I hope everyone had a lovely Easter observance. Our orthodox friends will have it tomorrow. The season lasts until Pentecost - we have a nice, long way to go.
"But after pondering Christ's Passion, we will spend the rest of April and beyond rejoicing in the light of his Resurrection, learning to come alive in his life."
- Fr. Philip Nolan, from Magnificat, April 2026
Our snow has been gone for a while; the temperatures are in the forties - a January thaw, I guess. There may be a snowstorm brewing for Thursday, but it's too soon to know any of the "ifs": if the storm develops, if it comes our way or goes another.
I sewed up two panels of red plaid fabric, lined, and clipped them up in the bathroom for curtains.
I like the sort-of rustic air of plaid, and I hung this wooden ornament on the rod, between the panels.
I heard mention of The 39 Steps, by John Buchan, on a podcast, so I got a copy of it. A short book, written in 1915, it kept me turning the pages. A man-on-the-run story, written in that very matter of fact style that was more common - well, I was going to say "back then", but I was thinking of the style of Raymond Chandler, and he came later. I mean that plain way of just describing everything without all the emotionalism which saturates the stories of our own day. It's rather refreshing for a change, and I'm going to try the next in the series, called Greenmantle.
I've been putting away some of the more obviously Christmasy things, but it all takes time. I am in no rush to get rid of Christmas. In recent years, we've had our holiday party afterward, because it's easier to relax and take the time for it. So, I got together with my co-workers the other day and it was very nice. To see young men enjoying the company of older guys and vice versa - it was great. We have a good group.
I'm enjoying the Christmas rest. We had snow again, on Friday, all night. It's been mostly cold, with a warm day every now and then to throw us off. But the roads were clear for our trip to Joanne's on Christmas Day. It will rain tomorrow and melt everything, and winter will have to start over again.
I got a surprise from England - dear Clare sent me chocolates! (They're almost gone, Clare - already.)
There seems to be a cat coming to the shelter at night; my brother suspected it, and then I saw him cross the bridge and come through the back yard on Monday, an hour before dark. He jumped onto our back step and looked up at the back door window! I was looking out but, strangely, he didn't notice me - he seemed to be looking at the curtain - he was being very cautious. He didn't want to be seen. So we're trying to use the front door after sunset, but I worked late on Tuesday and forgot - I heard a hurried scrambling and am afraid I scared him away. He seems to still be using the place, because the food gets eaten, but it may be he's coming later. Poor creature, to be so afraid of us! Where did he come from?
I've been thinking again about different ways of viewing the seasons. Winter officially begins on Sunday, and ends late March. Meteorologically, all of December, January and February are the winter months. But this article mentioned something I hadn't heard of before this summer, that there's something called solar winter, which is November, December and January. As for summer, and fall, I can understand a solar season. But there is no way, where I live, that February could ever be thought of as a spring month. And March - sometimes, maybe, a little. And so I figured that since this way of thinking dates back to the Middle Ages, it's a European way of thinking, maybe even British, where the climate isn't as harsh.
Then I picked up Towers in the Mist:
"It was February the fourteenth, ... The gray mist ... had in it a warmth and fragrance that told of the coming of spring. The smell of the earth was in it, a soft wet earth through which the snowdrops had already driven their green spears... It seemed all there behind the mist, the colors of all the springs that had passed and yet would come again, the riotous music of bird song and falling water that would pour over the earth in so short a while. In the darkest days of January one might doubt if it would come again, but on these warm February days one was certain."
- Elizabeth Goudge
And there you have it, straight from an Englishwoman.
I started the mitts for my friend two weeks ago and then didn't touch them again - for various reasons - but they go along quickly and I picked them up again last night.
I just need to stick with it.
I hope you all are on track with whatever your Christmas preparations are, and are also able to keep yourselves from anything unrealistic. There has to be some way of balancing one's hopes and expectations with one's reality, i.e., time and energy.
Make your house fair as you are able.
Trim the hearth and set the table.
People, look east and sing today;
Love, the Guest, is on the way.
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.
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.
It was very windy yesterday, and I was watching the oak trees blowing outside the window at work. We don't have oaks on our street. I was noticing how the leaves just dry and turn brown - no pretty color there.
Anyway, the wind was supposed to pick up overnight and we wondered if the trick-or-treaters would be put off by it. It really picked up sometime after seven fifteen, but we still had more kids than we've ever had since we started keeping track. The last record was 139, back in 2022.
I had just shut off the a/c, opened my side window, and was watching the pretty sparkle of the fireflies, when someone on the street behind us set off quite a colorful display of fireworks. So much for the quiet beauty of nature.
