I don't recall if I already said this, but our big garden was a bust this summer - my brother didn't roto-till it as early as usual, and the very wet July killed several plants - most of them! I do think our preoccupation with Sweetie's illness was a factor.
The little garden beside the back door is giving us plenty of peppers, though. There are always white blossoms on the plants.
Something to be grateful for.
Reading my Bible last night, this intrigued me, a commentary on Luke, chapter 4 - which deals with the temptation of Jesus - by Bishop Robert Barron:
"What is most interesting about this second temptation is that the devil couldn't offer all of the kingdoms of the world to Jesus unless, he, the devil, owned them. All the kingdoms of the world, Luke tells us, belong to a fallen spiritual force. I don't know a passage in any of the literature of the world that is as critical of political power as this one!
Whereas many (if not most) cultures both ancient and modern tend to apotheosize their political leaders, the Bible sees right through politics and politicians. One of the most important contributions of the Scriptures to contemporary politics, at least in the West, is this deep suspicion that power tends to corrupt. The institutionalization of this suspicion in complex systems of checks and balances is a healthy outgrowth of the biblical view.
To be sure, scripturally minded people should not allow their suspicion to give way to a complete cynicism regarding politics. Since God is powerful, power in itself cannot be construed as something evil, and indeed the Bible frequently states that legitimate political authority participates in God's own governance of the cosmos. But given the general human tendency toward self-absorption and violence - about which the Bible is remarkably clear-eyed - one should never put one's total trust in political systems, leaders, or programs. And one should be ever aware of the fact that human legal arrangements are under the judgment and authority of God."
and:
"Power is extremely seductive. Many would gladly eschew material things or attention or fame in order to get it. Jesus' great answer in Matthew's account of this story is 'away with you, Satan'. To seek power is to serve Satan - it is stated that bluntly."
And this is in Magnificat today:
"Where jealousy and selfish ambition exist, there is the temptation to beset the just one with revilement and torture. This is what Jesus reveals to his disciples: he is to be handed over to men and they will kill him. The disciples' response is to squabble among themselves about who was the greatest. Where do the conflicts among you come from? From your passions that make war within, spurring us to kill and envy. Yet, for all our coveting, we do not find satisfaction. So Jesus puts his arms around a child to show us that he calls us to be peaceable, gentle, full of mercy - qualities we receive by asking for them."
"The ways in which animals play had long been studied. Ornithologists had observed many types of bird play, such as when they hang upside down from tree branches and swing back and forth with apparent glee. Chimpanzees had been observed playing and chasing each other in ways that looked much like children playing tag. Even some insects had been observed to play. In 1929, August Forel, an influential ant researcher, wrote in his book The Social World of the Ants as Compared to Man: 'On fine, calm days when they are feeling no hunger or any other cause of anxiety, certain ants entertain themselves with sham fights, without doing each other any harm; but these games come to an end directly [if] they are scared. This is one of their most amusing habits.'"
- from How to Tame a Fox (and Build a Dog)
Who knew?
We're having the most lovely weather now, finally. Those insects or tree frogs or whatever they are are singing outside in the night, in a constant hum. Crickets have been heard inside the library for the past three weeks; I had to catch one the other day and put him outside, but I did wait for nice weather to do it.
Dolly's dish has disappeared. It was last seen on Monday at lunch time. I fed her and Annie, then went out to lunch. When I came home, my brother said he couldn't find it anywhere. I have looked in every closet, cupboard, drawer and other ridiculous places. How do these things happen?
We were given a lovely homegrown cabbage! I made this recipe. Very nice.
We found this yellow feather outside. I immediately thought of a goldfinch, but - they are small birds. This is five inches long. Goldfinches are about five and a half, with black wings. Here's a link to a good photo. I'll have to email this to the Audubon Society and see what they say.
This plant is the best hanging plant I've ever had - it never stopped blooming all summer, with no encouragement from me, in the way of fertilizer, I mean. Just water. I tried adjusting the color here, but can't get it right; it's warmer toned than this - more of a dusky rose, and I'll try to take a better photo.
But I don't even know what it is!
"Since the time of Adam's fall, God has this invariable strategy...to draw good out of evil...The cowardice of Pilate, the cunning of Caiaphas, the intriguing, haughty spirit of the priestly leaders and the Scribes and Pharisees were the ladder along which Jesus went to his sacrifice. The tyranny of the Caesars during the first three centuries of the Church gave rise to the multitude of glorious martyrs. The heretics, who continued the persecutions, gave occasion to that group of Fathers and Doctors of the Church. Thus, in the succession of events, God always draws good out of evil.
