Leo, not Leon

 I started my Sunday cooking early, and the house smells wonderful: thyme, oregano, garlic, onion, green pepper, carrot, zucchini, tomatoes and sweet potato. What a nice way to end the day, with such aromas.

I've been meaning to clear up something - well, muddy up the waters is more like it. The missing cat is Leon, not Leo. The cat we've been feeding along with Benny, is Leo. We heard it straight from Dianne, so there is no possibility of error here, and I feel bad for whoever isn't going to see this post and miss the explanation.

Leo and Leon have been coming to our yard and going through it for many years - we could never get near them, but they liked to come here. Once Dianne said that Leo was bigger. After that when I saw one of them and he seemed large, I'd think it was Leo, and when I saw one of them and wasn't sure if it was large, I'd figure it was Leon. Not very scientific. Another time she told me that Leon had lots of knots in his fur, which they couldn't seem to get out. So when Benny showed up, and one of the yellow cats came with him, we noticed so many knots - well, this must be Leon, we thought. My brother, the hairdresser, would sometimes sit with him and patiently brush, and then use his professional electric razor. "Leon" would be so happy, he'd lick my brother's arm. Then "Leo" went missing. 

We have also been in the habit of bringing Benny home in the evenings, if he's here near sunset. Benny, a black cat, is impervious to the dangers of automobiles. He is frequently to be seen in the middle of the road, grooming himself. A car may drive up to him, and he remains unfazed. Frankly, it makes us nervous wrecks, and now with days getting shorter, we just carry him home (across the street and two houses over) most of the time. Anyway, it was on one of these occasions we saw someone in Dianne's family who said that our guy is Leo, and the missing one is Leon (still missing). 

picking basil with Leo

I'm very sorry for the confusion this will cause! We tried to get it right!

Otherwise, after terrible humidity yesterday, today was sparkling. The mockingbirds have been singing their October recitals.

turning aside

 The snow started around or right after seven thirty; it isn't a blizzard yet, but they're saying it's going to be. Right now it's just falling steadily but gently. We threw out some carrots, in case the rabbits came around before the snow, but they didn't.

However, I later realized the storm door was unlocked, and when I locked it, there was one at the head of the driveway, looking for sunflower seeds beneath the snow. There are plenty there. I watched him several minutes, when he suddenly zigzagged into the neighbor's yard, and there he sat, near a pile of brush near the shed. Meanwhile another appeared on the side of the forsythia and just quietly sat for five minutes until he, too, came to look for seed. Then we noticed a third near the feeder where the carrots are, so maybe they will get some after all. Because we will get at least a foot of heavy snow, at times with very low visibility and I have no idea how they manage or what they do in snowstorms.

But there had been a hawk outside a few days ago, so I'm glad to see all three of them, still our little neighbors. But, what do they do? What do squirrels do in blizzards, when the wind gusts to forty five miles per hour? Can they stay in the trees?

Now, they've all converged under the bird feeder, while the snow is only an inch or so deep. Fill up, little friends, because it may be a long while before your next meal!

While I was watching them, I thought of the poem by R.S. Thomas, which was the Lenten meditation for today in Malcolm Guite's The Word in the Wilderness:

"Life is not hurrying on to a receding future,
nor hankering after an imagined past.
It is the turning aside like Moses to the miracle of the lit bush."

Because I was standing there for a while; they weren't moving, so I didn't move, because I wanted to understand how they live.

But anyway, about the storm - we have plenty to eat, things to do and books to read. The town offices are already closed for tomorrow - my coworkers will have a day off.

I hope it won't be too bad.

The Bright Field

I have seen the sun break through
to illuminate a small field
for a while, and gone my way
and forgotten it. But that was the
pearl of great price, the one field that had
treasure in it. I realise* now
that I must give all that I have
to possess it. Life is not hurrying

on to a receding future, nor hankering after
an imagined past. It is the turning
aside like Moses to the miracle
of the lit bush, to a brightness
that seemed as transitory as your youth
once, but is the eternity that awaits you.

