the course of human events

 The pie came out well, I decorated the table with lots of red, white and blue, I made strawberry coconut milk ice cream and we stayed in with the air conditioning. Of course! One has to make the most of things. I wore my latest dress creation - the coolest thing I own.

I was hoping I'd hear some bells ringing if I stuck my head out, but I suppose city dwellers would be more likely - nobody near me was ringing any bells. I would have rung some, if we had any. I even had the idea to dig around for some little Christmas bell decorations, but I stored my ornaments differently this year and have no idea where they are! I would have rung anything if I could have just found it! 

We were talking a bit about the founders: what made them persist, what gave them their momentum to  shake off the British and start their own government. It's easy to give up, especially when the average person complains in the pub, but that's about all. I did read a book about Samuel Adams where the author gave him credit for never letting go of the idea to throw off British rule; he was constantly talking about it, planting the idea in people's minds. I need to find more books about that. 

And after a week of extreme heat, it was barely seventy today, and raining. Cold air was actually blowing in! I'm happy for the creatures - I couldn't tell if anybody was drinking from the little trays I set out with water. The rabbit above was out in the rain for a while today, and didn't mind the wet at all. Maybe the leaves he ate were jucier.

"just live your ordinary life"

 "Whoever said that to speak about Christ and to spread his doctrine, you need to do anything unusual or remarkable? Just live your ordinary life; work at your job, trying to fulfill the duties of your state in life, doing your job, your professional work properly, improving, getting better each day. Be loyal; be understanding with others and demanding on yourself. Be mortified and cheerful. This will be your apostolate. Then, though you won't see why...you will find that people come to you. Then you can talk to them, quite simply and...about the sort of longings that everyone feels deep down in his soul, even though some people may not want to pay attention to them: they will come to understand them better, when they begin to look for God in earnest."

                                                                     -  St. Jose Maria Escriva

resisting the machine

Spring is definitely in the air! It's warmer, but not terribly; but the birds are singing, the daylight lasts longer, the paths my brother plowed for the rabbits are showing grass! Everything feels like it's coming alive. Under the surface, of course, except for the birds - they're the ones who show it.

I am almost finished reading Defending Middle Earth by Patrick Curry. I picked it up when it was dropped off at the library. I do not exaggerate when I say that not a day goes by when someone does not drop off books at their local library - at least, I assume it happens everywhere; it sure does where I work! And of course I have to look through them. 

Anyway, Mr. Curry defends the Lord of the Rings stories, and their focus on the simple enjoyments of home, community and nature. He tries to explain the popularity from different angles. I feel I should read it again, so I put a note in it to that effect. Anyway -

"Why can Tolkien's 'mythology' be described as universal? I have already shown that it embodies an attack on unchecked modernity in all its worst aspects, and presents a world of community, nature and spiritual values that successfully, albeit barely, struggles to survive such destruction. That world seems to be a different one, with strange people and places; yet at the same time, it is also recognizably ours. And because the processes of rampant modernization - economic, political, cultural - are now truly global, the potential appeal and relevance of Tolkien's attack and alternative are also effectively universal. This is a social and historical development; there is nothing necessarily mystical about it. 

But his universality comes about in another way, too. For the very terms of his critique are mythic; after all, that is ultimately the most (and perhaps even only) effective way to counter a worldview which is rigidly rationalistic and scientistic. And there is literally nowhere in the world without some native tradition of a mythical way of relating to the world in which it is alive and saturated with spiritual meaning - enchanted, in a word. Those traditions may be deeply buried, but - like the gods they embody - they can still be revived by recognition."

This book was published in 1997, and even back then he was speaking of "re-enchantment". There's a lot of talk about this: that, in a nutshell, we have lost the ability to take true delight in the world, and we need to re-enchant our way of seeing things, like they did in the Middle Ages. 

There is an article in Plough by Paul Kingsnorth about this very thing, speaking about his new book, Against the Machine: "Its modus operandi is the abolition of all borders, boundaries, categories, essences, and truths: the uprooting of all previous ways of living in the name of pure individualism and perfect subjectivity. Its endgame is the replacement of nature with technology, in order to facilitate total control over a totally human world."