What God does on a large scale in history, he does on a small scale in each soul."
- Luis Maria Martinez
"The food we eat, our use of the world, the justice we bring, the art we make, these are the spaces in which the potency of God's grace shows plainly in the lives of those who love him."
- Sarah Clarkson, This Beautiful Truth
I made another zippered pouch.
It's Labor Day. So I'll be Laboring over the chicken thighs roasted with Brussels sprouts, the cornbread, and the zucchini fritters. And the chocolate cake.
Those who love and those who labor
Follow in the way of Christ;
Lo, the bread of heaven is broken
In the sacrament of life.
- from Magnificat, September 2021, from a hymn by Geoffrey Dearmer
The storm moved more to the east and yes, we had lots of torrential rain but not as much as we feared. And, the winds were nothing like predicted for our area. I'm grateful. You know, you plan ahead for something, possibly destructive, and even when it doesn't come to pass, you need a day to just get over/process it, thank God, rest/recover, ponder it - whatever. Yes, you could go on with business as usual, but we are not machines. And we're still feeling the effects of it now, with tropical air and a soaking rain much of the day (but no "rivers" along the fence, as it didn't come down too fast).
A sympathy card came in the mail signed by one of Sweetie's doctors and two other employees there. This is not unheard of, but they each wrote a note inside! I was so sorry to hear about Sweetie. She was a very special cat - and so lucky to have such a loving family to care for her. Be comforted knowing you did everything you could. With sincere sympathy, and signed by the oncology doctor. Somewhere along the way, we'd heard there was a pet cancer center a couple of towns over which we had no idea of. We took her there in early spring, and even though by then Sweetie's tongue was infiltrated by the tumor, she still could move it somewhat and she still wanted to eat. They gave us a pill called Palladia, which is not chemo per se, but it can stop or slow down the cancer's growth. It seemed to, and Sweetie got used to us feeding her. It was a huge learning curve for all three of us, finding what foods were best for using in a syringe and what sizes of syringe are best. I will say that I'd always seen her as a difficult personality (Tortie!) but she surprised me, she was also willing to learn. She had to learn to get used to my brother trying to wash her feet and tail - you can't imagine how gross she got from the litter box. She had to learn to let us feed her, but even when she gave a hard time she'd come back for more food, and she'd always come to us again at night, purring; she did not hold a grudge, she knew we were trying to help.
Well, I don't mean to joke about it; it's heading right for us. Technically, there's a hurricane warning at the coast - we inlanders have a tropical storm warning, but still. A lot of rain, a lot of wind. In these situations I like to cook as much stuff as possible, to have some food in a state of readiness, so to speak. I grated a huge zucchini our neighbor gave us and made a chocolate zucchini cake. I also put handfuls of it into our mac and cheese and there are still eight cups left; it filled a whole mixing bowl.
I've got some bread in the oven and there's a chicken that's defrosted - I'd like to cook it ahead of time. Maybe in the early morning. It might be nice to have some flavored popcorn. All the laundry is done, except for some towels I've been using this evening.
Two days ago we had a spell of torrential rain, and I got my camera. What looked like a small river was rushing along the side yard, to the street.
So, here we go again - I just hope it doesn't flood our property.
Our poor Sweetie passed away on Tuesday. It was a long time that she couldn't groom herself or feed herself and we tried to do it for her, but it was hard.
I had forgotten that she ever weighed this much. We had to break with the traveling vet - she wanted us to euthanize her and she almost had us convinced to do it. But the reality was that Sweetie still wanted to come sleep on our pillows at night, purring like she always had, and even two nights before she died she came in my room, a creature of her little habits. She was a survivor and it was clear to us she wanted to keep going, so we did. And our local vet understood this.
Fly away, little Tweetie Bird, fly away! Rest in peace.
Today was the most beautiful of days, not because we've never had such a day, but because it was more welcome after the previous several. Another cool night awaits.
Then stay with us when evening comes
And darkness makes us blind,
O stay until the light of dawn
May fill both heart and mind.
- Ralph Wright, from Magnificat, August 2021
The windows are open, the air is cool. I may even get chilly tonight. What a relief, from the awful hot, humid days we’ve been having.