-  R.S. Thomas

*realize the way the English spell it, with an "s"

creature comforts

 A tufted titmouse sitting under the back awning, working on breaking into his sunflower seed.

and a squirrel we've observed, twice, sitting on the railing outside, just enjoying the sun.

a Happy Thanksgiving

 Well, it was a nice day and we had a good time. The cats didn't end up getting any turkey - they were sleeping while we ate. Daisy, of course, was at hand when I set the table.

Don't tell me I should have driven her off as soon as I saw here there - I already know that. I think she liked the tablecloth.

On the subject of cats, my brother went to the church early in the morning; his intention was to go to Mass, but first to the office, where he had to use the copier. He noticed some bags on the steps of the church, but did not investigate - this was before seven. At eight thirty, it was still there - it was an orange cat, in a carrier, with all its possessions, i.e., bowls, harness, etc.. As he was wondering if he should just bring it home, the organist came along and said he'd take it, and see if the local vet could find a home for it. So he took it upstairs in the choir loft, where the poor creature was crying. But there is a crying room up there, so that's where the kitty went. We are looking forward to Sunday when we'll see him, to find out the rest of the story.

I was pretty shocked at this - I follow several cat rescue channels on youtube, and see this sort of thing all the time. But I never saw it here. That is probably naive, to be surprised. 

Anyway, we are hoping for a happy conclusion to this Thanksgiving story. 

My autumnal display on the front steps looks pretty, I think.

Everybody likes Thanksgiving.

"In sober moments [Sir Walter] Raleigh's friends had no faith in his stories, but tonight he held them spellbound. In America, he said, vines laden with grapes cling to tall cedar trees, and sitting beneath them the natives drink the powdered bones of their chieftains in pineapple wine. 

Why? asked Nicolas....The customs of these people seemed to him odd.

That they may have their courage in them, of course, cried Raleigh, bringing his knife-hilt down with a crash on the table. Don't you know that we all of us feed on the courage of the dead? If there had been no valiant men in the past to show us the way to live would we be anything today but spineless idiots? 

Tell us some more, said Philip with kindling eyes. Is it very beautiful, that land?

                                                          -   from Towers in the Mist, Elizabeth Goudge

"As we have grown and prospered in material things, so also should we progress in moral and spiritual things. We are a God-fearing people who should set ourselves against evil and strive for righteousness in living, and observing the Golden Rule we should from our abundance help and serve those less fortunately placed. We should bow in gratitude to God for his many favors."

                                               (thirtieth) President Calvin Coolidge, 1925

almost there

I had some windows open today while I did my work, it was so mild! The dampness didn't matter because I was using the oven. The cats were certainly happy.

The squash pie is in the fridge downstairs, and I made the gratin, too, also in the fridge - squash pie because I also baked some pumpkin cookies. The pie recipe is the same for squash, pumpkin or sweet potato, and I've made all three over the years. The squash has a light, thinner texture, the sweet potato is the most substantial. I like to use dark brown sugar for that one, light brown or maple sugar for the pumpkin pies. 

Half an hour before dark, I finally got a pot, and made it outside to cut those berries. I stuck them in with two dried hydrangea heads and - let's say it looks artistic. I'll soon be looking for evergreens, anyway, since Advent is almost upon us. Just as I was coming back inside, a skein of geese flew right over, dark against the cloudy sky, in formation and honking. They were heading east, but I'm sure they knew what they were doing.

feeding the birds

It's been very cold here, in the twenties for a few days. But after a warm breakfast I went out to see what's going on outside. I couldn't see too well, because for the past month I've been going around with one contact lens, but I just wanted some sunshine and briskness. 

I looked at the state of my garden beds. They seem well, and the overabundance of dried leaves has settled, and that's a relief.

Over in the corner near the new little cherry tree, some birds fluttered up when I drew near. I thought I saw some white stripes - was it a mockingbird? I suddenly remembered many years back in a cold, windy winter, when I made peanut butter and jelly sandwiches for a mockingbird living in the brush at the brook's edge. I'd throw it through the kitchen window, and he'd see me and come over. It's been so cold - I should go in and make a sandwich for the birds! I went back to the house. I made a nice sandwich, brought it out, broke it up and scattered it around.