According to Patrick Curry, the popularity of the Tolkien books shows that we really don't want a world like that, whether we realize it in this way or not. 

Brothers and sisters: We speak a wisdom to those who are mature, not a wisdom of this age, nor of the rulers of this age who are passing away. Rather, we speak God's wisdom, mysterious, hidden, which God predetermined before the ages for our glory, and which none of the rulers of this age knew; for, if they had known it, they would not have crucified the Lord of glory,,,, For the Spirit scrutinizes everything, even the depths of God.

 -  1 Corinthians 2:6-10 

crow on the shed

faces

 "I used to be a stupendous mouse-killer. Our Connecticut mice eat anything at all from my best wooden stirring spoon to a down cushion. They shred everything. But, on the other hand, there is a kind of look in the eye of a frightened mouse that arouses odd feeling in me. The beady, shiny eyes look out, so aware, so desperately aware. The small polished nose quivers. The tiny delicate paws tuck under, for defense."

   
                                               -   Gladys Taber

Have you noticed all the jumping spider videos online? They're popular pets, for the moment. The thing is, they have faces, which of course, changes everything, doesn't it? 

There is one that looks like an old man.  Rather cute, isn't he? And there's a young woman with several of them; she's made a pleasant habitat and she sings to them. Edelweiss, of all things. Here's another.

What I'm leading up to is - in the living room the other day, at the big window, and a little jumping spider dropped down in front of me. They move fast, and before this I would, as quick as possible, squish it. Spiders, more than anything, creep me out. But now - well, I was actually trying to see if this thing had a face. Too small to tell. But I find I can no longer just kill a spider so cavalierly, a breed of spider that has personality, and a face!! But they move fast. I ran to get a container and a paper, and actually managed to capture it and get it outside. I don't know what will happen next time; if they get away, they just grow bigger. That is a creepy thought, a bigger spider lurking in the house. But then, maybe I'd see the face. 

nothing is wasted

 "Our difficulties, whatever they may be, can all be used. They are redemptive. Many, many saints experienced various degrees of mental and emotional suffering and anxiety, and their experience, painful as it was, had profoundly spiritual effects on themselves and others. The anxiety is true at the level of felt experience, but at a deeper level, at the level of spirit and faith, something quite different may be happening. Even in anxiety one can have a real sense of God's love and possess faith.

And it's important to recognize that feeling low, depressed, is an emotional state, not an action. This does not cut you off from God in any way. Those who suffer this affliction have not yielded to it, any more than one yields to a broken arm or leg. So it is never a question of yielding to a sinful action - that would be a far deeper wound - but rather a condition.

But this condition is not meaningless. Prayers to God for help and relief are real prayers and signs of an active faith, hope, and love. This recognition of our need of God, and learning to trust him, are very precious. In all these ways there can be real growth in the midst of, and in spite of, anxieties. Also, these experiences, painful as they are, often bring a deepening compassion for others. All of us have something to carry - whether physical or moral or spiritual - and, united to Christ, these become fruitful for ourselves and others."

                                                    -  Sister Mary David Totah, O.S.B. from Magnificat, February 2025

All emphases are mine. Sister Mary David Totah was an American who later became a Benedictine nun at Saint Cecilia's Abbey on the Isle of Wight. She died in 2017.

a bit of snow

This looks like a good snowstorm, right? Well, the predicted six to ten inches ended up being -
not quite four. Honestly. 

Of course, we weren't longing for a load of snow, but they hype it up so - and the drama on the weather sites - there are terrible earthquakes all around the world, volcanoes erupting - snow in New England is to be expected, for heaven's sake. So I made a little cake, with spices and pumpkin. And some dark chocolate pieces. 

"I have tried to make life a creative art... Happy homes are very important, I think, far more important than you realize, and God knows how many of them have been built up by the sacrifice of private longings. I am inclined to think that nothing so fosters creative action as the sacrifice of feeling. It's like rain coming down upon the corn."

