a little more respect for St. Martha

 Saturday was the feast of saints Martha, Mary and Lazarus. Martha's behavior in the bible story always gets the critical eye, doesn't it? Jesus told her that her concern for earthly things was inferior to a concern for spiritual ones. And we always think of her slightingly when her name is mentioned. As if we are any different. 

Anyway, Magnificat had a hymn for that day which shows her in a different light, which seemed rather nice for a change. 

Saint Martha, we recall the joy
Of which your energy gave proof,
When opportunity was yours
To welcome Christ beneath your roof.

Alert and eager with much care,
Your ardent soul could find no rest,
In many things solicitous
To please so greatly loved a Guest.

While you prepare a festal board
At which he will have honored place,
Your brother and your sister draw
From him the food of life and grace.

O blessed hostess of your Lord,
Make our hearts ready like your own,
To welcome him to their abode
To find in them true friendship's throne.

-  Anselme Lentini *

translated by the nuns of St. Cecilia Abbey, Isle of Wight

From Magnificat, July 2023 -

You have called some to the service of work and some to the service of prayer:
                             - grant us mutual respect and support as we seek to further your kingdom.

You have called some to serve in public ways and some to serve in the privacy of the home:
                             - keep us all faithful to the tasks you have given us.

You have called some to serve in active ways and some to serve by suffering:
                             - sustain us all in faith, hope and love.

                                                   in Jesus' name. Amen.

soggy plants, so much rain, and insects

 The cover on my new copy of Gentian Hill. It's certainly better than the other copy. But it doesn't illustrate (no pun intended) what the story's about, in my view. If I were an artist I'd paint a view of the town, the bay, the ships. The beautiful English scenery, which seems to be a character in her books, much of the time. 

We had a most beautiful weekend, with less humidity and lovely sunshine; we'd been waiting for it all summer. Now the humid air is back, and so the air conditioning. We had a thunderstorm today, too. More rain. The garden is a washout and I think I should get the wood for some raised beds. A long story, to be told later. Rosemary isn't looking too good.

My brother's kitchen garden is better, since the soil isn't as heavy, but the tomato plants aren't getting as tall as they should and the tomatoes are resting on the ground. We have to pick them before they're ripe or they'll rot. This is most unusual. 

My dress is barely coming along, but today I finished the understitching. I think I may have to topstitch around the neck edge to make it lay flat. I really don't like doing it. Do people who can whip up a dress in a day or two just ignore the housework? Or maybe they have a cook, or a housekeeper. 

A couple of nights ago I saw a few fireflies, so they're still around, but dwindling. 

There's always a chance, when you read a science book about a subject, that the romance of it will wane for you - the magic is "explained". This book is very interesting, and the author loves her subject. So, I'll try not to let it spoil my enchantment with fireflies. I know she means well. Books written by naturalists, on the other hand, seem to find a nice balance between the two: science fact and poetry.

"Summer belongs to the insects, and in the drowsy heat of July and August, when I walk southward over the brown road from Morgan Creek to Lone Field, I am never out of hearing of the buzzing of meadow grasshoppers, the whirring wasps. the droning of bees at the old field flowers. Birds sing early. The awakening whistle of quail comes at dawn from the hedges, and in the cool, green woods, the redstarts, summer tanagers, and red-eyed vireos sing long before the heat waves shimmer over the road and the sun has burned away the morning mists. But it is the insects that proclaim high summer, and at noon of days when the temperature rises to more than 100 degrees they are fiercely active."

                                             -  John K. Terres, From Laurel Hill to Siler's Bog

before the time of ripeness

"Despite the nervous scramble of the servants when they discover weeds growing in his field, the master of the house himself does not appear the least disconcerted by this sudden report of sabotage. He immediately knows who has sown the weeds, and the calmness of his reaction hints that, even before he sowed his wheat, he must have realized the probability of such a hostile act occurring. Nevertheless, sow it he did....But the real surprise comes at the master's reaction when the servants, overcome by anxiety, want to dash into the field and pull out the weeds on the spot. Rather than becoming obsessed like them with the presence of evil, the serene farmer....does not think that the power of the weeds to choke is superior to the power of the wheat to grow and thrive....

An abstract conception of 'evil' can trigger in us a reckless compulsion to purge our world prematurely "literally so: before the time of ripeness), according to our own notions of purity and impurity. We always assume, of course, that we are ourselves among the pure, the children of the light, and that we are therefore born purfiers; and yet our very compulsion to purify at all costs bespeaks an ignorance of the essential, which is life and its growth, and also betrays an interior fear of contamination. Rather than abiding secure in my identity as son of the kingdom and one born of God, I seek to eradicate what I most fear for myself, what I fear is perhaps already lurking within me.

The master, by contrast, reacts with prudence and patience in the face of evil. While the fanatical servants want to destroy in the name of purification, the wise Lord wants to preserve, in the name of life. His ultimate objective is to save as much as possible for the harvest. The fact that there is disharmony, vitiation, in the field of the Church and of the world is apparent to all, but only the Lord of the field and of the harvest can see beyong the confused present state of things. The disciples are prompt to take purgation (and, hence, God's judgment) into their own hands. But only on God's explicit command may they intervene radically in the stage of the world, when and as he orders. Until the time of the harvest at the end of the age, it is their business to preach the Gospel of repentance, both to themselves and to the world. Jesus' explicit commands to them have nothing to do with judging and purging. Quite on the contrary, his last words to them would be: Go and make disciples of all nations."

                                            -  Erasmo Leivo-Merikakis

embracing the cosmos

 
"The reign of God, sown like an insignificant seed at the burial of Jesus condemned as a criminal, has grown into a tree whose branches embrace the cosmos and all that is in it through the Resurrection. His name, known first to only a handful of followers, is now praised by people of every race and nation."