I think these tomatoes are beautiful, even though a bit gnarly. They're not ours. All the rain last month was too much for several of our plants; not the best gardening year for us.
I made a zip pouch today, using a different method and I like it much better.
The previous one had hand stitching near the zipper, and kept getting caught in it - this is neater. The lining is from an old skirt of my mother's and the print is from Debra. I think the green zipper makes a nice color combination.
I'm finishing up A Circle of Quiet, and here she's talking about how we want to excuse ourselves when we do something wrong:
"We need to be forgiven:
we need to be forgiven in this grey atmosphere which clogs the lungs [c1972] so that we cannot breathe, and breathless, spiritless, can no longer discern what is right and what is wrong, what is our right hand and what is our left, what is justice and what tyranny, what is life and what is death.
I heard a man of brilliance cry out that God has withdrawn from nations when they have turned from Him, and surely we are a stiff-necked people; why should He not withdraw?"
- Madeleine L'Engle
My brother came in from doing yardwork and said he discovered grape vines growing across the brook. And grapes, planted by the birds, and he only found them after trying to remove some overgrown bittersweet vines - there were grape leaves, and grapes, behind a rhododendron and some arbor vitaes. I put on my little wellies and went out to see.
I realized I haven't seen any rabbits for several days, when they're usually around somewhere. Then it dawned on me that perhaps there are babies, and the family is laying low. So, I will be patient and hope to see some little bunnies in a couple of weeks, possibly.
This afternoon my brother called to me, to come to his window quickly, and look out. What did I see but a dinosaur walking down our street. I'm not kidding! It was one of the upright ones, T. Rex or something, but no worries because there was someone walking along with it. Of course we both said get a camera! but I had cat food on my fingers and was rather stunned anyway; it isn't every day - you know. But we both came to ourselves rather late and with our cameras ran out into the road.
It was quite tall, as you can see. I remember one year before my neighbor-friend moved to Maryland - she called me one day to say a young deer had strolled up our street, and it seems she was the only one to witness it. This tops that story, I think.
"In the Holy Eucharist, our Lord is not the master who commands; he is not the king who gives orders and whom we cannot resist without incurring penalty. He is a friend, the friend who loves us madly from all eternity; a friend who since our birth has never ceased pursuing us with his love, crying out: My child, my brother, give me your heart. He is a devoted friend who has extended his arms for long years without becoming discouraged by our indifference and our refusal; for all that, a friend who can expect nothing from us, from whom we hold everything, who still prepares us for gifts without number, so that finally he will introduce us into his Kingdom, give us a share in his glory and his eternity, allow us to sit by his side, open his heart to us, and unite us to himself so closely that, according to his own words, we become one with him, just as he and Heavenly Father are one.
Well, represent to yourself, or rather imagine that's what it is, because it is the reality; imagine that you are going to receive a friend with no equal in the world, from whom you have been separated for some forty years, by your own fault; imagine that you have had some wrongs against him which he has completely forgotten, that he is eager to receive you into his arms, to press you to his heart, to give himself to you, to unite you to himself in the closest way possible in this world, to renew with you the relationships of a hearty, eternal friendship."
- Blessed Jean-Joseph Lataste, from Magnificat, August 2021
Having finished the moving and dramatic story about The Dean's Watch, I've gone back to the safe and quiet Miss Read, where I'm going through the Thrush Green novels we have at the library, which isn't all of them, just the ones we own - I think I have four left. It's a little disconcerting to read them out of order; I've picked them up alphabetically, the way they were sitting on the shelf, and didn't think too much about it when I started. Now I may as well continue that way.
As for Mariner, I *really* like it, but you may be amazed when I tell you it's about Coleridge's Rime of the Ancient Mariner - I am certainly amazed that I could enjoy such a book! We read Piranesi with Joy Clarkson's podcast and she had Malcolm Guite (author of the aforementioned) on one episode while they talked about a connection with the Rime and he said he'd written a book about Coleridge and how his life echoed the poem he was later to write. So, I ordered the book because I was intrigued by the conversation, mainly. When it arrived I was dismayed by the size - I tend to avoid thicker books but, too late - I owned the thing. Well, it is Very interesting.
