inside my head. For days on end I might find myself without a plan, merely racing from one duty to another, talking, shouting, complaining, and in a word, reacting to everything and everyone.

The externals cannot affect a soul whose eyes are fixed on God. Brother Lawrence, an obscure little brother who served in a French monastery long ago, was assigned to perpetual kitchen duty. But among the clatter and confusion of a busy kitchen, his spirit communed with God, and the simple man whom his superiors thought to be not much good for anything but scullery work, wrote about his life with Christ, which has now become one of the great spiritual classics, Practicing the Presence of God. You can read about him here:
http://www.ccel.org/l/lawrence

Last weekend, when we got an actual snowstorm (rare, for my area), the outside world became unusually quiet; nothing was flying overhead and almost no cars were on the road. Two of our visiting relatives had left the day before, and two of the young people were out of town. The others slept in, and lo and behold, it was so still in here that I could actually listen to my own thoughts. And I felt uneasy! I suspect this is why the vast majority of people today keep the noise pumped up. It can be scary to be confronted with oneself, to have to tune into what is really going on inside of our minds and hearts. I actually felt kind of depressed.

And I think that just being allowed to experience that feeling of the empty nest made me sad and lonely. I was really surprised at those feelings, which hit me like a strong gust of wind in the face. So, immediately, I began to thank God that I do have a busy life, with loved ones all around me. And I realize how grateful I should be, that I have strength and health to do the work I have been given to do.

Beyond that, I believe that the Lord was speaking to me about the need to remain filled with the Holy Spirit, with Whom which there is always fellowship and never a need to feel lonely, whatever the circumstances may be. So that the issue becomes one of maintaining that interior silence, in which one receives all kinds of gifts and graces. Being filled with these, we begin to truly perceive what is going on around us, and we gain wisdom and insight. Instead of just reacting to what someone says, one whose interior life is quiet and well-ordered will understand the meaning behind the words, and be able to really respond to the speaker.

In short, I believe silence, both external and internal, makes us sane and centered. It takes us out of the driver seat. When we are silent, we can hear again. When we are silent, we stop competing; we refrain from shooting off that caustic, snappy comeback. We stop feeling the need to defend ourselves. We give the benefit of the doubt. We do not have to prove our points or ourselves. We trust God and His holy angels to intervene on our behalf and learn that blessed grace of acceptance.

"Keep silence before me, O islands; and let the people renew [their] strength: let them come near; then let them speak: let us come near together to judgment." Isaiah 41:1

"But the LORD [is] in his holy temple: let all the earth keep silence before him." Habbakkuk 20:20

2010-02-02T09:28:00.002-05:00

THE PATH TO PEACE

Did you know that nuclear disarmament begins at home? It does, because home is the place where we often give in to feelings of resentment, bitterness, ingratitude and dissatisfaction. Then the self-pity and blaming of others sets in, and the first thing you know, you are ready to nuke someone.

Well, take a tip from me. Nuking your house will also leave you incinerated, allegorically speaking, of course.

What I mean is that when we are critical, negative, "hurt", or resentful, it really takes a lot out of us, drying up our spirits, and making us actually quite unattractive. Quite simply, we become odious, and during these long, often homebound winter days, that is particularly bad.

The bible, in Proverbs 30, says that one of the three things that disquiet the earth, and one of the four things which the earth cannot bear is "an odious woman when she is married". I looked up the definition of the word "odious" and it means:

"Arousing or meriting strong dislike, aversion, or intense displeasure". Also, "Arousing or deserving hatred or repugnance". Whoa, don't ya just love how the King James Version refuses to worry about hurting anyone's feelings? So non-pc.

But I think we all know what an odious woman looks like, and by the way, it has nothing to do with her physical appearance, per se, but what that inner person generates to the outside world. A woman may be fat as a sow, a stooping hunchback, old, or even unkempt, but when her spirit radiates joy, generosity, cheerfulness and goodwill, she is treasured and beautiful, and in a word, attractive. People are attracted to her and desire her company because of the Christ-like goodness she emanates. Anyone who has ever thought, or said, "What does he see in her?" knows exactly what I mean.

But woe to a woman when she makes herself odious by a peevish, uncharitable attitude. First Corinthians 13 says that love "thinketh no evil", and the NIV version of that verse interprets that to mean that love "keeps no record of wrongs".
Oh, how we often keep a record of wrongs, neatly filed into organized folders, according to time and date, pristinely maintained in that filthy file cabinet in our heads. This is an odious practice which breeds "uglification", against which make-up, expensive night creams and even plastic surgery are no remedy.

