Thursday, December 19, 2024

just when you think things are going well

 I had an appointment today at the eye doctor; I had to go two days without my contacts! I managed around the house, but it was weird. You can easily fall into your own little world, if you're as near-sighted as I am. I had to go without the lenses to allow my eyes to go back into their normal shape. Well, I had the days off; I was able to cook, wash dishes, do laundry, read. I cleaned, but at times it felt like going through the motions, since I couldn't always tell if I was getting the result I wanted. :D I made cookies today. I worked on my dress - that was strange. Bringing it up to my face so I could see it, but it was a strange perspective. Still, I managed. But I'm behind with the Christmas cards now, since you really need to see what you're doing for something like that. And, type - I tried writing a blog post, but it was too awkward. 

There is a lesson in all this. 

Even the hour when wings are frozen
God for fledging time has chosen.*


Meanwhile, Annie got a couple of non-adjuvant vaccines yesterday, and was a bit off. Daisy seemed to realize this, and when Annie went to sleep in the spare room, Daisy stayed nearby on the bed. What a nice little buddy.


*from People Look East

Thursday, December 12, 2024

new doors at last

Right after I took this picture she reached over and flipped that tree onto the floor. For the second time. I moved it.


The snow is gone. That's okay - we had it! Once it comes, the season takes on a new aura, and winter feels like it's really here. And after a dreary and very rainy and warm day, today was bright sun and chilly. And tomorrow will be around the freezing mark. 

We now have new storm doors! My brother found a fellow who could install them, and he did the front door this morning. They are easy for me to clean! I can remove the glass myself!


The glass part goes way down, and it is going to take some getting used to. I feel exposed, and Daisy didn't feel the same when I put the chair there. If they can get accustomed to sitting on the floor, then both of them could enjoy the view at the same time. But I'll keep on the lookout for a low bench, lower than the chair. 

It affords a better view of the brave little cherry tree.


That is one deep split. I suppose eventually the left hand part will just crack and fall onto the driveway. 

Frodo and Sam have achieved Mount Doom, and the ring has been destroyed. 

I'm at a bit of a standstill with my dress; the back keyhole facing is not laying flat, and I'm going to put in a few handstitches to do the job. And so I plod along, decorating a little, sewing a little, cleaning a little, reading a little, preparing for the Child to come.


Make your house fair as you are able,
Trim the hearth and set the table.

Sunday, December 8, 2024

the time is near

 I had a birthday, and there was snow! That always makes it ten times better. 



Winter has started early, which has been a topic of conversation around here every day, but it's going to be more temperate this week, and maybe up near sixty on Wednesday. The snow is melting, even as I type. 

We sang People Look East this morning at church; I think I always mention this in December, but the melody, the lyrics, the sprightly and hopeful air it has -

People look East, the time is near
Of the crowning of the year.


I love to sing it. 

I haven't done any cards yet, and it's practically two weeks away. We will what happens, and what doesn't. 



From Isaiah 30:  ...the Lord will make the glory of his voice heard in the joy of your heart.

Tuesday, December 3, 2024

rocking the Advent cradle

 “The way to begin healing the wounds of the world is to treasure the Infant Christ in us; to be not the castle but the cradle of Christ; and in rocking that cradle to the rhythm of love, to swing the whole world back into the beat of the Music of Eternal Life.”

                                              -   Caryll Houselander     

Monday, December 2, 2024

trouble and pain (but not really)

 The Thanksgiving dinner came out very well. We had leftovers once, and I had to put what remained into the freezer - we will appreciate it better after a bit of distance.

I'm taking a different approach to Christmas decorations this year, and I spent part of the day working on the living room. 


A red bow would be nicer, but this is good for now; I may change this picture anyway, but I love this one, with the warm colored flowers of late summer, something discovered at a rummage sale.

I want to start making cookies, but may have to do it piecemeal: mixing up dry ingredients ahead, mixing up the dough the day before, baking one or two batches at a time, etc.. Whatever will work. It seems I do lots of things like that. It's another way of going forward. 

I ran out at the blue hour, just to get some air. Very briefly.