                                                                -      Elizabeth Goudge, The Bird in the Tree

a lot of snow on the way

 It's supposed to start snowing any moment, but the sky is too dark. When it's going to snow, the clouds are so thick, it looks whitish. But we are getting - some are saying five to nine inches, some six to ten - a good amount, and it will come in its own good time, I guess. But this morning, I hung something on the line to dry! It was just over freezing, but there is something mild in the air - it's hopeful.

We went to Mass this afternoon, in case it's too bad tomorrow. A lot of others had the same idea. One of the hymns we sang was In Christ Alone, which is rather stirring - an Irish-sounding melody.

I've put Samuel Adams aside (again! poor fellow) and am finally reading Hillbilly Elegy. I have been interested in that book for eight years, and now he's Vice President - it's time. What kept me from it, was the idea it would be heavy, but it's not. In fact, the introduction really grabbed my attention; I often skip introductions.

"I was one of those kids with a grim future. I almost failed out of high school. I nearly gave in to the deep anger and resentment harbored by everyone around me. Today people look at me, at my job and my Ivy League credentials, and assume that I'm some sort of genius, that only a truly extraordinary person could have made it to where I am today. With all due respect to those people, I think that theory is a load of bullshit. Whatever talents I have, I almost squandered until a handful of loving people rescued me.

That is the real story of my life, and that is why I wrote this book. I want people to know what it feels like to nearly give up on yourself and why you might do it. I want people to understand what happens in the lives of the poor and the psychological impact that spiritual and material poverty has on their children. I want people to understand the American Dream as my family and I encountered it. I want people to understand how upward mobility really feels. And I want people to understand something I learned only recently: that for those of us lucky enough to live the American Dream, the demons of the life we left behind continue to chase us."

                                               -  J.D. Vance, Hillbilly Elegy

At five minutes to ten, it hadn't begun to snow yet. At ten fifteen, I looked out - the ground was almost covered.

And I baked a fancy quick bread recipe, because I always want to bake during snowstorms.

"the purpose of education"

 "The purpose of education, finally, is to create in a person the ability to look at the world for himself, to make his own decisions, ....But no society is really anxious to have that kind of person around. What societies really, ideally, want is a citizenry which will simply obey the rules of society. If a society succeeds in this, that society is about to perish. The obligation of anyone who thinks of himself as responsible is to examine society and try to change it and to fight it - at no matter the risk. This is the only hope society has. This is the only way societies change."

                                                          -   James Baldwin, from Plough, Winter, 2025

"How Samuel Adams supported his family starting around 1769 is a mystery. With his brewery closing that year, his only steady income was his small salary as clerk of the Massachusetts House of Representatives. According to gossip, the Adamses were so poor at this time that John Hancock and other friends sent them food to keep them from starving and repaired the Purchase Street house to keep it from falling. There was even a joke around Boston about Adams's letter writing: 'Samuel Adams writes the letters and John Hancock pays the postage’.”

Dennis Fradin, the author of this biography, says that Samuel Adams never held a good job when he was younger, he was more of a thinker. And it seems that our revolution would Never have come to pass without him. He knew we needed to revolt against the oppressive British rule and he never stopped insisting on it, trying to stir up the populace. 

mercies

 I think I need to stop relying on Accuweather for my forecasts - they said we'd maybe have a dusting of snow yesterday morning, by eleven o'clock. There was nothing when I went to work, and it didn't look like snow. I brought my boots anyway. Mid-afternoon it began to snow and snowed all day. Although there was little accumulation. But it's cold out now, so it isn't going to melt yet, so it's pretty out for a while.

I awoke with a headache, and the Exedrin didn't do the job, so I had to take some more. I sipped my lavender tea, and it got better, but didn't go away. So I had to go grocery shopping with the headache in addition to only being able to see half as well as I usually do. Some Twinings tea caught my eye; it was on sale. There was something called Winter Spice which looked nice, and even though it was mainly chamomile, I bought it. I'm not keen on chamomile, but it was Christmas-y - can you buy Christmas? Because a lot of things which seem to have the proper aura do appeal to us, don't they? We buy them, thinking this it it.

