everyday wonders

 For the wonders that astound us,
for the truths that still confound us,
most of all that love has found us,
thanks be to God.

- words by Fred Pratt Green

beautiful summer day

 Such a beautiful day! The haze from fires in Canada has been enough to make your eyes burn, but not today! Dry air and a breeze.

Our plants are giving us so many tomatoes - I don't mind eating them. I did cook some down last week, but they're very juicy and not really suitable for sauce - too watery. Try this: cut up a few fresh tomatoes from the garden. Add a splash of water, some olive oil, lots of oregano and plenty of salt - probably more than is good for you. It's the oregano, it makes it all kind of vinegary. You may add some onion powder, if you wish.

I have four yards of a cotton check fabric, and am trying to decide on a pattern, looking at pinterest photos and dresses online. I keep changing my mind; meanwhile, the summer is moving along. 

In Magnificat this morning I read, in 258, St. Cyprian wrote that the Roman emperor Valerian issued an edict to the Senate. Bishops, presbyters and deacons were to suffer the death penalty without delay. One of the first to be apprehended was Pope Sixtus II and four of his deacons as he said Mass along the Appian Way. All were beheaded. 

"Let all people fix their minds not on death but rather on immortality; let them commit themselves to the Lord in complete faith with joy rather than in fear, knowing that in this contest the soldiers of God and Christ are not slain but rather win their crowns."

                                             -  St. Cyprian

acts of faith

May twenty second, and this is as warm as it got. We've been living in a dream world with summer-like temperatures, to the point where it seemed foolish to not plant some things in the garden. It's been steadily ten degrees warmer than normal, the ground was warmed up - why wait? But tomatoes are not hardy and night temperatures going down lately into the forties; my brother covered them up a couple of days ago with plastic.

And here we are this week, with three days in a row supposed to be in the fifties, except today, with rain all day, it never got even that high.

"Planting is an act of faith."

-  Gladys Taber

puddles and puzzles

 It rained all day, and everything is puddled. It was a winter rain, it couldn't be described as a spring shower, at all. But I used the oven and made chicken tetrazzini, to warm us up.

The crabapple tree is full of crabapples - I don't know what to do about it. They should have been eaten, or fallen down, right? In a month, these trees should be blooming, and will the fruits get in the way? Will they cause a problem. I'll have to go outside and examine it up close. Did they go bad? We'll have to find out.

And on the subject of trees, our young kousa dogwood seems to have the bark gone near the bottom part - we assume it's our rabbit neighbors, since they're known to eat tender bark in the winter. We'll see how that tree does, if it can continue without the bark. Also, my brother says they chewed his blueberry bushes down to the nub. Live and learn. We enjoy our rabbit friends, and we'll work on ways to live together. 

flicker at the feeder

From this morning's reading, on John 13:34 -

"God is love. God is self-emptying on behalf of the other. But this means paradoxically that to have God is to be what God is - and that means giving one's life away.

Now we see the link between joy and commandments; I give you a new commandment, that you love one another. Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another. And now we begin to understand the laws, commands, and demands of the Church. All are designed to make us more adept at love, at giving ourselves away. Don't steal; don't kill; don't covet your neighbor's goods or wife; honor your mother and father, worship God. All of these commands - positive and negative - are meant to awaken love and make it possible."

                                -  Bishop Robert Barron

Empire apples, at last

 I found some Empires! 

And there's a cranberry apple pie in the oven. 

a kitchen day

 I couldn't get the chick photos off my tablet for some reason, so I'll have to take some more tomorrow. They grow fast.

I made the pear sauce in the crockpot today, with some ginger and vanilla; it's in the freezer now, for Thanksgiving, maybe. It might be nice over ice cream or gingerbread, too. And four of the avocados got turned into chocolate mousse pudding. I was glad to discover the recipe in my box, because the link on my Pinterest board goes nowhere - the original site is gone. 

I rarely see rabbits anymore, but my brother seems to see them after dark, in the front yard. It rained today, a gentle on-and-off rain and before it got too dark I saw one, almost camouflaged against the hedge. They seem to like it when it's wet out. 

He wasn't moving, just resting, I suppose. I really wanted to wash this north window in my room, but the kitchen detail kept me busy. When you buy almost ripe or overripe produce, you have to put other things aside. Although I'm sure I could be more efficient with my time. But I have pear sauce in the freezer and some nice healthy-ish chocolate pudding for snacks, if I need one. And dirty windows and bathroom wallpaper I want to finish removing. 

pears, parsley and other things

We're having some nice weather, but it still feels like summer, just late summer. I can hear the katydids outside now. 

