the back view

 Moses said, "Show me your glory, I pray." And he [God] said, "I will make all my goodness pass before you, and will proclaim before you the name, 'The Lord'; and I will be gracious to whom I will be gracious, and will show mercy on whom I will show mercy. But", he said, "you cannot see my face; for no one shall see me and live.....you shall see my back; but my face shall not be seen."

                                        Exodus 33: 18, 19, 20, 23b

"God indeed can be seen in this life, but only indirectly, through his creatures and effects. We can understand him to a degree, but only obliquely, glimpsing him, as it were, out of the corners of our eyes. We see his "back" as it is disclosed in the beauty, the intelligibility, and the contingency of the world that he has made."

                                                             -  Bishop Robert Barron

"Shall I tell the secret of the whole world? It is that we have only known the back of the world. We see everything from behind, and it looks brutal. That is not a tree, but the back of a tree. That is not a cloud, but the back of a cloud. Cannot you see that everything is stooping and hiding a face? If we could only get round in front."

                                               -   G.K. Chesterton

looking for answers

 

I forgot a book which belongs in this pile - Silence and Honey Cakes, written by Rowan Williams. I'm liking it WAY more than I expected to. 

Monastery and High Cross is about something which may surprise you. From the back cover:

"It is a little-known fact that there were Christians in Ireland before St. Patrick. In 2006, an astonishing discovery was made in Ireland. Found by accident in a peat bog [of course, a peat bog - where else?] was an early medieval Irish manuscript with Egyptian papyrus in the binding of the manuscript? How did that get there?"

How, indeed? Connie Marshner, the author, will tell me how. 

My brother called to me this morning: Come quickly with your camera - there's a woodchuck eating a carrot!

He was right near the house, close to the bird feeder. We are still throwing carrots outside for the rabbits some nights, and I'd just been wondering who else would eat a carrot.

He was a good-sized one.

These creatures are also called groundhogs. They don't ever chuck wood, that I know of. 

How much wood
Would a woodchuck chuck
If a woodchuck
Could chuck
Wood?

puddles and puzzles

 It rained all day, and everything is puddled. It was a winter rain, it couldn't be described as a spring shower, at all. But I used the oven and made chicken tetrazzini, to warm us up.

The crabapple tree is full of crabapples - I don't know what to do about it. They should have been eaten, or fallen down, right? In a month, these trees should be blooming, and will the fruits get in the way? Will they cause a problem. I'll have to go outside and examine it up close. Did they go bad? We'll have to find out.

And on the subject of trees, our young kousa dogwood seems to have the bark gone near the bottom part - we assume it's our rabbit neighbors, since they're known to eat tender bark in the winter. We'll see how that tree does, if it can continue without the bark. Also, my brother says they chewed his blueberry bushes down to the nub. Live and learn. We enjoy our rabbit friends, and we'll work on ways to live together. 

flicker at the feeder

From this morning's reading, on John 13:34 -

"God is love. God is self-emptying on behalf of the other. But this means paradoxically that to have God is to be what God is - and that means giving one's life away.

Now we see the link between joy and commandments; I give you a new commandment, that you love one another. Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another. And now we begin to understand the laws, commands, and demands of the Church. All are designed to make us more adept at love, at giving ourselves away. Don't steal; don't kill; don't covet your neighbor's goods or wife; honor your mother and father, worship God. All of these commands - positive and negative - are meant to awaken love and make it possible."

                                -  Bishop Robert Barron

"what our Lenten journey is for"

 "It's worth reflecting on the idea that certain things and certain things only have been 'assigned to our brush', given us to work with, know and describe. It reminds me strongly of the Prayer Book petition that we should 'do all such good works as thou hast prepared for us to walk in'. Most of us are under pressure, external and internal, to do everything, be good at everything, be accountable to everyone for everything! It is not so. In the divine economy each of us has a particular grace, gift and devotion. Finding out what that is, and learning how to be guilt-free about not doing everything else, may be part of what our Lenten journey is for."*

                                       -  Malcolm Guite, The Word in the Wilderness, Sunday, 3rd week of Lent

*The emphasis is mine.

creature discomforts

 Daisy knocked one of the kitchen curtains on the floor -

There is one squirrel who isn't baffled by the - well, the squirrel baffle.

