beautiful summer day

 Oh my goodness, the perfect day. And in August, of all things!  It's been a summer of so many hot, hot days, and so much humidity. Today was wonderful, and I only got warm after dinner, because I had a quiche in the oven for an hour. Otherwise, under eighty, a gentle breeze, sunshine. Ahhh. A day like this goes a long way toward making one forget about the awful stuff.

And I realized how inadequate my summer wardrobe is, for days off, I mean. So I ordered three lengths of quilting cotton on sale, in order to make three of my favorite sleeveless a-line shifts. The first is black, with sunflowers all over it. 

I cut it short, so after I bind the armholes I'll decide about a ruffle or something else to lengthen it. The checked dress is on hold for the moment.

I cut some chives to dry the other day: I just snip them into short pieces and lay them on a tray in an out of the way place. I do like to do a bit of this and a bit of that, rather than spending all day on a thing. 

Yesterday was hot, so I cooked up some chicken tenders with a piccata type sauce. For veg, I steamed some beans and then cooled them in the freezer. They were served with cut-up tomatoes and salt, oregano and olive oil. That's how we've been living - cooking things that don't require a long heating. 

life and growth

A rabbit got into the garden last week. He didn't seem to eat anything we would regret. They seem to find so much among the grass, God bless them. A simple diet is best, isn't it? Then I didn't see any rabbits for a week, until today when there were two baby ones, running around the hedges. So, it continues. 

Look what somebody dropped off at the library this week.

I love this story. Look at the cover!

So elegant, with the gold edging. But there's a fragrance, like the previous owner wore perfume and now the book has it. I might just bring it back - I don't fancy having to smell that whenever I read it. Such a disappointment.

I was reading in St. Matthew's gospel, near the beginning, and it said that after the Magi came and asked where the child was who was born king of the Jews, "he was frightened, and all Jerusalem with him". I never noticed that before - all Jerusalem was frightened? How interesting. 

I picked a handful of beans today and steamed them; my brother can have them with his eggs tomorrow for supper.

and you thought journalism was dead

 With all the mentions I've made of Raynor Winn's The Salt Path over the past few years, I feel it incumbent upon me to make this post.

I was on youtube yesterday when a little video popped up. This one. A reporter at The Observer dug deep and found out that the Winns' real names are Sally and Tim Walker They are basically embezzlers and tax evaders, for a start. Three books were written, to acclaim, and now the film is out; I've been waiting for it to show over here. Now, I don't think I can bring myself. The full article - very thorough and interesting - is here.

I really am stunned. Of course we know these things go on. But it was a great story, and so hopeful, the way Moth seemed to get better after these long hikes they went on. They're not even sure now about the truth of his illness, and that whole part of it.

What really amazes me is that she has done so many interviews, her face has been everywhere, for those who've been following their story, and didn't she think that someday they'd be found out? That nobody they've ever known would be watching the news? What will happen now? You can run, but you can't hide forever, and especially not when you're famous. Incredible.

About "journalism". This reporter, Chloe Hadjimatheou, did a stellar job. But there is altogether too much of this: 

But I do agree with them on one point: They are extremely dangerous to our democracy.

happy summer

 It was so hot and humid yesterday that I chose my pale chambray blue sheets when I changed the bed. Looking at blue does help in the summer. And it is summer! (or will be by eleven tonight)

Today was dreamy:dry and very windy, but it felt wonderful. Now, the humidity's come back. Is the whole summer going to be this way? 

I've been busy easing the bias tape around my dress armholes, which takes some coaxing. 

I planned a Summer Supper in honor of the longest day of the year. First, tuna sandwiches, recipe here; a favorite in this house for many years - a bit fancified, with kalamata olives and red onion. Also, an eggplant recipe, very easy, where you salt and pepper thick eggplant slices, lay them in a pool of olive oil and bake on both sides for about a half hour on a high temp. Top the warm slices with a mixture of feta, capers, tomato and a few other things and it goes together pretty quickly. And the juiciness of it was just what I didn't know I needed. Then, freezer pops for dessert.

This morning I started to make them, coconut milk matcha pops, but - I know I had matcha powder at one time, but I guess not anymore  and I had already begun the recipe. So I decided to use instant coffee granules, which worked very well, I have to say. Any flavor would taste good when you're hot. But I've started a big jar of tea in the fridge, so I don't have to turn to sugary treats when I need something cold.

the telling of it

 "We temporarily added another member to the household this week when Hollyberry Red loped onto the terrace with a very wee rabbit. No bigger than a thimble, bright-eyed, incredibly soft, the rabbit was not injured by the sudden trip. The soft mouth of an Irish setter is always a surprise, it is really truly an egg can be retrieved unbroken provided you want to play games with eggs. 