Anyway. I got home, put away the food, fed the cats, started some laundry, and decided I would sit quietly for an hour, then get busy doing whatever. I made a cup of my new tea, sat down with some books, and promptly feeling tired, dozed off. It wasn't for long, and I awoke to find my tea lukewarm. I took a few sips, and realized the pain over my left eye and near my left ear was diminishing. I drank the rest. My headache was finally (almost) gone. I need to take another look at chamomile as a help for my headaches. I also have felt rather too relaxed for the rest of the day, but I've learned a new thing about herbs and I'm grateful!

O come, thou Dayspring, come and cheer
Our spirits by thine advent here;
Disperse the gloomy clouds of night,
And death's dark shadows put to flight.

just when you think things are going well

 I had an appointment today at the eye doctor; I had to go two days without my contacts! I managed around the house, but it was weird. You can easily fall into your own little world, if you're as near-sighted as I am. I had to go without the lenses to allow my eyes to go back into their normal shape. Well, I had the days off; I was able to cook, wash dishes, do laundry, read. I cleaned, but at times it felt like going through the motions, since I couldn't always tell if I was getting the result I wanted. :D I made cookies today. I worked on my dress - that was strange. Bringing it up to my face so I could see it, but it was a strange perspective. Still, I managed. But I'm behind with the Christmas cards now, since you really need to see what you're doing for something like that. And, type - I tried writing a blog post, but it was too awkward. 

There is a lesson in all this. 

Even the hour when wings are frozen
God for fledging time has chosen.*

Meanwhile, Annie got a couple of non-adjuvant vaccines yesterday, and was a bit off. Daisy seemed to realize this, and when Annie went to sleep in the spare room, Daisy stayed nearby on the bed. What a nice little buddy.

*from People Look East

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.

preparation

 October continues in all its beauty, with the past week's temps down into the fifties, which is lovely when it's sunny. But now we're moving into a few days up into the seventies. That will also be lovely, and I can hopefully get the bulk of the windows cleaned.

There was one day last week when I got the Wordle in two tries - when that happens, it's always pure luck.

I have to work tomorrow afternoon, so I prepared a casserole for Sunday dinner, since we had leftovers from Thursday, and I had the time. I peeled and cut up one of the butternut squash I grew - amazing how things grow from seed. The recipe appeared in a magazine we get at the supermarket, and this issue has several things I'd like to make. For this one, I had the squash, I had the kale, the onion, and the exact amount of cooked chicken from the whole one I roasted the other day, after making chicken and tortellini soup Thursday. 

I only had to buy the Swiss cheese. It sure looks good!

The supermarket had a special on packages of Larabars, but not every flavor. I only have liked the peanut butter ones: the plain, and the chocolate chip. But those weren't on sale, so I took a chance and got the Chocolate Raspberry Truffle. Oh, my. They will make an excellent afternoon pick-me-up. 

This morning before rising, I read the chapter on the council of Elrond, in Lord of the Rings. So much wisdom imparted to Frodo and his fellows as they prepare to bear the ring to Mordor:

The road must be trod, but it will be very hard. And neither strength nor wisdom will carry us far upon it. This quest may be attempted by the weak with as much hope as the strong. Yet such is oft the course of deeds that move the wheels of the world: small hands do them because they must, while the eyes of the great are elsewhere.

                                                               - The Fellowship of the Ring, by J.R.R. Tolkien

earthquakes in various places

 A co-worker yesterday said to me, Did you know there was an earthquake in New York this morning? No, I was pretty busy at the main desk, handing out eclipse glasses. But those who were upstairs at the library felt it. 