Some leaves hanging on.  I keep forgetting the bulbs I just bought - will I be able to get them in before the ground freezes? It's in the twenties at night, and will only reach into the thirties much of this week! Why can't I remember these bulbs??

"On the first weekday of Advent, we are reminded that the full coming of the reign of God through Christ, for whom we long, will bring trouble and pain to all of us in whatever sinfulness we are engaged in, but only to cleanse us to dwell in justice and peace in his presence."

- Magnificat, December 2024

Sunday, December 1, 2024

season of expectation


Thanksgiving was very nice, and now it's Advent.                                                      

When you shall come, O Lord,
Wrapped in your glory bright,
Then shall the earth in terror quake,
The sun withhold his light.

When you shall come, O Lord,
Then shall the books be spread,
And from their secrets you shall judge
The living and the dead.


O Lord of justice, your coming overthrows all that is not ruled by you. Fill us with expectation and transform our hearts and lives, so that we may welcome you when you come. 

Readings from Magnificat.

Thursday, November 28, 2024

with thanks

 For life and love, for rest and food,
For daily help and nightly care,
Sing to the Lord for he is good,
And praise his name, for it is fair.

For life below with all its bliss,
And for the life, more pure and high,
That nobler life which after this
Shall ever shine and never die.

from Magnificat, November 2024

Wednesday, November 27, 2024

ready enough

 My brother: Tomorrow's going to be rainy, rainy all day.

Me: That's all right; we'll be cozy, cozy all day.


It has been gloomy every other day, it seems, but we need the rain. So it's all right. 

I was busy, busy all day. The squash pie is made, the bumbleberry pie my brother bought from a customer is cooked. I made the gravy from a very nice recipe through pinterest. The beds are changed, the laundry is done and things are clean enough, I suppose. 

We are ready, ready for Thanksgiving.




Tuesday, November 26, 2024

gluten-free ginger cookies

 The recipe for yesterday's ginger cookies is here. But I'll write it up, anyway.


2 1/4 cups buckwheat flour
2 tsp. baking soda
1 tsp. ginger
1 tsp. cinnamon
1/2 tsp. cloves
1/4 tsp. salt
3/4 to 1 cup brown sugar
3/4 cup olive oil
1/4 cup molasses
1 egg

Stir together the first six ingredients, then mix the rest well with the mixer, to ensure all lumps are gone from the brown sugar. Add the dry ingredients, then roll into one-inch balls. Roll in granulated sugar and bake at 375 for 9 - 10 minutes. 

The original recipe says bake till the tops are cracked, but mine didn't crack, or get ginger-snappy. They are really tasty, but seem kind of dry-ish, so I wouldn't want to bake any longer than I did. I used the lesser amount of brown sugar. 

from bungalowofblessing.com

Monday, November 25, 2024

in a day's work


 Today, I made some cookies, roasted the butternut squash for the pie, and mixed up the pie dough. With cleaning and laundry in-between, and dishes, oh, so many dishes it seemed. The cookies are a buckwheat gingerbread, called gingersnaps but they are soft. The squash - well, that's a story. A blogger I like just puts hers whole in the oven, so I did. It took an hour and a quarter on three seventy-five and it was perfect. But I forgot about the seeds and didn't cut it in half afterward. So, when it was cool I began peeling the skin off and there everything got mushy and the seeds were embedded in everything and oh what a mess, trying to pick them out, so many of them!

I then got the idea to put it all through a sieve. Well, I've never done that before; it was a bit of work and I was tired. But on the other hand, now the seeds are out, and it's all smooth as can be from the sieving. 

Time to rest.

Sunday, November 24, 2024

the real King

 It's the last Sunday of the liturgical year, the feast of Christ the King. This would be celebrated at the end, because proclaiming someone a king would be a culmination of their life. And next Sunday begins Advent, which is the beginning of the liturgical year. It would have to be the beginning, because it is the quiet, reflective time before Christmas, the birth of Jesus, and we know that life begins, not at birth, but before that, at conception. So, we honor that presence of him in his mother's womb for the three or four weeks before Christmas, waiting and preparing with her for the birth. 


It's nice for the merchants that Advent starts on December first this year, since all Advent calendars I've ever seen seem to think it always begins on that date. But Advent is not something invented by those who sell Christmas decorations. It was observed by the very early Christians and officialized in the fourth century - that's pretty early! They observed it practically from the beginning. 

