plodding through another heatwave

 "Martha and I might have settled over a book, or taken up our embroidery, or written letters ourselves to a numerous correspondence - but an unaccustomed restlessness had me in its grip."

                                           -  from Jane and the Ghosts of Netley, by Stephanie Barron

The air is hot; this morning early my brother went out. He never complains about the heat, but he said it was awful out. He went to the supermarket and when he came out, "my glasses fogged up." That was worth complaining about! 

I'm getting through the Brothers Karamazov and am also reading Watership Down - two rather rough stories - and was craving something less heavy, a story that draws you in. I like to reread old favorites, so I picked up one of the Jane Austen mysteries. To the hum of the air conditioners, and in between homework chores, I picked it up at every opportunity.

I'm ready to hem my burgundy dress. These sleeveless dresses are so cool, so welcome this summer! I'm not good at taking selfies and it's hard to photograph a whole length of dress. But last summer I bought fabric for three dresses on the Hancocks of Paducah website, buying only sale fabric. One of them is too short and I just got some eyelet for a ruffle to lengthen it. I wear the others regularly. So this year I bought three more and I'm on the third. But I love the batik version so much that I bought two more fabrics - these will be in heavy rotation, but it's satisfying to know that I paid between fifteen and twenty one dollars for each, since I bought only sale fabric. 

The tomatoes are turning red, and the beans are starting to flow in. I've got basil drying - I like it better than fresh, usually. I still have some basil leaves in the freezer, but I reach for the dried herb more often.

We've been feeding some neighborhood cats. They're not strays, but they come around and up to the door, so we give them food. This one is Benny. 

Note the tongue sticking out. I think he's cute. Then there's Leon, who has been coming through here for years, and now is finally comfortable with us. He has a certain look about him. I couldn't put my finger on it, but my brother said he looks mournful.

Leon of the Mournful Aspect

It's that longish, Norwegian Forest cat kind of face, and the way he has his head lowered but the eyes look up at you. 

*If you should feel curious about reading this, don't! It would be best to begin at the beginning with this series. You will thank me later.

leisurely things

 "It was because Damerosehay did not change that in this chaotic, tumbling, terrifying world it was a place of such comfort."

                                                      -  from Elizabeth Goudge's The Herb of Grace (1948)

Last week I'd felt the urge to re-read The Bird in the Tree, and now I'm reading this one, the second in the set of three. When I came upon the above sentence, I realized that is why I read certain novels again and again. It's non-fiction that I tend to pick up "new". It seems to me that if a book speaks strongly or deeply to you, there is a reason for it, and it's up to you to pursue that. Get out of it everything you are supposed to, although that makes it sound so much like use, when it's really like a drinking more and more deeply of something nourishing. Hopefully, anyway.

The liturgical year turns and today we are in the feast of Corpus Christi. Our church sits right at a busy intersection, and when it's not raining we go outside after mass and process around the property, stopping at four altars set up along the way. Often it's hot out, and I find it hard to stand in the bright sun but today we are having a really strong wind (which is delightful, I think!) and partly cloudy conditions which kept things comfortable. But as for proper June temperatures - we just don't have them. It should be in the seventies, and it's not, nor is it going to be, according to the forecasts. But I realize I'm often complaining about the weather over here. (sorry)

I made a simple dinner of chicken thighs, marinated in plenty of lemon juice, olive oil, smoked paptrika, garlic, salt and pepper, and baked at a high temp till done. Which took longer than the recipe said, but I don't like slimy chicken. But it was easy, after not falling asleep until two, and getting home from church much later than usual. 

After seeing the rabbits often, lately I don't see them at all and I wonder if they've had babies. But there was one in my garden the other day, in one of the beds I'm not using at the moment, eating some weedy stuff. The garden is anything but neat, but if the creatures like it, perhaps it's not a weed

after coming out of the garden

"But Sally did not want to be set free for anything, for it was living itself that she enjoyed. She liked lighting a real fire of logs and fir-cones and toasting bread on an old-fashioned toaster. And she liked the lovely curve of an old staircase and the fun of running up and down it. ... It's my stupid brain, she said to herself. I like the leisurely things, and taking my time about them."

Ascension Day

I dreamed about Dolly last night. She was outside, exploring; she was well! She was Dolly.

It was so good to see her. Make of that what you will.

We went to mass this morning - it is the Ascension of Jesus. forty days after Easter. I thought I'd make a nice dinner. I baked a small cake, coffee flavor with walnuts, no frosting. I then made a crustless quiche, with mushrooms and spinach - a little cheese. A romaine salad with blood oranges and a bit of yellow bell pepper, oil and vinegar dressing, and some chicken tenders marinated in a yogurt lemon herb mixture and baked.

In the afternoon, I sliced up the cake, which would have looked better cut up, and decided to have a piece. It was made with dates, and a little brown sugar. Well, it was so sweet - frankly, I couldn't stand it. I threw out the rest. I felt bad there was no dessert, not that my brother would notice, or mind. 