California often has quakes, and when there's a northern Cal earthquake, I think of Gretchen, but she never mentions it. Is that because she's so used to them? But, it's not a pleasant thing to think about.

woodchuck in the neighbor's yard today

The water company emailed to say they would flush out the mains today between eight and four thirty. I got up early to wash the dishes and run laundry through the washer beforehand. I was home all day, and kept checking the water - it never happened. I never saw them up the street at the hydrant, and the water was fine all day (although I avoided using it, I still checked it). 

Jackson Galaxy put up a video the other day about the ingredients in canned cat food. Afterward I went and looked through the cupboard. He said carageenan is linked to cancer in cats, two ingredients with phosphate is a bad sign, or a phosphate too high on the ingredient list. Also, starches of course, like potato, pea, corn, etc.. I was surprised to see a few questionable cans in our stash. So, I threw out some of them, but the reality is, like us, cats may like the flavors of these undesirables. I mean, how much junk food have we liked in our lives? So, it's good to be aware, and then to find the balance between something more healthy and something kitty likes to eat. 

sunset tonight

The desert and the parched land will exult;
the steppe will rejoice and bloom.
They will bloom with abundant flowers,
and rejoice with joyful song.

- from Isaiah, chapter 35

a small mercy, and a great one

Annie had a checkup at the vet's today. She weighs eleven pounds and a little. We were both sure the doctor would prescribe a diet for our Annie, but he said her weight was fine! I still can't believe it. We feel badly that she is (seems?) a little heavy, but it's because Daisy just won't, or can't, eat all her food at the proper time. So, she cries relentlessly a bit later on, and if you get her some food, Annie hears you, of course, and there it all goes, downhill. You can't feed one without the other. But, I guess it's not as bad as we feared. Small mercies.

 One of the windows at church.

Now let us all with one accord,
In company with ages past,
Keep vigil with our heav'nly Lord
In his temptation and his fast.

incremental living

 Advent began a week ago, and with it I started on the Christmas cards. I figured out that if I do five cards each night, I'll have plenty of time to send them all, with only a minor effort and maybe fifteen minutes spent. So far, it's going well.

It finally dawned on me that I cannot clean the kitchen all in one day. Well, of course I could, if I didn't do much else. I'd rather not do it that way. So I made a list of what tasks cleaning the kitchen consists of, and I do as many of these on kitchen day as I can, and then the next day I'll try and do just one more. And the next, etc. If it's after working all day and I'm tired, I won't, but it's always in the plan, and if I can do it, I will. But, I'm going forward.

It's impossible to get a nice photo of the counter, but I put got Daisy's FortiFlora packets in a Christmas cup and I made room for a tree. The bowl where we save pop tops for a friend has silver snowflakes on it. The red package is a gift of wine, and it looks festive, so there it sits! It looks much better in person. You'll just have to come over. :)

For years, at certain sunny times of the morning I'd notice how dusty the cabinet doors were, but wiping them all down thoroughly is a big deal, and then they get dusty again in no time anyway. After years of this futility, I got the notion to count them; there are twenty seven, plus two sections I also need to wipe down. So now, I just wipe down cabinet number one on the first of the month, the tenth cabinet on the 10th, etc. It takes seconds, and there is no more dust to be seen. On Sundays and holidays, I just don't do it and those get wiped the next month. 

Right now, I'm also trying to bake for Christmas and decorate, so there's always too much going on. And in between, I try to keep up with my reading and sewing. I prefer it this way: doing a little of this and a little of that. It all seems to get done, or enough of it does to make a difference. Does this all seem nutty to you, or does it make sense?

taking time

 We are having two days with temps in the sixties - how wonderful. I emptied out a bag of compost into one of the raised bed squares. 

It looks pretty full, but beneath it is dry leaves and some branches, sort of a hugel mound; I know it will settle and go down. Lentamente.

I've got the last Anne Perry Christmas mystery - I look forward to them every November, and like most of them. This is it, since she died this year. The main character is a woman in her eighties and I keep thinking that Ms. Perry was perhaps describing herself on these pages? 

