at home, yet a stranger

 I just finished In This House of Brede with an online group - an excellent story! So many characters, so many personalities and lots going on. I remember Diana Rigg being in the film version but don't think I've watched it, so that's what I'm going to do. I'll keep my expectations low, since I can't imagine the whole story fitting into a two-hour or less movie.

I discovered a mostly-done skirt in my fabric stash - it's an olive cotton knit, made up just like my gray knit skirt, and only needed an elastic for the waist. I finished it off, and it's waiting to be ironed. I tried taking a photo, but the right color is so hard to get! 

I've started looking at my gardening books, even though the snow on the ground is still a few inches deep. There was some rain today, which will melt things a little faster. I'm also looking at all the books I own with a critical eye - do I really need you? I have a cookbook with recipes for many pantry type foods, and I noticed a recipe for chocolate yogurt. I bought a gallon of the only pasteurized milk at the store (as opposed to ultra-pasteurized) and made some. It calls for very little sugar, but I have it with a bit of honey. As I was ladling it into the jars, I noticed it looked more chocolate-y at the end than the top. I was stirring it well the whole time, but milky things often stick to the bottom of the pot, and when they do, you don't want to scrape it when you stir in case it may turn up solids which aren't going to dissolve. So I stirred frequently but carefully,and more of the chocolate stayed near the bottom. 

It's Lent.

"To take the ashes is to confess kinship with this world of dust, to declare our readiness to abdicate pretensions to omnipotence. Standing before God in this way, I profess that I am not God. I admit the chasm that separates me from him. I accept the uncomfortable otherness of God. He is what I am not, yet my being bears his mark. I crave a completion no created thing can give. I walk this earth as yearning incarnate. I am at home, yet a stranger, homesick for a homeland I recall but have not seen."

-  Bishop Erik Varden, from Magnificat, February 2026

building up and repairing

 When you are fasting, i.e., eating much less than usual, you find you have more time to do other things! Not to mention that I have more energy; I'm becoming more aware of a sluggish digestion, and it's just better to have less. And I never have been one to stuff myself, so - well, it's very interesting. 

When I was sick, I ordered some groceries and I got a load of bananas, thinking fruit might agree with me. Of course, one can never eat all the bananas, so today I made up a batch of double chocolate banana bread, and now it's in the freezer, waiting for Easter, or later. 

My red and green Christmas rosary, of which I'm very fond, has painted beads, not colored glass, and they've been peeling. I found matching nail polishes and am slowly touching them up. I do no more than one a day, because I don't like the smell of the polish in the house. 

So it will take a little while. 

This, from an article in Plough magazine:

"When you build a thing, you cannot merely build that thing in isolation, but must also repair the world around it, and within it, so that the larger world at that one place becomes more coherent, and more whole; and the thing which you make takes its place in the web of nature, as you make it."

                                                   -  Christopher Alexander

It sounds like God's work.

the golden stairway

 I'm lifting this straight from Magnificat, but it's so interesting.

"My mother used to say that the days of Advent were the days of building a golden stairway that would lead us to a star, the star of Bethlehem. And this, in turn, would lead us straight to the Christ Child! In my youth, that stairway was real. Each day I could see and touch each step of it as it was being built. The first steps were made of cleanliness. We began cleaning from the inside out. First, there was the Advent fast: to clean the soul of all its past faults and sins, to make penance for them, to wash it with tears, and the heart with contrition. As in Lent, all meat, milk products, eggs, and sugar disappeared from the family table, to be replaced with fish, vegetables and honey. The parish church became the focal point of our daily lives. ...

But there was a difference. In Lent, the Russian women donned dark garments, took off their jewelry, and allowed no music in the house....Not so in Advent. On the contrary, there was talk of new clothing. There was a flurry of buying materials and of sewing. There was much music in the air, and the practicing of hymns and songs to be sung on the Holy Night. Even the fast itself was one of joyous expectation. Masses, Communions, confessions, and evening services in the church followed one another closely throughout the days. To accompany these inner preparations, outward cleaning and scrubbing went on feverishly all about the house, with everyone humming snatches from ageless tunes. The first to be cleaned and polished were the icons, which shone and became alive under the flickering shadows of the votive lamps - red and blue and green. To my childish eyes, they were the forerunners of the lovely candles on the Christmas tree."

                                              -    Catherine de Hueck Doherty

ashes, not comfort

The ashes this morning didn't consist of a big black cross on my forehead; there's apparently another way of dispensing them - just a sprinkle on the head. And that's what we got this morning. 

"Jesus is not the Lord of comfort, security and ease. Following Jesus demands a good dose of courage."

                                                           -  Pope Francis

Here's something by Sarah Clarkson - she didn't get any ashes today, but she wrote a wonderful poem.

"The world offers you comfort. But you were not made for comfort. You were made for greatness."

                                                               -  Pope Benedict XVI

                                             

Sneakers, one of Diane's cats, on our front stoop, reminding us of Mr. Kibble

the meek king cometh

Holy Week begins today - I always want matzoh.

Rejoice heartily, O daughter Zion, shout for joy, O daughter Jerusalem! See, your king shall come to you; a just savior is he, Meek, and riding on an ass, on a colt, the foal of an ass.