It is also self-defeating because we will surely get it right back in our faces, just as surely as Walmart puts out Valentines Day cards on the day after Christmas.
Not that we aren't "justified" at times to be angry and resentful. Well, sort of justified. For instance, (and here is where I typed out my particular situation, which I deleted because my words were so ungodly, but boy, it felt good, but wicked, to write it!), when God asks a person to take on more responsibilities, it sometimes makes that person feel kind of witchy, and the other word that rhymes with witchy. And that engenders some really negative feedback, both from family members and one's own conscience.

So the path to peace, in the home and in one's heart, is simply to walk that narrow path that our Lord set out for us, and which He himself trod, that we might follow Him more closely. To judge not, lest we be judged, to be thankful for our many blessings, and to love and serve others as if we were doing this for the Lord, Himself, because in the final analysis, we are really doing just that. "Whatsoever you do unto the least of my brothers, you do unto Me".

Time to wrap up this post and head to the kitchen for beauty school.

2010-01-24T19:27:00.005-05:00

A SUNDAY IN WINTER

Winter landscape with skaters by Pieter Bruegel

I was blessed today, to have a Sunday like those of old - Church, a houseful of family, a huge mid-afternoon dinner, all topped off with apple pie and vanilla ice cream for dessert.

Days like this are golden threads in God's hands, with which He weaves a little sparkle into the homespun wool of winter. We were ten people here today, mother, father, sons, daughter, aunt, cousin, Grandpa, and our church's music director thrown in for good measure!

The music man was made to pay for his dinner by playing two of my requests on our piano: Carol of the Bells (yes, I know Christmas is over), and Pachelbel's Canon.

Now those who remain this evening are watching the Vikings battle the Saints. Of course, this turned out badly for the real saints, the Irish monks who hid out on tiny, rocky islands in the sea, fervently copying the Scriptures while the real Norsemen ravaged the Irish coast. At least these saints are holding their own at present with these paper vikings. They are tied at 14 apiece.

I like to think about other people and what they might be doing on a Sunday night in winter. Are they making their lunch for tomorrow? Doing laundry in between watching TV? I imagine that little ones might be getting their bath, and others are having their bedtime story read. I pray that those who must be out at work tonight will be blessed and protected, and that those who stay at home are enjoying all the comforts that may bring. And I leave this post with one of the many precious prayers of Compline, from the Book of Common Prayer:

"Visit this place, O Lord, and drive far from it all snares of the enemy; let your holy angels dwell with us to preserve us in peace; and let your blessing be upon us always; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen."

2010-01-07T07:51:00.002-05:00

Decluttering Update

Since Thanksgiving, I have been working on unloading and organizing in my home. As I wrote in previous posts, I have moved some pretty horrid furniture out of here, as well as a pick-up load (at least) of old clothes, other textiles, decorative and other household items.

I do not know where all this boldness is coming from (though following Flylady at Flylady.net is helping), but after Christmas, I went into our walk-in closet and took out every single piece of clothing that does not fit me - all of it. I was shocked at how much came out, and I am not even one of those people who likes to shop all the time for herself. And that is an understatement. Since I also started a new eating plan on New Year's Day (lost 3 pounds as of this writing), I put all the displaced clothes that were nice enough to keep into one of those space bags (jumbo size). You know, it is the one where you seal it and suck all the air out of the bag with a vacuum cleaner until it turns into a what looks like a giant shrink-wrapped chuck roast.

I also got rid of some other things that were hanging out in the closet, and just between you and me, some of these things were not just on my side of the closet! Things like old cell phones and electric adapters whose "adaptees" have long departed, etc. On my side were old magazines (what was I thinking?), a lovely snowman table decoration who can bless someone else's table, and a lamp shade, to name a few.

Speaking of the "other side of the closet", I was able to appeal to my dear husband about the value of doing this to his clothes, too. "Think of it this way", I said. "You will not be getting rid of anything, but you can put your (too small) clothes into these space bags and keep them for when you lose weight. But in the meantime, you will be able to see and choose easily whatever it is you want to wear, because every single thing in there will fit you."

The hook was that he didn't have to part with anything (well, I did cull a couple of things that weren't even fit to wash cars with), but could now store his two large space bags on the floor of the closet. He agreed. All he had to do was go through there and pull out the stuff, throw it on the bed, and he was done. But he did go the further step and arranged what was left by putting all his pants in the front, then shirts, etc. and arranged them by color, as I have always done with mine.