Daisy is in my back window, watching fireworks set off by another neighbor - it looks like a big sparkler, or something. Annie is on the hallway chair, which is brave for her; she isn't hiding. Our town event is scheduled for Tuesday, so this sort of nightly show may happen again. For the first time in days, I don't hear the mockingbird. Well, the creatures don't know what to make of the loud noises and I feel sorry for them.
I don't know where I've been - mentally - for the past week. I always mean to post, but something gets in the way. I am making a linen top: sleeveless and simple, and I've been researching various ways of cutting bias strips. There are many, and it's interesting! I have to bind the neck and armholes and didn't want to use the packaged stuff.
I've been experimenting with strawberry frozen yogurt, and frozen coconut milk pops, coffee-flavored. Something cold for the mouth must be kept on hand at all times in summer heat!
It was supposed to snow lightly this morning, from five till ten. But it didn't stop, and it's been snowing all day. With no accumulation! Still, there is something about snow falling, even if it doesn't mount up.
I made a wonderful discovery yesterday! I diligently use the little defuzzing machine on my sweaters, which works excellently, but I had the idea to try it on my opaque tights. They're made from recycled nylon and get pilly after a while, so that I have to toss them. I mostly wear longer skirts, so it doesn't show much, but eventually..........well, this worked like a charm!! My tights are like new - try it!
Right after I took this picture she reached over and flipped that tree onto the floor. For the second time. I moved it.
The snow is gone. That's okay - we had it! Once it comes, the season takes on a new aura, and winter feels like it's really here. And after a dreary and very rainy and warm day, today was bright sun and chilly. And tomorrow will be around the freezing mark.
We now have new storm doors! My brother found a fellow who could install them, and he did the front door this morning. They are easy for me to clean! I can remove the glass myself!
The glass part goes way down, and it is going to take some getting used to. I feel exposed, and Daisy didn't feel the same when I put the chair there. If they can get accustomed to sitting on the floor, then both of them could enjoy the view at the same time. But I'll keep on the lookout for a low bench, lower than the chair.
It affords a better view of the brave little cherry tree.
That is one deep split. I suppose eventually the left hand part will just crack and fall onto the driveway.
Frodo and Sam have achieved Mount Doom, and the ring has been destroyed.
I'm at a bit of a standstill with my dress; the back keyhole facing is not laying flat, and I'm going to put in a few handstitches to do the job. And so I plod along, decorating a little, sewing a little, cleaning a little, reading a little, preparing for the Child to come.
Make your house fair as you are able,
Trim the hearth and set the table.
I had a birthday, and there was snow! That always makes it ten times better.
Winter has started early, which has been a topic of conversation around here every day, but it's going to be more temperate this week, and maybe up near sixty on Wednesday. The snow is melting, even as I type.
We sang People Look East this morning at church; I think I always mention this in December, but the melody, the lyrics, the sprightly and hopeful air it has -
People look East, the time is near
Of the crowning of the year.
I love to sing it.
I haven't done any cards yet, and it's practically two weeks away. We will see what happens, and what doesn't.
From Isaiah 30: ...the Lord will make the glory of his voice heard in the joy of your heart.
The Thanksgiving dinner came out very well. We had leftovers once, and I had to put what remained into the freezer - we will appreciate it better after a bit of distance.
I'm taking a different approach to Christmas decorations this year, and I spent part of the day working on the living room.
A red bow would be nicer, but this is good for now; I may change this picture anyway, but I love this one, with the warm colored flowers of late summer, something discovered at a rummage sale.
I want to start making cookies, but may have to do it piecemeal: mixing up dry ingredients ahead, mixing up the dough the day before, baking one or two batches at a time, etc.. Whatever will work. It seems I do lots of things like that. It's another way of going forward.
I ran out at the blue hour, just to get some air. Very briefly.
"On the first weekday of Advent, we are reminded that the full coming of the reign of God through Christ, for whom we long, will bring trouble and pain to all of us in whatever sinfulness we are engaged in, but only to cleanse us to dwell in justice and peace in his presence."
- Magnificat, December 2024
The recipe for yesterday's ginger cookies is here. But I'll write it up, anyway.
2 1/4 cups buckwheat flour
2 tsp. baking soda
1 tsp. ginger
1 tsp. cinnamon
1/2 tsp. cloves
1/4 tsp. salt
3/4 to 1 cup brown sugar
3/4 cup olive oil
1/4 cup molasses
1 egg
Stir together the first six ingredients, then mix the rest well with the mixer, to ensure all lumps are gone from the brown sugar. Add the dry ingredients, then roll into one-inch balls. Roll in granulated sugar and bake at 375 for 9 - 10 minutes.
The original recipe says bake till the tops are cracked, but mine didn't crack, or get ginger-snappy. They are really tasty, but seem kind of dry-ish, so I wouldn't want to bake any longer than I did. I used the lesser amount of brown sugar.
from bungalowofblessing.com
What a warm day! Too warm, really, and I made soup because that's what I'd planned - could hardly eat it.