A customer gave my brother three beautiful eggplants the other day, but they are hard. It threw me to feel them; they never feel hard from the supermarket. I asked somebody who's grown them and who loves eggplant. She said they're not ripe if they're hard, and they may not soften up. But I'll give them a little time and see if anything happens. I hope we can use them! She said maybe I could slice them up, salt 'em and roast. If they aren't too bitter. 

 I saw a license plate today that said AWSUM. 

They had bags of pears on sale at Stop & Shop. I think I'll make some pear sauce in the crockpot when they get softer. And there was a bag of six avocadoes on the reduced produce shelf for two dollars. I am not crazy about them, but maybe I can make a batch of chocolate avocado pudding. 

My Panasonic iron finally gave up the ghost after fourteen years of ironing two or three times a week. I bought an Electrolux from Amazon - terrible. It doesn't glide! How can you iron with something that doesn't glide well? And the dial is underneath the handle and hard to move. It's just a terrible design, and I need a good iron! Back to the reviews. 

I like the way people hang up their fresh herbs to dry from hooks in the kitchen. I bought a bunch of parsley and ties up some small bunches, hanging them in four places above the sink. You-know-who was watching me; she may jump on the counter overnight and try to reach them. She was even chewing on some of it that fell out. Annie, on the other hand, seemed repelled by it. She's the sensitive one. I remember the time she gagged after sniffing a banana. (sorry, Annie, but I thought that was funny)

before the time of ripeness

"Despite the nervous scramble of the servants when they discover weeds growing in his field, the master of the house himself does not appear the least disconcerted by this sudden report of sabotage. He immediately knows who has sown the weeds, and the calmness of his reaction hints that, even before he sowed his wheat, he must have realized the probability of such a hostile act occurring. Nevertheless, sow it he did....But the real surprise comes at the master's reaction when the servants, overcome by anxiety, want to dash into the field and pull out the weeds on the spot. Rather than becoming obsessed like them with the presence of evil, the serene farmer....does not think that the power of the weeds to choke is superior to the power of the wheat to grow and thrive....

An abstract conception of 'evil' can trigger in us a reckless compulsion to purge our world prematurely "literally so: before the time of ripeness), according to our own notions of purity and impurity. We always assume, of course, that we are ourselves among the pure, the children of the light, and that we are therefore born purfiers; and yet our very compulsion to purify at all costs bespeaks an ignorance of the essential, which is life and its growth, and also betrays an interior fear of contamination. Rather than abiding secure in my identity as son of the kingdom and one born of God, I seek to eradicate what I most fear for myself, what I fear is perhaps already lurking within me.

The master, by contrast, reacts with prudence and patience in the face of evil. While the fanatical servants want to destroy in the name of purification, the wise Lord wants to preserve, in the name of life. His ultimate objective is to save as much as possible for the harvest. The fact that there is disharmony, vitiation, in the field of the Church and of the world is apparent to all, but only the Lord of the field and of the harvest can see beyong the confused present state of things. The disciples are prompt to take purgation (and, hence, God's judgment) into their own hands. But only on God's explicit command may they intervene radically in the stage of the world, when and as he orders. Until the time of the harvest at the end of the age, it is their business to preach the Gospel of repentance, both to themselves and to the world. Jesus' explicit commands to them have nothing to do with judging and purging. Quite on the contrary, his last words to them would be: Go and make disciples of all nations."

                                            -  Erasmo Leivo-Merikakis

funny tomato

 I was cutting up tomatoes (yes, we still have some!) at suppertime and grabbed this one. The shape reminded me of the so-called ugly tomatoes at the supermarket, which are usually some heirloom variety. They tend to have a pumpkin-y appearance. But the top of it made me hesitate - this is a pepper. How weird! Not that it's red, because the green peppers do turn eventually, but the shape. 

Funny, isn't it?

two kinds of splendor

 We have a lot of these.

Today was the feast of the Assumption of Mary. At Mass on this occasion the priest will bless the fruits of your garden, whatever they might be. I wanted to put some things in a basket to bring, but waking up with a headache really got in the way. My brother threw a few vegetables in a bag and that was ours, in the midst of the attractive baskets at the altar. Oh, well. 