After I turned his bags of clothes into two flank steaks (since I had used the only chuck roast sized bag), and stored them, I announced the final part of the process, which of course is voluntary on his part. What I plan to do is leave my too-small clothes in the bag for several months to a year. If, after that time I am still too big to fit into them, out they go! But, if, at that time, my current boat sails and circus tents are way too roomy for me, then ha, ha, out they go!!!!!!!! Because I will not keep them as an exit strategy and good excuse to indulge in gluttonous behavior again.

Unbelievably, my dear husband said he will do the same thing. Quite a Christmas miracle, eh?

Other victories this last week included the fact that my darling daughter went through the under-eave storage area and cleaned that out, which included all those receipts and tax-related papers that stretched back to 1981. She got rid of a lot of other stuff too, but made me promise not to look. I also went through my desk and have started on going through the Christmas boxes and other knick knacks. Time to give someone else a chance to enjoy some of these extras.

My efforts, and this report, I hope, are to be continued.....

2010-01-05T22:57:00.003-05:00

THE NEW YEAR

New Year's weekend at Colonial Beach, VA - Photo by Julie Hockensmith

Barely had the year begun when someone trudged out into it to explore. I agree with C.S. Lewis that joy, always unexpected, always a gift, can be so intense that it is painful. That is what I felt when I looked at this photograph: a sharp slice of heaven piercing me through. How can I better describe this? The colors, the newness of the day, the fresh snow, the lonely footprints, the tranquil water, the sleeping boats, all hit me with a beauty so intense that they caused my heart to ache.

Life is breathtakingly beautiful and is heartbreakingly sad. With the hopeful promise and snow-blank slate of each new morning and each new year comes the parting of ourselves from what was, and can never be again. Each moment is precious and has it's purpose, though I sometimes long to be unaware of all that, just to live inside of the moment like a puppy and not be always on the outside of it, looking in. But truly, no moments are ever ordinary to me anymore, but singular, holy and sacred. Despite that, my bad behavior often tries to make them profane. And knowing that each holy moment can so easily be wasted or mocked makes for deep regret and the need for a good confession.

But then, I pick myself up, because some force compels me to trudge on out into the still and frozen new year while others are yet sleeping. I take a deep, fresh breath, and hurry back to wake you. And feebly attempt with my words to tell you how the morning air contains the smell of snow.

2010-01-02T20:01:00.004-05:00

Late Snow at Riverwood, by Bob Timberlake

THE BLESSINGS OF ORDINARY TIME

I am looking forward to getting back to it again, and I'm always surprised each year that it is so. After all, dreams of Christmas often dance, like the proverbial sugarplums, in my head on those impossibly hot, humid days we get down south, or when things just seem too dull and dreary to endure another mundane moment. These little flights of fancy often get me through, but there comes a time each year in early January, when I know that its time to let go and sweep it all away. A time to sit in the cold sunrise of a winter morning and let the house just be a bit bare, like an unvarnished piece of truth.

Truth, like Ordinary Time, is often avoided, feared even, but is oh, so necessary to living a healthy life. For example, when you take a deep breath and allow yourself to see a person as they really are instead of through the sugary confection of what you had hoped they are, or would at least become, you can actually find peace and/or change things on your end. It's like playing cards; you must play with all the skill you have to win with the cards that are actually in your hand, the cards you have been dealt. You wouldn't think of fixating on the cards you would like to have received, not if you hope to win, and not if you do not wish to get thrown out of the game.

So it is, with accepting reality, and with making the most of the blank days of January. Take this time to clean the house, declutter the closets, eat some plain food, and take off those sugarplum eye glasses.

2009-12-26T15:59:00.002-05:00

Brining the Bird, or, as it turned out:

My goose was cooked.

Well, this was a new experience for me and one that will go down in the annals of holiday memories that REALLY STAND OUT.

This fall, I read an article about a process called brining, wherein you boil up a heavily salted liquid concoction that contains many different flavorings and variables, and proceed to soak the turkey in said concoction overnight.

This brine will turn that dry bird into a juicy, aromatic, savory turkey and make the cook achieve rock star status in the minds of her guests. Mind you, the article did not promise any of this, but I could read between the lines. The dirty little secret among homemakers is that we crave fame and honor now among family, our children's friends, and the neighborhood in general, and after death, we wish to become legends. We will search high and low for some esoteric ingredient, stay up till all hours of the night, spend way too much money on sewing and crafting supplies, and put ourselves through rigors that would cause a Navy Seal to ask for a desk job, all to achieve a bit of praise now, and to ensure that years after we are gone someone will be reminiscing about the wonderful way we cooked this, or baked that, or did things this way and it was the best way.