Clever fellow.

On another note, Annie chased a crumpled paper and brought it back to me seven times, and the daffodils are getting ready to appear.

an Irish poem

 and a very well-known one, for St. Patrick's Day.

The Song of Wandering Aengus

I went out to the hazel wood,
Because a fire was in my head,
And cut and peeled a hazel wand,
And hooked a berry to a thread;

And when white moths were on the wing,
And moth-like stars were flickering out,
I dropped the berry in a stream
And caught a little silver trout.

When I had laid it on the floor
I went to blow the fire a-flame,
But something rustled on the floor,
And someone called me by my name:

It had become a glimmering girl
With apple blossom in her hair
Who called me by my name and ran
And faded through the brightening air.

Though I am old with wandering
Through hollow lands and hilly lands,
I will find out where she has gone,
And kiss her lips and take her hands;

And walk among long dappled grass,
And pluck till time and times are done
The silver apples of the moon,
The golden apples of the sun.

-  William Butler Yeats

This poem is the basis for a meditation in Malcolm Guite's book of Lenten poetry, "The Word in the Wilderness". He says:

"We may go on pilgrimage, or wander in the wilderness in pursuit of a vision, but it is also usually the glimpse of a vision, the apprehension of 'something more', the half-heard voice, that seems to call to us in the first place and start us on our journey. ..For Yeats, Aengus represents perhaps not just the poet but every questing soul, and he is the one who retains his vision in spite of never, in this life, having it completely fulfilled. ..For every Christian, there is both a first vision and an unfulfilled 'not yet', and we must all say, in the words of another Irishman also indebted to Yeats, 'I still haven't found what I'm looking for.' ..The poet who thinks he has caught a trout has himself been caught, and will be drawn for the rest of his life on a line of desire and longing. 'And someone called me by my name.' For that is indeed the theme of this poem. Here we come to the heart meaning of the word 'vocation.' A vocation is a calling, and to have a Christian vocation is to have been called, called by name. The Lord of life and love calls us into being, calls us out of darkness into light, and calls us, personally, to turn and begin our lives anew in him."

                                                         -  Malcolm Guite, The Word in the Wilderness

on the horizon

 "Down through the centuries and generations it has been seen that in suffering there is concealed a particular power that draws a person interiorly close to Christ, a special grace. .To this grace...many saints owe their conversion. A result of such a conversion is ...that he becomes a completely new person. He discovers a new dimension, as it were, of his entire life and vocation. When this body is gravely ill, totally incapacitated, and the person is almost incapable of living and acting, all the more do interior maturity and spiritual greatness become evident, constituting a touching lesson to those who are healthy and normal. 

To the suffering brother or sister Christ discloses and gradually reveals the horizons of the kingdom of God: the horizons of a world converted to the Creator, of a world free from sin, a world being built on the saving power of love."

                                                            -  Pope John Paul II

"He will transform the body of our humiliation that it may be conformed to the body of his glory, by the power that also enables him to make all things subject to himself."

                                               St. Paul's letter to the Philippians, chapter 3 verse 21

a happy accident

 There were some cranberries in the freezer which I decided to use up, and looking through my pinterest recipes, I found a cranberry bread with orange juice in it - sounded good. I mixed it up, but then noticed it looked funny in the oven; it didn't rise up the way it was supposed to, and I knew I hadn't forgotten the baking powder. Well, it turns out I'd put in one cup of flour instead of two. What a waste! I picked at it, thinking I'd have to chuck it when it cooled, and I was suddenly reminded of what my mother used to refer to as cottage pudding. But it was getting late, so I stuck it in the fridge. That was days ago.

Today I pulled it out, and while I pondered the situation, I had another bite - it really was pretty good. More dense and moist than regular cake, but nice and tart from the cranberries and OJ. I cut it into thick pieces and put it in the freezer. And, just like that, I know what's for Easter dessert! All it needs is a sauce of some sort - maybe I'll splurge on lemon curd.

pins and providence

"You 'flee' to the desert not to escape neighbors but to grasp more fully what the neighbor is - the way of life for you, to the degree that you put yourself at their disposal in connecting them with God."