Christ's reign is a conquest not over political enemies
but over the powers of sin and death.
His rule is redemption.

- from Magnificat, November 2024

Put no trust in princes,
in mortal men in whom there is no help.
Take their breath, they return to clay
and their plans that day come to nothing.

- from Psalm 146

Friday, November 22, 2024

late November

 We had plenty of wind yesterday; today, most of the Japanese maple's leaves are down. I was wondering when that would happen.


A few hang on, trembling in the chilly breezes. While I took pictures, Leo came through - he's often coming through.

Something caught his eye.

Then, I guess I caught his eye.

Thursday, November 21, 2024

yesterday, next week and tomorrow

 I went to put away the conditioner and there was a stink bug on it - the nerve! And he didn't want to get flicked outside. Well, it is raining. Thank God!! I think it's been dry for two months. This two-day rain we'll have probably won't do enough, but it's blessed, all the same.

I got an intestinal bout of something or other, and was wanting some soup. Then I saw a recipe from a youtuber with pumpkin, wild rice, and chicken broth and I got an idea. I made it my way.


Onion, and celery, chicken stock and pumpkin, wild rice mix, marjoram, thyme and parsley, and some leftover chicken. Just what I needed, easy to make, and I was able to resist the box of chicken soup with all the additives.

The stomach issue caused me to rethink the Thanksgiving menu, though. I was going to make a gratin. But, a week before the feast, I can't stand to think of that. Simply flavored vegetables are what call to me. I did a grocery order, and got some packaged green beans, and some whole frozen ones. The problem with green beans often is the strings. Hopefully, more than one option will solve the problem. I'll cook one batch at a time, of two different brands on Wednesday and see how they are. I'd rather not use the frozen ones.


Here you can see number 5, my missing skirt piece; it's slightly a-line. I will measure the bodice from side seam to side seam, and two seam allowances ( 1 1/4" total), and 4" for the tucks. I will be cutting the pieces in half lengthwise and adding another seam allowance to each (5/8").  I'll angle the pieces out a couple of inches on the way down to the bottom, and that should settle it. Maybe I'll cut it tomorrow.

"As the season turns toward December, we are settling in. ,,,as I watch the still, cold night sky deepening, and see the quiet brilliance of the stars, I like the feeling of impending change."  - Gladys Taber. And we might have a few flakes fall on Saturday.


Sunday, November 17, 2024

what's in a name?

 Or, what IS a name?

I was reading in Exodus, chapter twenty-three. Verses 20 + 21: I am going to send an angel in front of you, to guard you on the way and to bring you to the place that I have prepared. Be attentive to him and listen to his voice; do not rebel against him, for he will not pardon your transgression; for my name is in him.

I find this so interesting, and puzzling. What does that mean? 

Why does God say we should call upon the name of the Lord?  Why doesn't he just say we should call upon him?  If I see you at a distance, and call, I call you, not your name. I am calling to you, yourself. I may call out your name, or to put it differently, I may call you by your name, but I'm not calling on your name, so what does that mean?

Somebody recommended a book to me called God Has a Name, by John Mark Comer - it was somewhat helpful (although I don't remember how - guess I need to reread!), but I still have the question. And today in Exodus, there it was again, "my name is in him". I really feel that this is something we don't understand; that there is more to a name than we realize. 

But I'm not the one to figure it out.




Saturday, November 16, 2024

progress, and forgetting

 I was waiting for the cold nights to kill off the rampant weeds in my garden; I thought they might be easier to pull up. But we are also having a long drought - every day brings a fire warning. So, nothing is easy to pull out of a hard ground. 

Still, I went out today in the beautiful breeze and was able to remove some of it, and I guess I've got all winter to get it out of there, even till March. We'll see how diligent I am. 

I was noticing how the Japanese maple hangs on to its leaves when almost all the other trees have shed theirs. Some of the leaves look dry and deeper-colored, others look garnet with the sun shining through them.

"It is very often painful when the lovely images in the mind will not compose themselves into even reasonable facsimiles, in words. It can be so painful that I long to throw the typewriter out of the window and scrub floors all day. With a floor, I feel, you can see progress, you get somewhere."