Connie was home for the week end and she spent two hours at a stretch with a baby nursing bottle trying to get the tiny thing to take some nourishment. Finally she got down a few drops of warm evaporated milk via a dropper. She kept working every little while.

In four days the small one had developed personality, waggling its ears bravely, putting a paw out, giving great shiny looks when milk was in the offing. He also made small gestures toward fixing the grass up in his shoebox. 

By the time we learned from my naturalist-cousin Rob that rabbits have front teeth so designed that they must nurse sideways, so to speak, the baby was doing very well. His will to live was astonishing.

He fitted inside Connie's small palm at first, and then he seemed to begin growing. And then we gave him to a little girl whose rabbit had been run over, partly because she needed a rabbit and partly because it didn't seem practical to raise a rabbit with eight lively cockers and a livelier Irish setter romping around. Jill said everybody would get complexes. 

But I hated to see him go. The way this very small, very wild youngling adjusted to circumstances was amazing. Lugged from the nest by a fierce huge creature full of great teeth, dumped in the midst of people, he nevertheless gathered his small forces together and made up his mind to manage."

                                    -    Gladys Taber

I just finished the most wonderful book. Raising Hare by Chloe Dalton - do you know of it? A true account of a woman in the English countryside, during the lockdown, who finds a baby hare alone on a path. She passes by again four hours later and it's still there, so she decides to take it home. 

When I think back on the books which have made a difference in my life, it's not ever just the story, but how it's told. Galileo's Daughter, The Salt Path, Under the Tuscan Sun, God's Hotel, Fort of Nine Towers - it's always in the telling of it. 

This woman focuses the book on the relationship between herself and the leveret (baby hare); she has a life, but it is in the background to this compelling situation which requires much of her time and attention. It's not a tragic story! No tears at the end, although hares and other wild creatures don't live as long as we do. She opened up her life, her home, her mind and her heart to this helpless animal, and she was changed by it. When I was done with the book, I looked around at my life and thought about all the extraneous things here, things I can possibly let go of. Things that would get in the way of allowing such an event to possibly overturn parts of one's life.

Chloe Dalton was the perfect person to have this experience, not only because she writes wonderfully, but because of the way she respected this creature so entirely. If you like animal stories, consider Raising Hare.

a real winter, it is

It's snowing. It should stop at midnight, with freezing rain a few hours later. We've had to go to Saturday afternoon mass two weeks in a row - so unusual, and there are rumors of a nor'easter on Thursday. 

The grocery shopping had to be done, as much as I dreaded being there before a storm. It was busy; at one point the line extended to the other end of the store. Thankfully, by the time we were ready, it was back to normal. And I noticed it was after twelve - lunch, even before a storm, must be eaten! There is still some regularity, some predictability in this world.

When we got to church, the organist was about to go up the stairs to the choir loft, and he cheerily said, "Good afternoon", at the same time I said "Good morning". It was so automatic; if I'm seeing him, it must be morning!

Before today's snow

I saw rabbit tracks in the snow around the bird feeder; do rabbits eat sunflower seeds? I hope he found some food.

I finished reading The Bird in the Tree. It's the first in a trilogy, with the middle one being my favorite. But I had forgotten how good this was - or maybe I hadn't realized it before. I'm wanting to read the whole thing again, but it's not long ago I read the second, so I may just go right to the third, which is The Heart of the Family - I don't remember it that well, but I know I loved these three books.

"In times of storm and tempest, of indecision and desolation, a book already known and loved makes better reading than something new and untried. The meeting with remembered and well-loved passages is like the continual greeting of old friends; nothing is so warming and companionable."

                                                   -  Elizabeth Goudge, The Bird in the Tree

Meanwhile, I continue with J.D. Vance's memoir of his youth in Appalachia. He's come a long way from that very unstable childhood, to the fellow who made that terrific speech in Munich the other day. 

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! 

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.

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

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

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. 

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."

nature calling

I awoke sometime in the dark, and realized an owl was hooting. An owl isn't unusual, but I can't remember when I last heard one, so I guess they are unusual. I listened for a while, and had to get to the bathroom. Meanwhile, Dianne's husband went down the road in his snazzy car and the owl stopped. 

I wanted to identify the call while I still remembered it. I got my tablet; it was four thirty. It was a great horned. So exciting! Not sure why, since they are common. I guess I am just glad I heard it, and glad I was able to find out what type. It seemed funny to me that Daisy wasn't interested when I was in my window, figuring out where he might be - she paid no attention. 

Speaking of paying no attention, my brother was astonished when he went out to the shed, and the rabbit nearby just ignored him. Well, he said he watched my brother, but never moved. Could it be the word has gotten out among them - we are friendly to rabbits? 