I never saw anyone near there. Then it was time to go to the eye doctor. When I returned - (I can see, I can see!) - I thought I'd go over while I had my coat on. The pieces were gone! Hurrah!, said Fred, Scrooge's nephew. I agree with him. I'll have to keep it up. 

ready enough

 My brother: Tomorrow's going to be rainy, rainy all day.

Me: That's all right; we'll be cozy, cozy all day.

It has been gloomy every other day, it seems, but we need the rain. So it's all right. 

I was busy, busy all day. The squash pie is made, the bumbleberry pie my brother bought from a customer is cooked. I made the gravy from a very nice recipe through pinterest. The beds are changed, the laundry is done and things are clean enough, I suppose. 

We are ready, ready for Thanksgiving.

in a day's work

 Today, I made some cookies, roasted the butternut squash for the pie, and mixed up the pie dough. With cleaning and laundry in-between, and dishes, oh, so many dishes it seemed. The cookies are a buckwheat gingerbread, called gingersnaps but they are soft. The squash - well, that's a story. A blogger I like just puts hers whole in the oven, so I did. It took an hour and a quarter on three seventy-five and it was perfect. But I forgot about the seeds and didn't cut it in half afterward. So, when it was cool I began peeling the skin off and there everything got mushy and the seeds were embedded in everything and oh what a mess, trying to pick them out, so many of them!

I then got the idea to put it all through a sieve. Well, I've never done that before; it was a bit of work and I was tired. But on the other hand, now the seeds are out, and it's all smooth as can be from the sieving. 

Time to rest.

those who love and those who labor

 It's Labor Day. So I'll be Laboring over the chicken thighs roasted with Brussels sprouts, the cornbread, and the zucchini fritters. And the chocolate cake. 

Those who love and those who labor
Follow in the way of Christ;

Lo, the bread of heaven is broken
In the sacrament of life.

                               - from Magnificat, September 2021, from a hymn by Geoffrey Dearmer

No labor for our Dolly

when there is a will

One of the books I'm reading is The Enchanted Hour, by Meghan Cox Gurdon; the subtitle - The Miraculous Power of Reading Aloud in the Age of Distraction. She reviewed children's books for the Wall Street Journal for many years, read aloud to her own children, has done gobs of research and is expert on the subject.

On page 19 she tells that British poet Roger McGough's mother was so resourceful in finding things to read at bedtime during WWII when books were scarce, but she made sure he had some kind of bedtime "story" every night. He says: "By the light of a burning factory or a crashed Messerschmitt she would read anything that came to hand: sauce bottle labels, the sides or cornflake packets. All tucked up warm and cozy, my favorite story was a tin of Ovaltine. How well I remember her voice even now: Sprinkle two or three heaped teaspoons of..."

I am flabbergasted and amazed at this woman.

extremes of behavior

There's a fellow up the road who sells tires. His shop is behind another place and there's a bit of woods behind there. Periodically, my brother gives him bags of dry cat food - why? He has stray cats living inside the shop, and three of four shelters outside with a feeding station. We stopped by there after church to see; there was one sleeping in the window, a tough-looking ginger cat. They are safe in there, and cared for as much as he can. A good-hearted man!

I think the forsythia will bloom, after all! 


I think I was naughty today: at church, the pew I sat in had a stain on it from something dripping above. This is a recurring issue until the ceiling will be looked at, but my intent was to wet something to clean it off. I took my cotton handkerchief, but rather than go all the way downstairs to a sink, I dipped it in the holy water and used that. My knee has been suffering badly from arthritis lately, and I didn't want to go all the way downstairs to the bathrooms, although I am much improved. I don't feel as guilty about this as I probably should. I keep thinking of King David eating the showbread; of course, one can always find (good) excuses for one's errors. As for the hanky, I dried it out and will wash it by hand tomorrow and use the water in a plant.

at last, white

I don't know where I've been for the past week - distracted, anyway.

But we are having snow, finally. Snow actually on the ground, snow that makes it look like winter.

With a layer of icing on top. Not so welcome.  I made a mixture of seeds and peanut butter for the birds and hung it in front under the awning.

I hope they find it; small birds often hang around in that space, so they should. I had to bring it in to thaw once already, in order to chip off the ice layer. Tomorrow will be very cold, in the single digits, but only one day, thankfully.