                                      -  Rowan Williams, Silence and Honey Cakes

 I've been looking at the grass - it's brown everywhere. But when I stare at it, I notice that it is turning. It wants to turn green! Meanwhile, the month is half over and it hasn't been bad, just some wild wind now and again. There was a blizzard, but it wasn't here.

I always feel discombobulated after going out in the middle of the day. Like I've lost my tempo, have to regroup. But I managed to change the sheets, do the laundry, wash dishes, iron, provide some supper - and do some reading. A minimum.

"'What does providence mean?' asked Meg.

'Good management,' said Lucilla. 'It's also a name we give to God when His management is not what ours would have been under the circumstances.'"

                             -  from The Heart of the Home, by Eliz. Goudge

I cut out the pieces for my next skirt, but realized I should iron it before anything else. It was beautiful out, and I am weeding wintery sweaters from my closet, one by one. Last month was very cold, and the library was especially chilly for some reason - I discovered that revived a few shawls which have languished for years in drawers and the closet. But I was needing a shawl pin, so I found a few on Amazon and wore one as a pin the other day.

A bird on a branch - nice and springy.

home again

"We were made for home, and one of the first commands God gave the people newly created in his image was simply to rule and subdue (order) the good earth that was their home. .. One of the first consequences of sin and suffering in the world was the loss of belonging, the loss of the precious place for which humanity was created. It was the loss of home, and to be wanderers in the vast and distorted world was the essence of what it meant to be separated from God. ...However, when Christ came, ...the Spirit of God walked abroad in human flesh, and where Jesus went, heaven was. Where Jesus went, the cosmos was reclaimed for love. Where Jesus went, people were fed and bodies were healed and creation made whole. Where Jesus was, the earth seemed to be made a home again."

                                                 
                                                                -  Sarah Clarkson, This Beautiful Truth

something to chew on

 I keep saying the wind is howling, but it keeps howling. So, what else is there to say? It's absolutely pointless to plan any outside activity - the wind would be working against you. It seems to have caused havoc in Boston. 

On the coldest nights, my brother threw carrot chunks out near the bird feeder. He did this after we saw a rabbit eating bird seed while frozen snow was on the ground. I told him that, since vegetables contain so much water, they would freeze and be too hard to eat - not so. The rabbits came along and chewed them happily. They'd come right after dark, stay and chew for a while, then disappear. Only to return the next time we looked out. They seem to stay up all night doing this, coming and going, snacking. After a couple of nights, two opossums were there, getting bird seed from the ground. That went on for a couple of days, and then a very large raccoon appeared, looking like he was hunting for grubs. And I haven't seen a rabbit since. But they are taking the carrots, so I suppose they're being more careful. A raccoon is a sometime predator of rabbits.

I bought some rayon for another skirt

The green is a bit greener than this, but still a soft shade.

Since I got Malcolm Guite's The Word in the Wilderness: a Poem a Day for Lent and Easter, I use it, and so far haven't tired of it. The sonnet for today has to do with the devil's second tempation of Jesus in the desert wilderness. 

All the Kingdoms of the World

So here's the deal and this is what you get:
The penthouse suite with world-commanding views,
The banker's bonus and the private jet,
Control and ownership of all the news,
An 'in' to that exclusive one per cent,
Who know the score, who really run the show,
With interest on every penny lent
And sweeteners for cronies in the know.
A straight arrangement between me and you,
No hell below or heaven high above,
You just admit it, and give me my due,
And wake up from this foolish dream of love...
But Jesus laughed, 'You are not what you seem.
Love is the waking life, you are the dream.'

- Malcolm Guite

"Then the devil led him and showed him in an instant all the kingdoms of the world. And the devil said to him, 'To you I will give their glory and all this authority; for it has been given over to me and I give it to anyone I please. If you, then, will worship me, it will all be yours.'"

-  Luke 4:5-7

we have today

 I slept with my window open last night. It didn't get below fifty, although the wind was forceful and there was rain. It actually got up to sixty two today, for a while. Now the wind is blowing like crazy again, and colder air is coming back - this is normal for March. But the warm spells are so enticing.