They've had ground turkey on sale every week lately at the supermarket so I've been getting it, but without having any real expertise with it. I made a meatloaf last week but it was awful; somebody somewhere said you should try to not overmix it, but that isn't easy. I decided that mushy bread crumbs might not help the situation, so today I made meatballs using quick oats and I lightly and carefully mixed. They were good! I think I've got it.
There was a beautiful sunset the other night, all fiery purples.
"Until now life for him had meant the aridity of earthly duty and the dews of God. Now he was aware of something else, a world that was neither earth nor heaven, a heartbreaking, fabulous, lovely world where the conies take refuge in the rainbowed hills and in the deep valleys of the unicorns the songs are sung that men hear in dreams, the world that the poets know and the men who make music. Job's world. Isaac's world. The autumn song of the robin could let you in, or a shower of rain or a hobby-horse lying on a green lawn."
Or a phrase written by the late, great Elizabeth Goudge. From The Dean's Watch.
Note to self: resist adding too many noodles to the pot when making soup. I've done this more than once - it was fine, but really, today's chicken soup didn't need quite so much pasta.
And I also made ice cream. Clare, this is for you! This is the recipe, I've made it many times and it's adaptable to what you've got in the fridge. This is what I did:
In the blender, I whizzed:
I found a very pretty hanging plant at the supermarket, but since I brought it home it's been looking bedraggled.
Now the rain has eased, and it can perk up again. I don't know what it is - the true color is a little warmer than this.
From The Dean's Watch:
"With renewed civilities the three old gentlemen bowed to each other and the door was at last closed. Politeness was important in the city in those days. There was time for it."
And, "As I see it, there is no giving without giving away. But joy is a homing pigeon."
This was in Magnificat today:
For those who wander in the deserts of disbelief and despair,
Lead your people home!
For those who browse for food in the pastures of untruth,
Lead your people home!
For those who do not know that they are lost,
Lead your people home!
There were two more thunderstorms last night, with loads of rain in attendance. I lay there during the first one around 2:15 amid the flashings and thunderings, and wondered how high the brook was getting, and if we'd see the bridge overturned in the morning. The next was an hour later, but mild in comparison. This morning, all appeared normal. But you can hear the rushing of the water from the house; if I wasn't nursing a headache I'd go out and film it for you, but, maybe tomorrow.
May the God in whose ways our fathers Abraham and Isaac walked,
the God who has been our shepherd from our birth to this day,
the Angel who has delivered us from all harm,
bless us and keep us in peace. Amen
We have had so much rain lately - so much. Everything has an overgrown, semi-tropical look outside, and thunderstorms! We have thunderstorms almost every day - for weeks! I'm not exaggerating.
Yesterday they issued a flash flood watch for this afternoon, through till tomorrow evening, so I decided to hurriedly make a grocery delivery order, rather than go out in rough weather. Glad I did, because it rained and thundered and rained more until I could see, from the kitchen window, the brook rushing right under the bridge. The brook isn't level with the ground - it's a couple of feet down, but the water level was up there all right. And on the street, the storm drain at the end of the driveway was overflowing, not to mention a "stream" which ran down the side of our yard along the fence, a path the brook originally took before being diverted by the developers, but it seems to still remember. My brother voiced concern that if the water overturned the bridge, it might end up damming the brook. And then there would be a mess. That was three hours ago - I can't see the water anymore from the window. I've been looking at photos from the flooding in Belgium - may God have mercy on them.
Just like last month wasn't very June-like (much hotter than normal), this month doesn't much feel like July - it's way too wet, and swings from hot and very humid to cooler than normal. It isn't nice enough to spend much time outside. I wonder what August will bring.
Give thanks to the Lord, for he is good,
for his mercy endures forever.
Who split the Red Sea in twain,
for his mercy endures forever;
And led Israel through its midst,
for his mercy endures forever;
But swept Pharaoh and his army into the Red Sea,
for his mercy endures forever.
- from Psalm 136
"...Miss Montague sat apparently idle, her hands caressing the cat in her lap. Beyond the west window, behind the steep old roofs of Worship Street, the last of a fiery frosty sunset was burning itself out....Motionless in her chair Miss Montague left her room and went up and down the streets of the city, seeing the remembered pattern of its roofs against the sky,...knowing as she turned each corner exactly what she would see, for she had the city by heart....If anyone at this moment was thinking of her it was as a very old woman who never left her house except to go to the Cathedral in her Bath chair when she was well enough, and perhaps they pitied her. They did not know how vivid are the memories of the old and that only the young are homebound when they can't go out."