It was a very cool, refreshing night, and perfect day - in the seventies! Later we had at least three brief showers with cloudy spells, where I'd put up the shade, then bright and sunny and warm, where I'd pull it down. Up and down, up and down. I think the back-and-forthing is a precursor to more humidity - well, it is August. And today was very un-August like. That's all right; July was rough.

You can't see it from the house, so we didn't notice right away, but a large branch broke off a tree across the brook and fell halfway across the grassy area back there; my brother won't be able to mow past it until he gets rid of it.

Just snapped off. It probably wasn't like that on Saturday. We had the remains of Hurricane Debby here on Friday night, but it wasn't as bad as it was originally predicted. Still, it was very gusty for the whole day and night. 

Does this mean it was weak? That tree is tall, and I know my brother has mentioned taking it down. I always resist, because it glows so beautifully in autumn. But it could fall on our house, or on one of our neighbors'. Oh, brother. We have had loads of rain this season, not to mention last year. Basically, more rain than normal over the past year. This can loosen the tree roots, and the big winds will topple them. He said he's glad he just got new blades for his chainsaw. 

solutions

 I've been wondering if my butternut squashes out in the garden will rot from laying on the often-wet earth. I went out today and realized there are four squash there!! That plant, which I grew from a seed, by the way, has spread over the whole place out there. It's leaves are shading everything else, so I don't think the red onions are going to do anything. But I do love butternut squash! I think if I just go out and lift up each one every day, they should get enough air all the way around. 

I finished reading The Yearling this morning. Before, when I looked ahead, it was quickly done and I didn't get the peripheral descriptions and details surrounding the - well, I'll call it the tragic event. Reading it carefully gave a context and a "good" ending to the story. I mean, not happy, but right. And it was so well written, everything and everyone lifelike. 

And now, when I see Daisy and observe her liveliness, her antics, I remember Jody's fawn, Flag. These creatures are what they are. They live in our world but they're outside of society, they can't always understand how to operate within it. (well, Dolly could, but we won't go there). Daisy has her fun, she looks for something new to do, she gets into things, she causes problems we have to solve by altering this and that in the house. Anyway, I feel that now I'm looking at her in a different way, and when I'm tempted to get impatient, that fawn in the story comes to mind. Daisy is just happy to be alive, and when she looks into my eyes at length the way she sometimes does, is she wondering why we're buddies some of the time and why I yell, at others? 

our little "yearling" - it's important to be Earnest, and she is

It was a beautiful story. I wonder why she wrote it.

I machine-stitched my blue skirt hem today. I'm not sure I like the way it looks, and I think I'll chop off the whole hem and just have it a little shorter. Since it's practically a maxi, it will still be plenty long, but it won't be catching in my sandal buckles. The never ending skirt.

big hopes

 Every rabbit we see outside get scrutinized for any sign of scarring on the right side, or fur that looks wonky, looking for our little patient. Today I saw a full-grown rabbit with a bit of fur sticking out on his right side. He was with a little one and I got lots of closeups. 

His fur has different shadings than the little guy, who has a more uniform color. And the big guy has a dark spot on his back. The fur had peeled off the back and we'd put it back in place. It was off completely on an area on the right side. 

His coloring is much more even on the left side. So, is this our friend? Who knows. But we would sure like to know he come through it all right. They can die from fright or stress.

In other news, I had put in the elastic waist on my skirt, but it was too poofy. Lawn is soft and does have a sort of drape, but not much weight. So, I removed the elastic and trimmed a bit off the upper edge, thinking I'd just make a waistband. Until it dawned on me that I'd also have to put in a zipper; I didn't want to do that; I didn't want to unpick a French seam on a lightweight fabric. So I decided to put in a few small pleats to take away some of the fullness. So far, so good. But then I had to cut a piece to make a casing to take the place of the part I'd cut off - anyway, I think it'll be all right now. But I have to try it on.

Huw Richards - love his youtube channel!

I'm reading The Yearling and liking it very much, although I hear it's a tear jerker. The library copy is well worn.

And I am also making my slow way through Esther de Waal's Seeking God: the Way of St. Benedict.

"Your way of acting should be different from the 

world's way: the love of Christ must come before all else. 

You are not to act in anger

or nurse a grudge.

Rid your heart of all deceit.

Never give a hollow greeting of peace

or turn away when someone needs your love."

- from the Rule of St. Benedict

A man who, while remembering God, respects every man,

 by a hidden movement of God's hand himself receives

 help from every man.

A man who protects the injured has God as his helper; 

a man who stretches his hand to aid his brother 

has God's arm to support him.