I finished my skirt the other day, and got the waistband just right, thankfully. I used elastic, since this fabric is a knit - a zipper wasn't necessary. I am not going to hem it. Knits don't fray, and I'd rather not add bulk to the bottom by turning it under - I don't think anybody is going to notice. So today I took the leftover and walked around the house with it to see if the colors would look nice anywhere. The spare bedroom has a small pillow which needs a cover, and the velvet was pretty with the bedspread, so I haphazardly made a zippered cover. 

That background color was advertised as brown, but it's dark red to me - at least, a reddish brown. But at least I found a use for some of the leftover. 

I noticed this on the back cover of Plough's winter issue:

"Someday, all of us will spend our lives in our own school, the world. And education - in the sense of learning to love, to grow, to change - can become not the woeful preparation for some job that makes us less than we could be but the very essence, the joyful whole of existence itself."

                                -   Marshall McLuhan

I never look on back covers. 

It's Lent again.

"Faith is a strange thing. In our little church one feels it strong and firm among the farm people and the retired people and the city week-enders who have been able to stagger out for service. To lose faith in the ultimate good in life is to lose life, I thought, as I came down the steep ancient steps of the little white building. The world news may be especially grim, disaster strikes in a home, any one of the ills flesh is heir to may strike us, and it becomes easy to give up. And yet the gathering together of people to pray and worship God, according to their choice of church, whatever it be, is a strong bulwark against defeat and despair.

The very act of saying, 'I believe,' is a renewal of faith. As for the world, it has been in a parlous state so long that there is no sense in worrying about the future. It is better, I think, to go on believing in goodness and beauty and truth and in God, no matter how we define these terms each of us for ourselves.

And better to live a day at a time. This is a hard task, often, for we tend to keep going or the past and trying to live it over again or looking ahead and uselessly trying to forecast tomorrow and next week and next year. But somebody has said all the time we really have is the NOW. We have today. 

Try to use this day well, that is about the sum of it."

                                                                 -  Gladys Taber

Scottish oatmeal - is it really a thing?

 I saw this at the supermarket - Scottish oatmeal. 

Can you see how finely ground it is? Not as fine as flour, but finer than any oats I ever saw. Do the Scots really eat this for breakfast? It must be very mushy; I feel skeptical. But I bought a bag.

It wasn't cheap, but I was so curious about it. I've been putting it into meatballs and meatloaf in lieu of breadcrumbs, and it's perfect for that! But after this bag is done, I'll grind my own.

living in dangerous times

 "Why, as you would have lived in the sixteenth century when the plague visited London almost every year, or as you would have lived in a Viking age when raiders from Scandinavia might land and cut your throat at night.... The first action to take is to pull ourselves together. If we are all going to be destroyed by an atomic bomb, let that bomb come when it comes find us doing sensible and human things - praying, working, teaching, reading, listening to music, bathing the children, playing tennis, chatting to our friends over a pint and a game of darts - not huddled together like frightened sheep and thinking about bombs. They may break our bodies (a microbe can do that) but they need not dominate our minds."

                                                       -    C.S. Lewis, On Living in an Atomic Age

The clouds of judgment gather,
The time is growing late;
Be sober and be watchful;
Our Judge is at the gate:
The Judge who comes in mercy,
The Judge who comes in might
To put an end to evil
And diadem the right.

- Bernard of Morlaix, 12th century

hello, March

This morning I thought March was coming in like a lamb, but there are twenty-four hours in a day, and by mid-afternoon the wind was roaring, the clouds rolled in and it's supposed to be twenty-nine degrees by nine o'clock. That's a lion. That is March in New England. I couldn't believe how mild it was earlier - sixty-two degrees - and the cats and I really enjoyed the open windows, but I wore boots to the supermarket, because snow was predicted for late afternoon. It didn't happen.

I was reading a substack post today, and the person quoted a paragraph from a Mary Oliver poem. One line caught my fancy:

"In March, the earth remembers its own name."

Yes, the earth around here is waking up. But not tomorrow; it's going to be in the twenties, and tonight my brother threw out some carrot chunks for the rabbits; they do come!

this squirrel stayed still here for so long, I wondered if he was all right