Meanwhile, I was catching up on some of Huw Richards' videos. He is focusing lately on perennial vegetables and he mentioned rhubarb; I have thought of rhubarb before, and would like to grow it, so I wrote it down. 

I no sooner wrote the word when my phone rang. It was a neighbor, Sally. I just baked a strawberry rhubarb pie, and wonder if you'd like some. Ah, ah!! I told her the story of my dessert disappointment, AND that I'd just written the word "rhubarb". Of all things! She brought it over and said she had put in less than half of the sugar in the recipe - it was just right. Thank you, dear Sally! 

Loving Father,

because of the Ascension of your Son
our human nature is now at home with you in heaven.
May this truth be our lasting encouragement and hope.
Through Christ our Lord. Amen.

The Ascension, by Rembrandt

random feelings of the heart

The purple-leafed plum was blooming a week ago, and it was exciting to see: the first blooming tree. Four days later, it was over! We did have cold weather last week, but maybe it's a short-lived thing anyway - we haven't had that tree long enough for me to remember it's blooming habits. But now the cherry trees are all pink with the crabapples right behind. The grass is emerald, and everything is lush and hopeful. 

I ripped the sleeves off the dress bodice, and detached it from the skirt. I took in the sides an inch. I think I want to make a lining, give it some substance. This may take a while.

Random feelings of the heart,
Ravings of a lone exile,
Stranger to the rules of art,
Let me robe in homely style.

-  James Kennedy, 18th century

little systems

 I'm back to making bread; it seems, along with soup, a Lenten thing to have. 

Here's the recipe  The soup I made today was potato leek - so delicious! Here's the recipe, and I realized from reading this old post that I forgot the thyme. It was still good!

My skirt needs adjusting; it's too full, which would be pretty on some, but I like a little less of it.

Our little systems have their day;
They have their day and cease to be:
They are but broken lights of thee,
And thou, O Lord, art more than they.

-  Tennyson

becoming renewed

 The paths my brother plowed for the rabbits are getting wider, the grass in them is more visible. Water was running into the drains at the supermarket parking lot. It's been a little warmer. There will be more snow tomorrow, but I actually hung something out on the line today! It was very pleasant.

Breathe deep and be renewed by every breath,
Kinned to the keen east wind and cleansing air,
As though the blue itself were blowing through you.

- Malcolm Guite*

I bought some lamb and made Scotch broth today, and I had a very-belated revelation. I always buy the shoulder chops because that what I'm familiar with, and they're cheaper than other cuts. I bought two packages, and by the time I'd cut out all the bones and fat, what was left was a smaller amount than the pile of fat and bones. Is that economical? I had looked at the loin chop package, and noticed it seemed less fatty.  l will have to try that next time. I'm making lots of soups this Lent, and am using every good recipe I've got. It's just the thing for this time of year.

*from The Word in the Wilderness

wool gathering

 

I finished tying the baby quilt today, and it's washed and ready for my friend's little one. I tied it on the "wrong" side, as the floral is so busy - I thought it would just add to it. This gives the whiteness and bit of interest, and hopefully conceal the tasselly ends from their cat - I know how that can be!

Gretchen had asked me what I'm going to knit next, and I thought maybe a shawl, but a friend told me the fingerless mitts I'd made for her years ago finally wore out. So, I ordered yarn to make another pair and am waiting for it to arrive. I remember enjoying making them back then. Let's see if I can do it again without too much head-scratching!

I've been going through my old British Country Living magazines - I kept three issues for each month, not being able to part with them. Until now, but I'm cutting out anything which appeals to me, and putting it all in red folders, one for each month. This will take up way less room! There's a magazine swap bin at the library so they can go there if they aren't too cut up.. A woman named Sally Coulthard had a column every month; she's got a farm and animals and she does country things. Then I saw a book review, of a book she wrote about sheep. I found a copy in a nearby library, and was amazed to find a list of books by her on the back flap - she's written many books! Here are a few. So I guess she's really a writer who also has a farm. 

Anyway, she did lots of research and the book is very interesting. The one I saw in the magazine is called A Short History of the World According to Sheep. The one I have is called Follow the Flock. It has to be the same book. It seems the ancient Scythians were the ones who really mastered the use of felt and they would carry their sheep when they moved around, strapped to the backs of the horses. And, did you know the Romans' shields were covered in felt?  Pliny said, "wool is compressed also for making felt, which when soaked in vinegar is capable of even resisting iron..."  I wonder how true that is.

October day

There are days which can only happen in October, and today was one of them. What I mean is, golden leafed trees, heavy rain giving an even warmer look to everything. Strong gusts, blowing leaves across the yard, sunny skies showing all the colors.

I recently found the kit lens to my camera, and kept going outside to take pictures. I tried to capture the leaves blowing in the wind, but was always too late. 

But it was mild, it was rainy, it was sunny, it was beautiful. It was October.

why things are falling apart

 The Bishop came by yesterday, and he quoted my favorite president:

"Our Constitution was made only for a moral and religious people.
It is wholly inadequate to the government of any other."

- John Adams

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.