After deciding not to use interfacing in my dress (mainly because I didn't have any), I found some in a small drawer where I didn't expect to see it. So, after the facings were sewn together, I cut out a piece and ironed it on. I think it will help stabilize things when I have to slash the back opening.

before I ironed it on

I get an infrequent newsletter from a Benedictine monastery (not the one I've mentioned here before), which I enjoy reading. In this issue is a story - a legend - that coffee was first used as a stimulant in Ethiopia in the 9th century. A goatherder noticed his flock getting excited after chewing on some red berries. He mentioned it to a monk who was have problems staying awake during prayer times, and that's how coffee drinking took off. The author of this newsletter says monks still depend on it when they have to get up for Vigils, which are prayers said around 3-ish. They don't go back to bed after that.

The other day there were leaves of gold all over the street in front of our neighbor's house, near the corner.

"Last night's heavy frost loosened the golden leaves and this morning, when the school bus came, they were falling like confetti. Still it was noon before you could notice any diminishment of leaf on the young maple by the driveway. By that time the sharp-pointed leaves covered the ground under the tree, like ruffled gold feathers covering a bird's body."

-  Rachel Peden

whoever has an ear...

 I have encountered, tonight, video after video on youtube, the same message.

These prayerful people, Protestants I think  GOD SPOKE TO MY WIFE ABOUT A GREAT SHAKING THAT IS COMING - YouTube

Then, I saw another, same message   God gave my wife a vision. Theres a great shaking coming, a shift happening in the spirit. Take heed - YouTube

I know this may seem disturbing; this whole world is disturbing, and becoming more so. I have no problem believing any of this. But I really am not intending to comment about it, just to pass it along.

Prophetic Vision: GOD Will Shake The Heavens And The Earth - YouTube

a garden saga

 The very rainy weather pattern we were in seems over, and it's actually been September-like at times, in the high seventies and how eighties. Amazing! And very welcome. But all my plans for the backyard garden were foiled and now I just have to learn from this and forge ahead. 

Do you see the long grasses in there? Just one week ago I went in to pull up some weeds after the weather had changed. There was standing water in there along the edges, and the weeds I pulled up were not only in muddy soil, which I expected, but sopping, dripping mud. There was really no point in continuing. I realized that raised beds are what I need to think about. I don't know if today, one week later, it was much drier, but today we're having a very rainy day, rain on and off all day, so there is really no point. The rain today is normal for summer, falling straight down, cooler breezes coming in the windows - it's nice. But that area down there doesn't need any more water, unless I want to grow rice. 

My brother had told me in the spring that he wanted to focus on the side garden - he works long hours and doesn't have so much time - so I said I'd work in the back garden. 

His MO for the garden was always to rototill, and then plant everything close together, so the plants could help prop each other up to a certain degree. He would incorporate some compost with each plant he put in, and then use MiracleGro for fertilizer. He told me that the point of growing your own veg is to spend as little money as possible, to make it worthwhile. And, to be fair to him, he had to make good use of what little time he had to spend on it. But I have different ideas (and probably less realistic than his).

I told him not to till, that I didn't want to weed seeds to be turned up by the tiller. I was just going to try and keep up with them as time went on. When I began in mid-May, it was kind of muddy in there, but I bought a few savoy cabbage plants and onion sets and put them in, along with some mushroom compost from the garden store down the road. I had no idea of filling up the space, as it is a good size and I didn't want to overwhelm myself; I thought I'd buy plants a little at a time, and compost as needed, clearing weeds as I went along. I developed a vague memory of a weeding implement, dug around in the basement and found my cape cod weeder - a fantastic tool for weeding! When the ground is dry, there's nothing like it for cutting those weeds out entirely; when the ground is moist, you can usually just pull them up by hand. 

So, time went on and I bought the rosemary plant, a garlic chive, and some oregano, just whatever caught my fancy when I was at the garden place, and I got some chicken manure fertilizer, the dried sort. I took care of my plantings, the cabbage was growing nicely and I also got an heirloom tomato called Black Russian - I do love the heirloom tomatoes. My plan was to see how things went, and maybe cover parts of the garden with cardboard if I thought I wasn't going to plant there, to keep down the weeds. I was going out in the cool mornings, watering and spreading grass clippings around the plants.  I had a plan. Then it started to rain. 