                                               -   Gladys Taber


Oh, I was going to wash the bathroom floor today - forgot! 




Thursday, November 14, 2024

the case of the missing pattern piece, and other things

Not the temperature they predicted, but Monday was sixty-five:  mild, hardly breezy and wonderful for a day off. Now we have finally gotten into the forties for the daytime. Outside, everything is burnished. That's November.

I picked up a biography of Samuel Adams, cousin to our second president, John, and according to British officials of the time, "the most dangerous man in Massachusetts". Considered by Paul Revere, John Hancock and cousin John Adams as their "political father", and called "truly the Man of the Revolution" by Thomas Jefferson; it's a young adult book, but full of information and interestingly written. I really knew very little about him; now I know he failed at every job he undertook. He only seemed good at "talking and writing about the rights and liberties of the people". I love reading about this era.

I have returned to a dress I was planning to sew a year ago; I don't remember what happened. I had started on the bodice, and - ?  So, now I'm ready to attach the skirt part, but I soon realized I hadn't cut them out. Okay, there's plenty of fabric there, so I looked for the pattern piece. All the pieces were there, except for that one - it was nowhere! But, looking at the shapes from the layout examples, I am sure I can just make a guess. There are center seams front and back, so - four pieces, and they're a-line. I just have to figure out how big the tucks should be and how much fabric to allow for them.


My brother had a birthday. I gave him a book of the meditations of Marcus Aurelius. He is liking it, and surprised at how interesting the observations are. 

The Christmas cactus at work is setting buds.

Things are getting more intense in Tolkien's The Two Towers, with Gandalf and Pippin flying away on Shadowfax, his tail flicking in the moonlight. Then he leaped forward, spurning the earth, and was gone like the north wind from the mountains.

Sunday, November 10, 2024

a post-election reminder

 "Because we know that nothing finite is ever our final good, we are seduced by the inflated claims of the politicians, social theorists, philosophers, and bureaucrats who promise a paradise that will come if only we change the system or modify that economy or rearrange that society. Because our eyes are fixed on the city below with greater precision and judge it more critically."

                                              -   Bishop Robert Barron,  from a commentary on Romans, chapter 8

Monday, November 4, 2024

rereading

 "There are many wonderful books which are fine to read, but there are very few that are better reread, and still fewer that should be reread every year. 

For me the test is, can I bear not to read this again? A fine book is like a mine. You get down strata after strata until the very deep loke is reached. This takes time and thought and isn't a business of skipping through once. On the other hand, a book may be pleasant as a shallow running stream and still worth reading. But the ones to keep, to carry with one wherever one goes - these are precious cargo."

                                                -   Gladys Taber 





Thursday, October 31, 2024

farewell, October

 What a warm day! Too warm, really, and I made soup because that what I'd planned - could hardly eat it.

We had 154 kids come: lots of princesses, some inflatable costumes like chickens or dinosaurs (which made it difficult for them to maneuver, I could tell), some ghouls, a hot dog - with mustard, I'm happy to say and not ketchup. The second grim reaper asked me what his costume was.

me: The grim reaper!

GR: Correct!

me: Hey! Do I get a prize or something? (as he was walking off)

GR: Well, I'll see. Maybe I'll come back.

I certainly don't want that.

The first grim reaper had glitter. Less creepy. 

And that's the end of October. 

Monday, October 28, 2024

a complaint

 Any American my age is going to know what I'm talking about. When we were kids, the storm doors were light-weight, made of aluminum. It would slam after you if you let it go, but the sound of it would definitely be in the memory of anyone who had one of these doors. It's a summer sound, an American Summer Sound. 

They also were easy to clean, and I could take out the glass panels with no problem, whenever I wanted. The ones we have now are considered a step up, but ever since we got them, I have to enlist my brother to get the glass out. It isn't easy for him - he has to bang it and struggle with it. Well, years have gone by, and the rough treatment he gives it is taking its toll - on him, yes, but I was referring to the doors. There are bits flying because parts are getting brittle. It's not worth it! We are looking into new doors, and I don't think I care what they cost. I want to be able to remove those panels myself! We'll see if they make anything like that anymore. I'm feeling a little skeptical.


the cats enjoy the lower view these doors provide


Thursday, October 24, 2024

"In rough October, earth must disrobe her"

The title is from a poem by Christina Rossetti.