Usually these efforts backfire, at least for me, and often people end up remembering something else, something that makes them laugh out loud. Like when my formerly widowed father brought his new wife to my house for Easter dinner, and after preparing a repast fit for royalty, making the house presentable and the children looking adorable, all my new stepmother could remember was that at 3 pm when they rang the bell, I answered the door in my pajamas.

Oh come on, what about the glorious ham, the homemade manicotti? Long forgotten, I assure you. She laughs every time she tells that story, which is quite often.

So when I read about this brining technique, I thought about it, and about how a 22 pound turkey is not the easiest thing to maneuver around, and how it would require extra steps and extra work on top of a whole lot of work already, and in spite of that, or probably because of that, I decided to GO FOR IT!

I will spare you the details of how it happened, but suffice it to say that a couple of hours later, in attempting to reposition the baking bag holding the 22 lb. bird and two gallons of salty, sugary, fruit-floating liquid, the turkey and the broken bag ended up in my lap, and from my waist down to my shoes, and over the river and through the woods and under the refrigerator, went the brine.

Well, things could have been worse, and almost were. I ran into the bathroom and took off my jeans (now pickled pants), leaving me presentable from the front because I was wearing a bib apron, but quite an unwelcome sight from the back. Which is the part that was facing my adult son's bedroom door. And he was in there. And thank God, I realized it before he opened the door to the sight of the ol' harvest moon clad in tighty whities, rising there in the doorway. He never would have gotten over that, and I am not sure what the trauma would have done to him.

Now a sensible person would dissolve into tears, leave the whole mess, get tidied up and go Christmas shopping, but not me. I did tidy up, but went straight back at it, finally getting bird, brine, fruit et al into a 20 quart stock pot, and even made it fit into the fridge, and you know what? That was some tasty turkey. And this story, well, it may just be the stuff (or stuffing) of legends.

2009-12-22T23:48:00.006-05:00

TOO MUCH TO HANDLE, BUT STILL GLORIOUS

Well, Papa has been with us for almost two weeks, and I have yet to finish wrapping and maybe even need to do more shopping, but I have been baking the last two days. I have made so far:

4 batches dark fruit cake
regular rice krispie treats
peanut butter rice krispie treats
brownies
peppermint meltaway cookies
chocolate rum balls
Christmas cutout sugar cookies

I would like to make pignoli (pine nut cookies made with almond paste), pumpkin pie (a request from one of our sons), and Buche De Noel (which is the traditional French yule log cake). Also, once again, I would like to make this special Christmas Eve pastry that was particular to the local area where my grandmother grew up (Alvignana, Italy). I have never been able to duplicate it yet, but will give it another go, Lord willing. It must be eaten up on Christmas Eve because it is only really wonderful when it is freshly made.

Jr. gave his dad the early Christmas present of, you guessed it, a new recliner chair. He is very happy, and even happy with my rearranging the family room (taking the ugly, L-shaped couch out and putting a single white one in there instead).

The turkey for Christmas Day is thawing in a cooler on the front porch, the baccala is soaking for Christmas Eve, and I think I will not need to get any thing else from the grocery store.

The house cleaning, however, must be attacked with a vengeance tomorrow.

It is frosty cold here, thank you Lord! And I hope to get some pics up with the help of my youngest, who likes to take a lot of pictures, and knows how to load em up on here. Time to get under the snuggly covers, say my prayers and think about frost, frosting, and other lovely things.

2009-12-17T23:31:00.006-05:00

The Solace of Silence

I am up in my room, and outside my windows the night is a gentle, velvet, midnight blue. There is peace on this night in December, and I begin to feel a calm, recollected quietness building within me. This is the time of Advent, where we wait and watch for the Lord. In order to do this we must be silent, so that we may not miss what He is saying to us, or what He is trying to show us. The frenzy of the world may continue 24 hours a day, but we must regularly retreat from it, in order to ponder important things.

Why do we fear this so? We have become so accustomed to living with the ever-present electronic din that to do without it invites discomfort and disorientation. To take the time to come away from it is to endure the strangeness of being with ourselves, and maybe listening to our heart speak to us of its anguish or its secret hopes, or face the truth of our lives as they are at present. In silence, then, we must listen, because if we will not face ourselves, we can never be whole.