-   Zechariah 9:9

Day of Prayer for the Legal Protection of Unborn Children

God our Creator, 

we give thanks to you,

who alone have the power to impart the breath of life

as you form each of us in our mother's womb;

grant, we pray,

that we, whom you have made stewards of creation,

may remain faithful to this sacred trust

and constant in safeguarding the dignity

of every human life.

Through our Lord Jesus Christ, your Son, 

who lives and reigns with you in the unity

of the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever.

Amen.

- from Magnificat, January 2017

plenty of corned beef

It's Holy Week, and I always want to have matzoh around; it seems fitting.

In reality, even though I love it, too much messes up the digestion - it's basically just flour and water.


I've been listening to this CD which Cyndi gave me a few years ago -

it was on repeat so many times, I think the cats got hypnotized - it was ten before seven and I realized they hadn't had their supper. Amazing that Henry wasn't asking for it!


We got lots of mileage from our corned beef and cabbage this year.  I bought two packages of the meat, and cooked one on St. Patrick's Day with the vegetables. There wasn't enough meat for leftovers on Saturday, so I cooked the other one.

Today I abandoned my dinner plans in favor of making a pot pie. There was a dill flavored dough in the freezer, so I took it out last night.  Into the casserole dish went the meat (there was plenty) and the carrots. I thought it should be without a gravy inside, so I baked it as it was, and made a gravy to serve over it. I know it's essentially the same thing, but the idea of some kind of gravy inside the pie with corned beef didn't sound right. So, we had it with the heated-up cabbage and some potatoes, and salad. Half of it is left, and we'll eat it on Tuesday after work!

Joining Rosie and Leila.

sparrows at Stop & Shop

Our grocery store keeps its outer doors open in nicer weather, and you can hear birds tweeting high up in the rafters; very occasionally one will get inside. But last evening as I was rounding the corner near the organic aisle, what should I see but three house sparrows on the floor, eating something there.

from the internet - it was just like this, except mother was also present!

I was amazed, and had to stop and watch. They were unconcerned about my presence. Well, of course - there was a baby there and the parents had to stay near it. It was the cutest thing! As I walked around the store, one would whiz by periodically. I hope they're all settled now, where they're supposed to be. 

"we wait with patience"

"How do we wait for God? We wait with patience. But patience does not mean passivity. Waiting patiently is not like waiting for the bus to come, the rain to stop or the sun to rise. It is an active waiting in which we live the present moment to the full in order to find there the signs of the One we are waiting for.

The word patience comes from the Latin verb patior, which means 'to suffer'. Waiting patiently is suffering through the present moment, tasting it to the full and letting the seeds that are sown in the ground in which we stand grow into strong plants. Waiting patiently always means paying attention to what is happening right before our eyes and seeing there the first rays of God's glorious coming."

                                                     - Henri Nouwen

"Expectation as Patience"

from Henri Nouwen's Out of Solitude:


"The mother of expectation is patience.   


 Without patience our expectation degrades into wishful thinking. Patience comes from the word 'patior', which means to suffer. The first thing that Jesus promises is suffering: 'I tell you...you will be weeping and wailing...and you will be sorrowful.' But He calls these pains birth pains. And so, what seems a hindrance becomes a way; what seems an obstacle becomes a door; what seems a misfit becomes a cornerstone.


That is the great conversion in our life: to recognize and believe that the many unexpected events are not just disturbing interruptions of our projects, but the way in which God molds our hearts and prepares us for His return."

Good Friday

"Have you ever loved someone and wanted desperately to somehow make him or her notice you and found yourself hopelessly unable to do so?...then you have felt how God feels in this world."

                  -   Ron Rolheiser, OMI    "Daybreaks: Daily Reflections for Lent and Easter Week"

("Crucifixion"  by Murillo)

Holy Week begins

"Holy Week invites us to let go of self and embrace the Lord anew. To begin again! How desperately the current age needs to hear this Good news that we can all begin again! The real question is not whether we will mark time but how we will do so? For the Christian time is not meant to be a tyrant ruling over us with impunity. Rather, it is a teacher, inviting and instructing us to choose to enter more fully into our relationship with the Lord and in Him with one another for the world."

                              Deacon Keith Fournier of Catholic Online

( Entry into Jerusalem by Giotto)



a good description of Lent

The meditations booklet they're providing for us at church this year is promising -

The Desert as a Place of Preparation

"In order to be filled by God one must first be emptied.

The desert does this for you. It empties you. It is not a place where you can decide how you want to grow and change. But it is an experience that you undergo, expose yourself to and have the courage to face. The idea is not so much that you do things there, but that things happen to you while there - silent, unseen, transforming things. The desert purifies you, almost against your will, through God's efforts.

In the desert, what really occurs is a cosmic confrontation between God and the devil; though this happens within and through you. Your job is only to have the courage to be there. The idea is that God does the work, providing you have the courage to show up.

In terms of an image, this is what Lent is meant to be, time in the desert to courageously face the chaos and the demons within us and to let God do battle with them through us. The result is that we are purified, made ready, so the intoxicating joy of Easter might then bind us more closely to God and each other."

            - Ron Rolheiser, OMI   "Daybreaks: Daily Reflections for Lent and Easter Week"

Ash Wednesday

"Remember that you are dust,
and unto dust you shall return."

I'm trying.