-  Isaac of Syria

"Continue to keep a warm love for me....I cannot be with you

physically but my heart is always with you. 

Like me make efforts to win friends everywhere....Do not think

you will ever have enough. Be bound to all, whether rich or poor,

in brotherly sympathy. This letter is a document of the heart."

-   St, Anselm of Canterbury, 1093 

cats in the world

 In between reading more weighty books, I picked up Pat of Silver Bush for a more soothing experience of beautiful scenery, etc.. And I came upon a quote:

"No matter what dreadful things happened at least there were still cats in the world." 

But when I re-read something, it's the same passages which pop out at me every time, so I checked my previous posts, and yes, I posted this ten years ago. And there was this picture, too.

Forever in our memories.

The beauty in the world, making things fit, and life with Daisy

 "The old way of thinking about the world helped heal the 'tragic dilemma' of being human."

                                                 -  Jason M. Baxter

The cherry has begun to bloom.

I don't think any other tree blossoms are more beautiful.

Several years ago I did a repair on my bathrobe, replacing the bodice part which was worn. I traced the robe's upper part and made a pattern; I was so afraid of making it too small, that it ended up too roomy. I put up with it until now. 

It's got a dolman sleeve, with the seam going from the side neck edge, over the shoulder and down the arm. It needed taking in about an inch up there, so I just re-did the seam from the neck and then tapered it down to nothing by the time I went over the shoulder. It's just right now! 

I received the tracing paper a day late and was working, so I haven't gotten back to the dress. But I am beginning to think it would be much nicer looking if I lined it. I'm not sure I'll like the way it hangs if I don't do it. Bother. But before I put the green thread in the machine I want to make a few cleaning cloths that I like to use in the bathroom. Just seven inch squares of cotton, zigzagged around the edge. They work very well for cleaning in there.

Have you ever seen such a sight as this?

Double jointed is hardly the word to describe her. 

Anyway, before my brother came home for lunch, I heard things falling in his room; I looked, and there was an accordion file folder she had tipped over or something, and then dragged it to the doorway. I left it, so he'd see the full force of her exertions. I think he was suitably impressed. 

My "project" today was to make a special dinner just because it's my brother's name day. I was going to make chicken soup, and I did, but I had pinned a recipe for one of those vegetarian loaves, and I made on with mushrooms, brown rice, sun-dried tomatoes, kale and lots of other tasty stuff, but no cheese. I substituted different mushrooms, and kale for spinach, but recipes are just suggestions anyway. Very nice! And then I made a healthy dessert with ground up dates and assorted nuts, a kind of brownie. I didn't have pistachios, but I had cashews. I used what was around and it is good - I highly recommend it!

"The saints in heaven, as they are variously described in Paradiso, shine brighter than stars, move more swiftly than lightning, produce a more lovely harmony than the planets, glow like an unending sunrise, smile more radiantly than the sun, rush swifter than cold, mountain winds. Each saint outdoes, as it were, the entirety of the old celestial order. A saintly soul is a new creation, and the re-creation of a human being is as dramatic an event as God's creation of the first cosmos."

                      - Jason Baxter, talking about C.S. Lewis' admiration for Dante's Divine Comedy

            from The Medieval Mind of C.S. Lewis

a winner

I had a package of six skinless, boneless chicken thighs, so I seasoned them well and baked them. We were going to have them like that with some veg, but I kept thinking of the cassoulet, knowing I could improve on the meal if I just had a little more time. My brother was game, so I went ahead with the recipe. There was still some pepperoni (and I'm convinced that sausage is very important to this dish), and it came out so good. I'm going to make this any time I have only enough meat for one meal, because this stretches it out to two.

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.

more time for reading

 

It was so pretty this morning.  Snow falling lightly, and it’s been doing that every night lately - just to cover. I’ve been sick, so in between trying to keep up with laundry and supper things, I have plenty of time to read. 

I'm fully absorbed in reading The Scent of Water, by Elizabeth Goudge. I was thinking of reading it again this year, and then Sarah Clarkson picked it for the next Patreon book, for next month. So I was going to wait till March to pick it up, but here I was, with a couple of non-fiction books, but who can read only that all the time, and especially when sick?

It has happened to me more than once when sick -  reading a story that drew me in so completely and spoke to me in a way that I might not have appreciated at a different time. I read this once before, but I hardly remember any of the detail. I almost feel I should turn around and start it again after I'm done with this go-round. Maybe I will! If a book speaks to you to that extent, then maybe more time should be spent with it, to absorb whatever it is you are supposed to learn from it.

But I've also got St. Bernard's On Consideration:

Do you ask what piety is? It is leaving time for consideration.

I need to consider what it is that draws me to this Goudge novel.