And in silence, and in the still, small voice, God seeks to speak life and guidance to us. Jesus said to his disciples on that night in the garden, "Could you not watch with me one hour? Watch and pray, that ye enter not into temptation."

The world is hurtling fast toward it destiny. We must not be lost in its convulsive busyness, lest we share in that destiny. Instead, let's deliberately soothe our frayed nerves and restless minds with silence and solitude on a regular basis.

In doing so, we become companions of Our Lady, who at this time perhaps gazed up to sky each evening, aware of the movement of that special, guiding star in the heavens, just as she felt the stirring of that holy life within her blessed womb. As she kept a recollected anticipation of the marvelous event that would soon occur, the birth of God's only Son, her own precious child, Jesus, we can only imagine how she used her time of silence to fully prepare her entire being for His coming.

As we feel the cold stillness of these December nights, may we come to a fuller knowledge of who this Holy child is, and of how much He loves us and delights to be with us. May we find solace in the silence, and realize that it is a gift to us, from Heaven itself.

2009-12-10T07:27:00.003-05:00

Revolt, Part 2

Oh what have I done? Forgive me, Lord, if I am beginning to think like those Israelites in the desert who longed for the bonds of Egypt just so they could eat cucumbers. If you have read the foregoing two posts, you will know that I have been desperate to escape from the overwhelming burden of stuff (because the people and animals can not be dispensed with, perish the thought!) that is tucked into every space in my house. I have filled and given away about 14 large bags of clothes and a box or two of household items. I had the trash man pick up the broken microwave, and assorted trash from the garage and also had them take the, the, the...............
ratty old recliner that my husband lives in. He is currently out of town, getting his father ready to come stay with us for a couple of weeks, and somehow the thought of incorporating Grandpa AND the Christmas tree into the middle of things caused me to go straight over the edge and ditch the chair!

Worse yet, because I have inherited a rather comfortable white sofa from one of my sons, I am itching to get rid of this too-large and rather uncomfortable L-shaped couch that currently hogs space in the family room. There is an old couple from church whose home sustained such water damage from the November nor'easter that they lost all their downstairs furniture. Folks are trying to help them and the call went out for furniture for them. So I am waiting to hear whether this thing can fit in their house. And I am praying that I can do the deed before hubby gets back. Then move the white couch and the Christmas tree in, and then of course, Grandpa.

Now my oldest son and I have planned all along to get a new recliner for the man of the house, but yesterday I realized that I might not be able to actually procure one and get it in here before he gets home, or by Christmas or within the next month. I will be going out with the next load of trash if that is the case. Junior says he doesn't want to be here, either. In fact, we will probably leave the state.

Photo courtesy of http://crawlingivy.blogspot.com/2004_12_01_archive.html

2009-12-04T19:49:00.002-05:00

THE REVOLT BEGINS TODAY

Nobody said that war is pretty.

Have you ever felt that your home looks more like this place (a thrift store) than a home? Have you ever tried to find clothes to try on at a thrift store? Say you want a nice, slightly out of style but modest dress for church. So of course you can find the rack of dresses, but can you easily find your size, or type without wading through them all and taking wild guesses at whether the ones you pick will fit? If you are like me, you will feel a little frustrated at this point. But perhaps you are starting to feel that way at your own house.

When you need to find an important piece of paper or a phone number at home, or the nail clippers or whatever, and you find yourself having to run from room to room, looking high and low, you are in a bad place, and I don't mean the mall.

Or you may have this dilemma: you are not one of those naturally organized people, but through trial and mostly error, through the grace of God and pure determination, you have managed to gain some measure of control over your household. Then somebody you know and up to this point loved, decides to make you the benefactor of their cherished stuff. Or you find out you are going to have a baby and ten wonderful people unload all their baby things upon thy hearth and home.

Or people move in with you. Or your spouse and you are diametrically opposed on the issues concerning what to keep and what to get rid of. Or your beloved likes lots of noise, wires and late hours in front of a blaring television, and you would rather read Wordsworth by the fire while listening to the old clock tick in a quiet room.

Or you can be like me and all the foregoing horror pertains to you!!!!! Well, except the baby part. But that did happen to me, five times.

But to continue on from the last post, I have decided that life is too short to be in a constant state of confusion and feeling overwhelmed. Its time to do surgery on this place and actually on my life. You know, most of the time surgery is necessary and is ultimately good for you. But in the short term, it elicits some fear and trepidation, and usually it is painful. Just like taking control of your life and domain.