 We had a few warm days this week, and I had the intention to sit at the picnic table at lunchtime - this was at work - but was sidetracked. When I got home I was determined to just sit outside for ten minutes while I could.




I sat on the front step, around sunset. I'd forgotten that white mums turn pink in the cold - at least, some do. And there's the lavender I never planted. 

The next day we had a lot of wind and many leaves came down. 



Things are starting to look bare. 


Monday, October 21, 2024

like the music of a trumpet

 What can be said about a day that's perfect? How can it be described? 

It's been warm and summery, but takes several hours to get up there and then goes down for the night, so not too warm for soup. The sky, so deep and blue. I washed two windows in the balmy warmth. Tonight it will be cool, but not cold. Yes, very perfect.


"The air is cool as an old coin teaspoon, and a faint tang of blue woodsmoke spices the wind. The color of the great sugar maples is so dazzling it seems I must have dreamed it. The maples give forth light, like closer suns. The oaks glow with a garnet fire, and all the thickets blaze with scarlets and pale gold and cinnamon. It is like the music of a trumpet."

                                              -  Gladys Taber


Sunday, October 20, 2024

a prayer for good humor

 During his homily, Father read this poem by St. Thomas More:

Prayer for Good Humor

Grant me, O Lord, good digestion, and also something to digest.
Grant me a healthy body, and the necessary good humor to maintain it.
Grant me a simple soul that knows to treasure all that is good
And that doesn't frighten easily at the sight of evil,
but rather finds the means to put things back in their place.
Give me a soul that knows not boredom, grumblings, sighs and laments,
nor excess of stress, because of that obstructing thing called "I".
Grant me, O Lord, a sense of good humor.
Allow me the grace to be able to take a joke, to discover in life a bit of joy,
and to be able to share it with others.

Saturday, October 19, 2024

preparation

 October continues in all its beauty, with the past week's temps down into the fifties, which is lovely when it's sunny. But now we're moving into a few days up into the seventies. That will also be lovely, and I can hopefully get the bulk of the windows cleaned.

There was one day last week when I got the Wordle in two tries - when that happens, it's always pure luck.


I have to work tomorrow afternoon, so I prepared a casserole for Sunday dinner, since we had leftovers from Thursday, and I had the time. I peeled and cut up one of the butternut squash I grew - amazing how things grow from seed. The recipe appeared in a magazine we get at the supermarket, and this issue has several things I'd like to make. For this one, I had the squash, I had the kale, the onion, and the exact amount of cooked chicken from the whole one I roasted the other day, after making chicken and tortellini soup Thursday. 


I only had to buy the Swiss cheese. It sure looks good!

The supermarket had a special on packages of Larabars, but not every flavor. I only have liked the peanut butter ones: the plain, and the chocolate chip. But those weren't on sale, so I took a chance and got the Chocolate Raspberry Truffle. Oh, my. They will make an excellent afternoon pick-me-up. 

This morning before rising, I read the chapter on the council of Elrond, in Lord of the Rings. So much wisdom imparted to Frodo and his fellows as they prepare to bear the ring to Mordor:

The road must be trod, but it will be very hard. And neither strength nor wisdom will carry us far upon it. This quest may be attempted by the weak with as much hope as the strong. Yet such is oft the course of deeds that move the wheels of the world: small hands do them because they must, while the eyes of the great are elsewhere.

                                                               - The Fellowship of the Ring, by J.R.R. Tolkien





Sunday, October 13, 2024

morning surprise


 I know this is the worst photo ever.

At the moment, sunrise is around seven o'clock here, and this morning at seven my brother was outside watering some shrubs before taking his walk. He called to me that the sky was pink and I said it is that way from time to time at sunrise. But then he said there was an orange rainbow and you could see it from the front of the house. Well, I didn't have my contacts in yet, but I went out on the front step to look; I didn't see any rainbow. So, I went to the back door (which is not in back, but on the side of the house), and I saw it, across the street. It was fading, but he said it had been pretty bright. 