At first, I just waited, but it would shower every day, it seemed, and more like a downpour. And at times when I couldn't go out. Then, it was all so wet, there wasn't much point, and I thought it would pass. But it lasted three or four weeks, along with steady excessive humidity, the whole time. The cabbages were ruined. The tomato was, too. I didn't think to put them in pots - I didn't know it would last so long. 

I read somewhere once that Leonardo had many failures; he kept going. There isn't much point in my being mopey - I just want to learn from this episode. I was telling my brother at dinner that I'm going to get raised beds. He can't see putting out any expense for them, considering how they need to be filled, etc. But there are a lot of helpful gardening channels on youtube - like Huw Richards, an amazing young man who's had a channel since he was a child, really, and he has frugal and sensible ideas for gardening. I don't mind the expense in order to establish things.

We'll see how it goes.

pilgriming

 Our author, after studying the medieval methods of Hildegard von Bingen, wanted to go on the popular pilgrimage of the day, the one that begins in Santiago de Compostela, Spain and goes into France. Because of her responsibilities at the hospital, she had to break it up, doing part of it - over three or four years, I forget which. She found a friend to go with her.

Rosalind and I began to organize the second section. We would walk for two hundred miles through the south of France, and we would begin in our footsteps of the year before. We flew to Paris, took the fast and slow trains to our starting point, and spent the night in the hotel we'd left the year before. Then we put on last year's clothes, fastened our shells to our packs, lifted up our walking sticks, and took the next step.

Our doctor then tells about the mainly uninhabited lands they pass through that day, and the monastery they will rest at overnight. They have to be there by seven or will miss dinner. Period. They realize they won't make it. 

It was way past seven when we arrived. As we walked through the monastery's gates, flushed and thirsty, our of the main door came a tiny, very old nun in a dark blue habit and white wimple. She, too, was flushed and sweating. But she was smiling. Her eyes behind her glasses twinkled. She said in French, "You made it! We were so worried! Come in." 

We followed her inside. With its stone floor, stone walls, and stone ceiling, the monastery was cool. 

"Put your things here," she said, showing us the stone washroom. "Wash up...and hurry. We've delayed dinner for you."

They ended up having one of the best meals ever, and enjoyed the company of the other pilgrims then, and throughout the pilgrimage. I had my own room, whitewashed and plastered, with a sleigh bed of walnut and a rope mattress. In the night, there was a thunderstorm; in the morning, there were the monastery bells, and out of my window I could see the nuns' medicinal herb garden down below. The longest and hardest day turned out to be the opposite of what I'd expected. And over and over again, for the rest of that second section, that's how things would turn out. That was the main lesson I took from the pilgrimage that year.

During that second section of walking I began to see that a pilgrimage had a rhythm, a dailiness, just like at home. Every day I awoke, ate breakfast, started walking, and things happened. People showed up; I had adventures. Some I liked, some I didn't. Some I expected to like and did not like; others I expected not to like and did like. I began to see that the unexpected - the inattendu, the unawaited-for, as the French have it - was the only thing I could expect. One was presented with an experience, a person, whose value one did not know in advance. What seemed to be good might be bad; what seemed to be bad, good. One didn't know; one had to wait.

That waiting to see how it would turn out was what made pilgriming different from ordinary life, I began to see. And that year I learned I didn't have to leave it with my last footstep. If I wanted, I could take that kind of waiting home and have my daily life become a kind of pilgrimage.

With that open expecting, I discovered that a day at the hospital was even more interesting. One never knew. All one knew was that there would be a beginning and a middle and an end to the day, just like on a pilgrimage. And just like on a pilgrimage, characters would appear - patients, nurses, deliverymen, doctors - with spiritual and moral messages, if I chose to decipher them. Sometimes in words, sometimes in actions, sometimes in silence.

                                                  - from God's Hotel, by Victoria Sweet

have your figured out that I think everybody should read this book?