So this week, I gathered up nine huge bags of giveaway clothes, and honey, I am just getting started. I also got rid of a twin bed frame and the mattress and box spring.
Today I called the sanitation department and scheduled a special pick-up. In our city we are very fortunate that if we have large items, old appliances or the like, we can arrange for the city to pick it up at the curb on our regular trash day. So on trash day, out goes the old microwave, a lot of bulky cardboard from new appliances, a broken computer chair, hopefully a busted motor scooter and whatever else I can scrounge up.

Now when I say "hopefully" the old motor scooter, that means I have to convince my husband to let go of the old rusted thing. I plan on convincing him about a few other items, too. But in some other matters, I am sorry, I have made an executive decision that clothes one has not been able to fit into for the last eight years or so, have got to go. Along with ugly clothes. And old, dead, primitive cell phones and cameras. And shoes that are composting in the closets.

Next, I have no choice but to attack the under eave storage, wherein is buried my Christmas wrapping paper, supplies and goodness knows what other Christmas stuff. Right now it all lies barricaded behind things my daughter threw in there when she moved back in. I envision adding to that giveaway pile. And dispensing with approximately, and you may not believe this, 28 years of receipts and tax-related papers. They are all in there, in boxes and large envelopes. Well, I wanted to be prepared in case we ever got audited. So yeah, I'll keep the last seven years of stuff, and maybe even pare that down after the new year. And maybe have a Christmas bonfire with the papery discards.

A recent study showed that people who are immersed in cluttered living conditions feel more stress, agitation and depression than those whose surroundings are orderly. The eye needs to be able to rest on some open space and symmetry. Which is why I feel so crazy right now and rather humbuggy about the holidays this year. I am a Christmas maniac, which only surpasses my zeal for harvest decorations, but this year, less will definitely be more. Because right now, I do not know where we can even put the tree. Remember the wall lined with computers? That is where we used to put the tree. I have six people in this house and most days seven (one son actually rents a place down the street but spends most of his free time and meal times here), not including friends of the kids who are here quite often. And don't forget about that little beagle boy of mine and those four ridiculous, eccentric, but beloved cats.

So to load up any remaining space with Santas, sleighs, toy houses and elves and holly would be suicide, I believe. Maybe this year I will put up one nativity set instead of four. And forget about putting cotton snow on EVERYTHING. I am telling you, my dear mother would be beyond appalled at the Broadway production I have been making out of Christmas. And my life. I can just hear her now.

You know the saying, "What would Jesus do?" Well, I am blessed to be able to draw from her example and say, "What would Mom do?" This will help me as I attempt to make some sense out of all this disorder. She knew what she could handle, and unlike me, felt happy enough with herself and her modest possessions, without having to go overboard.

Maybe that is it. Maybe contentment in one's interior life translates into harmony in one's surroundings. Let's ruminate on that one for a bit.....

2009-12-03T21:03:00.001-05:00

GRANDMA MOSES AND MOTHER MARY

A copy of this painting, Sugaring Off, by Grandma Moses, hung in our living room back home from the time I was a child until the old homestead was sold off in 1996. My mother, who was born in Connecticut and raised in Vermont, was a true New Englander in her tastes and her thrifty ways, and she got this painting for free, somehow. I don't remember if it was some kind of prize she earned on one of her forays into selling Avon or Stanley Home products, but nevertheless, this print became one of my mother's favorite possessions. So presiding over the drama and the comedy of our family life was the cheery scene of everyday people of a bygone day, making maple syrup.

Like I said, Mom was a true New Englander. She loved simple maple furniture and unpretentious decorating, and was a fan of pastoral themes and snow scenes. You could not pay her enough to have a painting on her wall of a seascape. She said that scenes of the ocean seemed lonely and depressing. Although her parents came straight from Italy, she never appreciated the more typically Mediterranean style of using bold colors, ornate furnishings, statuary, or window treatments and bedding made of rich fabrics. She liked pastels and understatement.

I must admit that she imprinted her aesthetics on me, but unlike her, I have been unable to just say no to a lot of things that are currently in my home which do not please me, and actually make my nerves all a-jangle.

My problem, or at least one of them, is that I do not possess that wonderful sense of proportion that my mother had, at least not consistently, and so when I think something is good, I sometimes think that having more of that good thing is even better. This is not a wise or accurate way to think; after all poison is in the dose.