Okay, we all know the conditions for a rainbow, I think - I always run outside to look for one after a rain, when the sun is bright somewhere and the clouds are still dark on the other side. But it hadn't been raining. It was dry. And, our rainbows are always in the east, in the back of the house, never across the street, in the west. Not to mention that I never heard of an orange rainbow - mostly orange, he said. 

I can only assume it was due to the aurora, which has been appearing even where we live, a couple of times. Nothing like in northern Europe, but more like a bright pink sky well after dark, at night. So, is this connected to that? It must have to do with the electromagnetic activity.

Monday, October 7, 2024

suddenly bright

 The swamp maple must have turned brilliant when I was looking the other way.


"Every season has its own glory in New England, for every month has its own separate identity, different personality. October is the dramatic month, everyone knows about autumn in New England."

                                        -  Gladys Taber

Saturday, October 5, 2024

October the perfect

I think I must say this every October, but - today was perfect, and I think a day like this, here where I live, only appears in October. Deep blue sky, strong breeze, dry air, beautiful colors in the trees.  Absolutely perfect, and delightful. In the seventies. It was heavenly, and also, the song of the mockingbird in the distance several times throughout the day and out my window in the early morning! It couldn't have been better.

I was asking myself if we don't have perfect days like this in May, maybe? But no. May is a nice month here, when things are getting warmer. But there is a big difference (in my view) in a month where you're getting warm after a cold few months, and a month where you're already nice and warm, coming into a cooler season. A big difference. Not to mention that I prefer the colors of the bright leaves to the flowering trees - sorry, but yes! There can be mud in May, but October is - totally beautiful. 

Unless you're in North Carolina. May God have mercy on them, because the government certainly isn't. 



Tuesday, October 1, 2024

frail flowers

 If Hope, by Christina Rossetti

 If hope grew on a bush,
And joy grew on a tree,
What a nosegay for the plucking
There would be!

But oh! in windy autumn,
When frail flowers wither,
What should we do for hope and joy,
Fading together?




Sunday, September 29, 2024

communion

 "Love leads to communion, and communion allows everyone to move forward in harmony. Communion is not a happiness passively enjoyed, but it struggles to maintain a fraternal spirit and to open the doors of this fraternity to all people. By nature, love propagates itself; it is contagious, communicates to others, and draws everyone to communion. 

I must engrave this maxim within myself: 'Communion is the struggle of every moment.' A moment's neglect can destroy it; a mere trifle suffices: a single thought without charity, an obstinately maintained prejudice, a harmful attachment, a personal ambition or interest, an action done for myself and not for the Lord, returning to a bad habit already abandoned, the desire for personal satisfaction that overrides what is pleasing to the Lord. 

Help me, Lord, to examine myself in this way: Who is the center of my life: you or me? If you are the center, then everyone will be gathered into unity. But if, instead, I see that people around me lose interest and disperse, that will be a sign that I have put myself at the center."


                                                             -  Cardinal Francis Xavier Nguyen Van Thuan



Saturday, September 28, 2024

a little crop

 On Sunday, September the 22nd, I started reading Lord of the Rings again. I was feeling the pull, but thought I'd wait till Bilbo's birthday.

We had a nice, soft, quiet rainfall the other day, finally. It's been very dry for the better part of two months. 

I decided to harvest my butternut squashes. There were four of them, but one was lost; it had detached from the vine and rotted, all because I am an inattentive gardener. 


Still, it's amazing to see these things grown from one small seed. I would like to save one for Thanksgiving.

There is a lovely white cloud of tiny asters out there in the tangle of my garden, and tomorrow is Michaelmas. At least I assume that's what they are - it's the right time of year, but they are usually larger than these.



They're charming, anyway. We're in a warmer, humid spell, so I stopped washing the windows for a bit. I like doing them when it feels like fall's really here. There are other things to do. 

The images out of Tennessee and North Carolina are terrifying. May God have mercy on them.


"the Shadow takes another shape and grows again.

I wish it need not have happened in my time, said Frodo.

So do I, said Gandalf, and so do all who live to see such times. But that is not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us."