We had 154 kids come: lots of princesses, some inflatable costumes like chickens or dinosaurs (which made it difficult for them to maneuver, I could tell), some ghouls, a hot dog - with mustard, I'm happy to say and not ketchup. The second grim reaper asked me what his costume was.
me: The grim reaper!
GR: Correct!
me: Hey! Do I get a prize or something? (as he was walking off)
GR: Well, I'll see. Maybe I'll come back.
I certainly don't want that.
The first grim reaper had glitter. Less creepy.
And that's the end of October.
It's Labor Day over here in the U.S. It doesn't have a lot of meaning for the residents as far as I can tell, but it's a holiday, which is always nice.
I was finishing up my reading of Esther de Waal's, Seeking God: the Way of St. Benedict:
"...Christ is to be found in the circumstances, the people, the things of daily life. St. Benedict hopes that if we are continually aware of this we shall life our hearts to him and in this way our whole life will become a prayer in action.
The work of God has two senses: our offering to God and his work in us. ... that we live open to grace.
Well, it's the Labor Day weekend, and there was just now a lot of noise outside. I had no idea of Labor Day warranting a firework display, but we had it. Well, I was ironing and too busy to look out the window. I have no doubt poor Annie was hopeful it wouldn't last very long.
It fades - this green, this lavish interval,
This time of flowers and fruits,
Of melon ripe along the orchard wall,
Of sun and sails and wrinkled linen suits;
Time when the world seems rather plus than minus
And pollen tickles the allergic sinus.
- Phyllis McGinley
A couple of weeks ago I notice one of the tomato plants on the side of the house was wilting, so I watered it. Meanwhile, my brother came home and said he saw some grass clippings scattered around that plant and he surmised it might be a rabbit's nest, so he was just going to call that plant a loss. There are more rabbits around.
I just was coming up from the basement and heard him call to me, hurry up, but carefully! There's a mother rabbit nursing her baby right out here at the foot of the back steps. Oh, my word, there was.
It was a haphazard affair, I have to say: she was sitting upright and the babe was just sort of hanging underneath, doing its best. It's a wonder that rabbits survive. It looked kind of like this.
Anyway, this subject has almost trumped the fact that it's July 4th, and we had a nice time. I tried to make a red, white and blue dessert.
There's a bird who seems to sing when it's getting dark. He's the only one singing, and it's nice and loud, very melodious. Tonight, it made me turn to the window and there I saw a peach sky! I knew I wouldn't be able to capture it, so I just sat there, enjoying.
I think I saw our little patient in the garden this morning - at least, it was a small rabbit; there's no way I'll ever get close enough to tell if it's him.
It's very much like summer now. We are going to have days in the nineties for the next five days; they're warning us to be careful. I made dinner early in the day, and that was the smartest thing I did. It didn't heat up the house much, and I had that work behind me.
Somebody just set off something quite loud out my window. It's nine o'clock, and dark. My brother said it sounded like a cherry bomb. It sounded to me right out my window! Well, as long as they don't do it all night.
I am putting the green dress aside - in this weather, it seems heavy. I can't stand the thought of it! I've got some pretty deep blue lawn and I'll choose a skirt pattern for it. Something nice and floaty, I hope.
I discovered a new bread cookbook, and the method is quicker and with a much wetter dough. The loaves are small but I don't care about that. This is something I won't mind doing in summer, if bread is needed.
The birds are quieter, the fireflies are increasing and a mockingbird sang a brief concert on the power line. The air gets more humid, but nights are still pleasant; the rabbits are more used to our human noises - there was one out my window yesterday afternoon while my neighbor was mowing nearby!
My little garden crops are getting bigger and there aren't any weeds due to the grass clippings all around.
My dress needs the side seams sewn and then it will look like something. I wake up with the sun in the mornings, but am too tired at the other end of the day.
I want to plan a menu for the longest day of the year, which is next week. It's supposed to be hot. I'll have to take that into consideration.
It rained much of the day - it's pouring now - so I imagine the parades were cancelled. There were no military plane flyovers, which I always look forward to. We still had our little celebration, though. And I've got some Italian bean and butternut squash seedlings.
BIRCHINGTON CHURCHYARD
A lowly hill which overlooks a flat,
Half sea, half country side;
A flat-shored sea of low-voiced creeping tide
Over a chalky weedy mat.
A hill of hillocks, flowery and kept green
Round Crosses raised for hope,
With many-tinted sunsets where the slope
Faces the lingering western sheen.
A lowly hope, a height that is but low,
While Time sets solemnly,
While the tide rises of Eternity,
Silent and neither swift nor slow.
- Christina Rossetti