For instance, when my youngest child was three and half years old, I thought that it might now be a good time to get a cat. (I never had animals when my children were babies, and that is a subject for another, perhaps lengthy post.) So we got a cat. And now I have four. And a dog. And expensive vet bills, prescription cat food, dog food, licenses, etc. Without the financial means, nowadays, to take all this in stride.

I don't mean to pick on the poor animals, whom I love dearly. There are so many other examples of my trying to grab all the gusto I could, or else not setting limits on others' gusto-grabbing.

What kinds of things am I talking about? Well, here is where it gets interesting, because our modern way of living has pushed much of this on me, and not just me.

I grew up in a cozy cottage that was less than half the size of my current home. We had one bath tub, two toilets, and three sinks. I now have three bath tubs, three toilets, and seven sinks. They had one television until about the last ten years of my mother's life, when they got a small TV for their bedroom. On this Christmas day, we will have five running, three of which are the larger, big screen types. We have four computers here. And thousands of dollars worth of video game systems and video games. We also have enough Christmas decorations indoors and out, to open our own store. Thankfully, common sense combined with laziness has prevailed this year and we are not decorating outside, and I am not going to put all my inside-the-house stuff out either.

Now granted, we recently had two of our adult children move back in with us, so there are six people living here currently. They brought a lot of their stuff, so we do have more than a small family would, but my point is that we do not need all of this, and in fact, it is a liability, at least to my mental health. I know I am not alone in all this, because everybody it seems, lives in bigger houses than than their parents did, and they have more stuff, and do more stuff. Are they feeling as crazy and out of control as I am?

Even though I inherited, and didn't buy at least half of these, I have way too much furniture, knick knacks, books, wall hangings, and heaven knows what else. Oh yes, I know what else: food.

Guess what? We cannot afford all this. And I cannot keep up with keeping it all clean and orderly. I am ready to revolt. More about that tomorrow.

2009-12-02T23:55:00.003-05:00

December Diary

More often than not, I tend to not get started on tasks when I say I will, hence my December diary starts on December 3rd., rather than the 1st. For example the season of Advent began on Sunday, which is when I should have started the readings and meditations for each day, but I didn't get started with that until today.

On a positive holiday note, I started making fruitcake today. My first batch came out really lovely, and I plan to make three more. Believe it or not, a lot of people like my fruitcake, which is dark and chewy. So I need to send some to Grandma Sallie, Bob's sister Sharon, my cousin Marcie, and cousin Merridy's pastor (the latest fan of the fruitcake).

I also pulled out all the indoor Christmas decorations, cleaned downstairs and began to deck the halls. I have way too many decorations and I think that this year I should perhaps find ways not instead of hanging up and setting out every last thing.

My Yankee candles were all lit today, and the Christmas music was on, and so it was a very good December day. Back to fruitcake tomorrow, the decorations, my music lesson, and a trip to the Home Depot with hubby and our friends, JoAnn and Paul, to look at trees. I am hoping to make my Advent wreath before this coming Sunday and also to get crackin' at those Christmas cards.

Hope everyone is finding a way to enjoy this busy season, despite the fatigue. The best thing about these December days are the long December nights!

2009-11-26T08:26:00.004-05:00

HAPPY THANKSGIVING TO ONE AND ALL

I pray you will all have a blessed and happy day! I remember many a Thanksgiving long ago, when we would make the ninety mile trip from our home in Schenectady, NY up to my grandparents in Rutland, Vermont. My mother would always sing this song to us, as we indeed made our way over the river and through the woods!

Over the river and thru the wood,
To grandfather's house we go;
The horse knows the way
To carry the sleigh,
Thru the white and drifted snow, oh!
Over the river and thru the wood,
Oh, how the wind does blow!
It stings the toes,
And bites the nose,
As over the ground we go.

Over the river and thru the wood,
To have a first-rate play;
Oh, hear the bell ring,
"Ting-a-ling-ling!"
Hurrah for Thanksgiving Day-ay!
Over the river and thru the wood,
Trot fast my dapple gray!
Spring over the ground,
Like a hunting hound!
For this is Thanksgiving Day.

Quite often, we would have a white Thanksgiving. How precious are those memories to me this day as I baste the bird in balmy Virginia Beach. But in my mind and in my heart, I shall travel those old roads and bridges again, and stand in Grandma's kitchen with my loved ones all around me. And be thankful for them, and for those who surround me this day. I love you all!