- Elizabeth Goudge, The Dean's Watch
I'm moving along with The Dean's Watch, and that last line really struck me. I love Elizabeth Goudge and have read several of her books, also this seems to be a favorite with many. But when I bought it last year I couldn't bear what seemed to me a heavy, gloomy atmosphere - so I put it away, surprised and disappointed. Meanwhile, I'm participating in this reading challenge; one of the things is a book I've avoided. Well, this was it, and you know, I'm really enjoying it now. There is a proper time and place for everything.
I worked on my dress today, carefully hand stitching the lace to the area somewhere near the neckline seam, if that's the right term for it. It's where the bias binding is sewn to the neck; I decided to attach it only there and leave it free everywhere else. I decided the other day to do my sewing or something creative for an hour first, before other things. It's nice - I took my time and forgot about everything else.
It's the feast of St. Bonaventure today -
"When we pray, the voice of the heart must be heard more than the proceedings from the mouth."
It's also Rembrandt's birthday. I hope the two of them are in the same place.
Almighty God, your word is cast
Like seed into the ground,
Now let the dew of heav'n descend
And righteous fruits abound.
I think this is how I'm going to do the lace "collar"
I first pinned the sections further back at the shoulder seam, with a gap in the middle of the neckline; that looked all right, but then I thought I could maybe gather a length of it and stitch it along the whole front of the dress, but it didn't take long for me to change my mind about that - it might be clownish. So, I tried it like this. I don't mind that the sections don't reach to the shoulder seam, as I am aiming for a funky collar look, anyway. I'm not trying to make it look real. So, the upper edge of the lace pieces is just folded over the neckline and I guess I'm just going to hand-stitch it in place. I didn't know any other way to do it - I felt I had to bind the neckline first as I usually do and then figure out the lace. I've sewn several versions of this pattern (over-the-head, a-line dress), and I like finding ways of making each one distinct.
Okay, now this will be one of the strangest things you've seen this year.
This is a skirt. It's a heavyish cotton knit, in a "natural" background color, with blue and white flowers. I'd noticed a slight stain, visible only to me probably, but I put it in the Oxi Clean to soak and got lazy and left it there more than two weeks. But along the way, I thought it had turned this light purplish color. Now, I'm always soaking something or other in Oxi Clean and the only thing it does is get the stain out, eventually. This skirt is entirely made of cotton. I saw it in there, and thought, well, I suppose I won't mind having a skirt in that pretty shade, but I was in a lazy spell and I still left it in the Oxi Clean. I even threw in some other items, and stirred things up. This didn't affect anything else in this way, but some of the purple skirt stuck up into the air, and when I finally took it out, the part in the water was purply, but not the rest. As you see, above.
Well. I rinsed it out, and decided to just pin it up on the clothesline and figure out what to do with it when it dried. Well! It's fine now! If this isn't the weirdest episode in my history of doing laundry, nothing else could be. I did notice that when I hung it outside, it was getting dark and it seemed almost phosphorescent. I suppose there's an explanation for it, and I'd like to hear it. But anyway, the stain is gone - ha! I should hope so, considering how long it soaked. And the skirt is put away for now. And I refuse to be afraid of Oxi Clean.
"For the first time a nation sprang forth, not simply from the bond of people living together in a place for years, but rather from an idea, the principle of the truth of the human person as sacred and unrepeatable. The Declaration acknowledged our origin as beings made by God, with rights God himself gave us. It is God's law - his plan - that declares unequivocally that at our creation by the divine hand rests our equal liberty and the rights inherent in us as God's creatures. Our liberty arises not from us, but from the one who made us."
- Anne Husted Burleigh, from Magnificat, July 2021
"Freedom is never more than one generation away from extinction. We didn't pass it to our children in the bloodstream. It must be fought for, protected, and handed on for them to do the same, or one day we will spend our sunset years telling our children and our children's children what it was once like in the United States where men were free."
- Ronald Reagan
This is my book pile this month.
I often have the intention to come here and post, and then something gets in the way. It could be tiredness, computer troubles, interruptions - whatever it is, I wonder if I need a new schedule.
Three weeks in a row I've gotten fresh strawberries. First, I made shortcake. Last week I made some freezer jam.
But this time, I think we should just eat them.