                                                            - from Magnificat, July 2023

garden tribulation

Well, I finished reading Kidnapped - I never expected such an abrupt ending! It seemed so strange, that I googled it to see if there is any conversation on the subject. And, as it turns out, there is a sequel! I guess I'll have to read that one, too. 

We've had excessive humidity nonstop for what seems like a month; maybe it's three weeks. Usually, the temperature goes up, the air is dry the first day, and if the heat continues, humidity will creep in. After a few days, we get a break. That is more or less how our summers go, and of course things change up year to year. And the brook will often dry up by August. But there is no drought here now - more like rain every day for a spell, and yesterday while we were at Mass, it poured so hard that people coming in had big wet spots on their clothing and water was running like a stream along the side of our property. I just dug up a sad rosemary plant from the back garden which hasn't grown at all since I planted it - at least two months ago. I know these mediterranean herbs don't like a heavy soil, which is what we have; this evening when I went outside to rescue it, there was standing water in the garden. More about that another time.

The side, kitchen garden has better soil and we've got some beans coming in now - they are favas - I've never liked them very well. (I'm a poor sort of Italian: don't like favs, mozzarella, or even cannoli.) But anyway, I'll eat them - it's a vegetable, it's food. 

Meanwhile, you-know-who was dropping some onto the floor, from one of her reconnaissance trips along the counter. The sooner I get them cooked, the better.

"Preserve the warmth of the family, because the warmth of the whole world cannot make up for it."

- St. Sharbel Makhluf

plugging along

I am still reading the naturalist's journal of his time in North Carolina, still going through the Adams/Jefferson letters. In between, I am re-reading Elizabeth Goudge's Gentian Hill, which is in terrible shape and coming apart.

The cover, anyway, gives no idea of what's within the pages. I ordered a new one.

With the Literary Life podcast, we've got Kidnapped, which is quite an exciting adventure. Our library copy has illustrations by N.C. Wyeth. Where are the authors like Stevenson today?

Meanwhile, my dress is coming along slowly, and now I have to understitch the bodice facing, which I like to do by hand. 

This was in Magnificat a few days ago -

Forth in the peace of Christ we go;
Christ to the world with joy we bring;
Christ in our minds, Christ on our lips,
Christ in our hearts, the world's true King.

It sounds cheerful, and encouraging. I like it! 

for the precious things of the earth

 Blessed of the Lord be His land,
for the precious things of heaven,
for the dew,
and for the deep that coucheth beneath.

And for the precious fruits brought forth by the sun,
and for the precious things put forth by the moon,

And for the chief things of the ancient mountains,
and for the precious things of the lasting hills,

And for the precious things of the earth and fulness thereof,
and for the good will of Him that dwelt in the bush....

Thy shoes shall be iron and brass; and as thy days so shall thy strength be....

The eternal God is thy refuge, and underneath are the everlasting arms.

- Gentian Hill, by Elizabeth Goudge, from Deuteronomy 33

always learning

 Imagine that you're brushing your teeth at the bathroom sink, your head just turns to the left. You meet the eyes of .....

stock photo - cameras and toothpaste don't mix

the apprentice. 

I should probably go back to shutting the door.

I'd never seen it before

 A man came into the library carrying a box of books; said he'd called on Monday, but I wasn't there on Monday; I didn't know about it. He had the Oxford English Dictionary, the whole thing. The Whole Thing.

They were moving. He had a helper, and they brought in four boxes of it; he seemed wistful over the business. He said they're moving to a smaller place. I said well, you can buy the version with the magnifying glass, right? He said It's not the same. A likeable fellow, he was looking at it fondly, said it didn't get used much, but the kids did look up things in it now and again. 

He even told me what they're selling it for on Amazon: fifteen hundred dollars. But on ebay, nine hundred. He wondered if anyone would really buy it for that. (I don't know what he paid for his new one) Finally, he sighed, touched one of the boxes a last time, and left. A pleasant fellow.

Afterward, I called the director in her office. She didn't know about it, but no, we weren't going to keep it. The Friends of the Library will try to sell it somehow. But no sooner had I hung up the phone, than she trotted down the hall to have a look. We were touching it. The OED, for heaven's sake! In pristine condition. Then I said, I suppose I should take a picture!

And so I did.

July 4th

 "While you live, I seem to have a bank at Monticello on which I can draw for a letter of friendship and entertainment when I please.

I know not how to prove physically that we shall meet and know each other in a future state, nor does revelation, as I can find give us any positive assurance of such a felicity. My reasons for believing it, as I do, most undoubtingly are all moral and divine."

                                                           - John Adams, in a letter to Thomas Jefferson, Dec. 8, 1818

they both died on this date, in 1826

crab cakes for dinner

 I strained my back a week ago, and didn't feel like going to the supermarket the other day, so I got a delivery. While perusing the specials, I was excited to see tins of crabmeat for half price! It's generally around thirty dollars a pound, so I ordered it. 

Crab cakes! I found a recipe, cut up some cuke and tomato and made some quick bean soup. They kind of fell apart, but were so nice and filling.

Sunday ups and downs

 Today during Mass one of the hymns was a surprise. Several years ago a local radio station played the top forty Christian songs every week, until we stopped listening - I never liked any of them, not liking popular Christian music. Except one, and every time it came on the radio would get turned up. And it's found its way into our hymnal.

And then we sang America the Beautiful at the end. But when, in the second verse it says, Confirm thy soul in self-control, I got too choked up - this seems like a lost concept now.