2009-11-25T09:38:00.003-05:00

THANKSGIVING EVE

I will be cooking up a storm today. The first thing is to clean the bird and get it soaking in some brine. Make the stock, then the stuffing, then start making the crust for my pies. The pies will be apple, pumpkin, and buttermilk (which is like a custard with a hint of lemon). I am also going to try Aunt Ruthie's recipe for another pumpkin dessert.

Then on to assembling the sweet potato casserole, the green bean, and the creamed onions. I will serve two small pie pumpkins that have been de-seeded and baked whole with butter, spices, and maple syrup. Oh yes, will try to get the cranberry orange relish made as well. More cleaning, ironing the linens, setting the table and covering it over with a sheet. And if those cats try anything funny with the table, they will be in danger of getting cooked up too!!!!

The little beagle boy better stay out of my way, and just bide his time on the sidelines for when something edible gets dropped on the floor.

I may just assemble the relish tray today, as well as the fruit bowl. Stuff the celery tomorrow. I will also serve corn, rolls, and of course mashed potatoes and gravy. The master will be mashing (and peeling, too, if I get my way). Maybe get a couple of them youngins to be my sou chefs.

Choir practice tonight, ugh!!!! Hope he doesn't keep us long, as I know my voice will be worn thin by then, ha, ha. But we have to practice our Christmas stuff, which is an odd collection of very pretty, but complex and sometimes weird harmonies.

Speaking of weird harmony, the entire clan will be here this year, and perhaps a friend or two. JoAnn will want me to roll (literally by then) over across the street tomorrow tonight for more dessert and a visit.

So now you know that I will be staying out of trouble for the next couple of days.

Happy Thanksgiving Eve!

2009-11-24T08:15:00.002-05:00

More Troubling Effects of Ignorance

I would also like to add another point about ignorance. Here are some things that even the Harvard grad seems to have missed in his education:

Lust is a bad thing. Lust means wanting something really badly, and deliberately subjugating any regard for the consequences to you, other people, and society if you go out and grab such thing. It is the opposite of love, which denies one's own selfish desires for the sake of the well-being of the beloved.

Lust is a destroyer of lives, virtue, innocence and civilization.
Lust does not think, it just consumes victims and perpetrators alike. Just look at all the famous, otherwise gifted and talented men who have been put to public shame and have lost their positions in society because they gave full vent to their sexual lust. And what does that do to their families?

How about the government sanctioned lust for material goods and other people's wealth? Virtually all but the eldest among us have not been taught that buying on credit for all but emergencies is immoral.

When you whip out the plastic you are saying that you lack the sufficiency within your own means to obtain that product or service (a fancy way of saying you can't afford it) and so must borrow other people's money, in effect, to attain these things. You borrow against your own future, which is rather presumptuous at best, and you exhibit an immaturity and lack of self-control when you simply must have that something right now, instead of doing without it or saving up for it.

The situation is made exponentially worse when one goes out and "buys" a house that he knows he is not financially qualified to own, just because bankers have become ninnies and are willing to throw money at anybody. Remember how the wretched twin Ignorance (see previous post) had the word Doom written on his forehead? Who would have thought we could doom this economy so quickly by lending and borrowing money all over the place with no regard for how it might be paid back? A person with knowledge and the wisdom to apply that knowledge would have known that and restrained himself.

Of course there are the situations where the washing machine dies two days before Christmas. Ideally, we would have money saved against such emergencies, but with inflated prices (which has a lot to do with families becoming double-income households) and deflated paychecks I think using the credit card to replace the machine is understandable. Or if there is a sudden death or family emergency, then it is a mercy that we have access to quick credit. But I am talking here about everything else, from venti anything to big screen tv's.

My point in all this consists in the way modern man has forgotten that prudence, self-control and self-sacrifice are virtues, and that what we have been encouraged to do (from the halls of leadership on down to the Walmart) these last several years is to satisfy our lusts by accumulating that which does not belong to us. Accumulating that which does not belong to us, for you academic elites, is called stealing, or theft, and is actually criminal. This also applies to many government entitlements and those that are in the planning stages now.

There is an old-fashioned term for what we have engaged in and what looks to be our undoing. It is called the love of the world.

"For all that [is] in the world, the lust of the flesh, and the lust of the eyes, and the pride of life, is not of the Father, but is of the world." I John 2:16

Beware the love of the world, for if you love the world, then the Father is not in you, so says the Apostle. He also adds,"And the world passeth away, and the lust thereof: but he that doeth the will of God abideth for ever."