I finished Gatsby. I had no idea how Shakespearean of a tragedy it was, but I can see why it's considered the Great American Novel. Then I went on Prime and watched half of the DiCaprio version; I will say he did very well with Gatsby, but the whole production seemed so over the top - I don't need to watch the whole thing, I know what happens. When the Robert Redford/Mia Farrow Gatsby came out I didn't go to see it but I went to Cape Cod with a co-worker for a weekend. I have a definite memory of a walk we took and how we came upon an evening cocktail party. It was dusk and we could hear the clink of glasses and murmur of voices. The area was upscale - a nearby house had a built-in swimming pool, in a room by itself, lit-up, just before dark - this was 1974. The whole vibe I got was an elegant 1920s one, or what I imagined it to be. 

Through the power of his Resurrection, Christ has adorned Mary with the robe of his own grandeur and majesty, and arrayed her with glory and splendor. These garments of salvation are the revelation and crown of the holiness with which she lived her life on earth.

-  from Magnificat, August 2022

birds and berries

 Now we have grackle babies, and I like to see them. I like blackbirds, maybe because they aren't vain.

I also like blackberries.

from the supermarket

Someone returned a Mary Oliver book at the library and I took it home, but haven't got past the first poem.

AUGUST

                                                 When the blackberries hang
                                                  swollen in the woods, in the brambles
                                                  nobody owns, I spend

                                                  all day among the high
                                                  branches, reaching
                                                  my ripped arms, thinking

                                                  of nothing, cramming
                                                  the black honey of summer
                                                  into my mouth; all day my body

                                                  accepts what it is. In the dark
                                                  creeks that run by there is
                                                  this thick paw of my life darting among

                                                  the black bells, the leaves; there is
                                                  this happy tongue.

adventing

It seems about two weeks before Christmas I get the urge to bring out more glitter and shine; this may have something to do with Gaudete Sunday, which was yesterday. Now things are looking more like Christmas around here, but I haven't finished yet. 

I organized another shelf in one of the basement closets, and it's so neat now. There are some cake pans, birthday candles, cookie cutters and colored sugars and other sprinkles, etc., and I tend to use those decorations at this time of year mostly. I haven't made any cookies yet, but I think I'll do better by making quick drop-type cookies, and maybe scones and some cakes which I can slice into portions to give people. Nothing too fussy or time-consuming. 

The bathroom floor is scrubbed and shining. I feel like I'm getting somewhere. 

The orange slices I dried last year still look good - I may do some more. 

Dolly was fussing at us so much earlier this evening - she had food nearby, so we didn't know what was the problem. After quite a while, I put her on my bed on the green quilt and turned on the radio. Immediately, she began to settle and talk in a contented way. Dolly, I apologize that I didn't think to turn it on before! I can't believe this is what she actually wanted - since, when she complains, it always sounds the same, and we always think she's saying,  "I want food". Everything she says sounds the same! Poor Dolly. But she seems to take comfort in hearing the music nearby.

Meanwhile, I am following along this Advent with Malcolm Guite's book, Waiting for the Word, a poem each day with commentary by himself. I love it. 

frosty mornings

 We've been having frosts at night. The other day I picked the rest of the little crops - I say "little" because it was all small peppers and itty bitty tomatoes. But they're all in now and I have to do something with them.

When my brother tilled the garden, he left the marigolds blooming along the edge, so I ran out and cut a few for inside.

They look nice with copper, but they're rather stinky. 

"pumpkin" scones

 I bought a calabaza squash at the supermarket; it was pretty big. After roasting it whole, it was well cooked inside after only an hour and a half. 

I then scooped up the flesh into a Very Large container, which it filled, and we had some with our roast the next day - it only needed some butter. There was a lot left.

So many seeds in that thing, I thought I should save them -

they should make a nice addition to granola. So then I found a pumpkin scone recipe. It barely made a dent. 

Really good! (But the orangey color isn't so appealing, is it?)  Still, it's really kind of fun to have the challenge of using up this squash. Next, probably a pumpkin bread.

from sublime to ridiculous

Someone gave this lovely basket to my brother filled with juicy tomatoes and even a dish towel. Very thoughtful. 

Tonight I combined all the cherry tomatoes with a can of cannellini beans, olive oil, salt, pepper and some chili powder, into the oven at 375 for somewhere around 40 to 50 minutes. Added some fresh Italian parsley and dried basil. I'd just seen an Elliott Homestead video where she made it and it caught my eye. Of course, I know my brother views small baked tomatoes as shrunken heads* - yes, I did remember it - but they were going to go and this looked awfully good. And it was! And he just came to me to see if he could eat the rest of it - yes!

*I had previously thought he called it bog people but now I realize it's shunken heads.

Before Henri the storm was due, I cut a clutch of red roses from the bush and brought them in.

They're still looking pretty good. 

The binding was disintegrating on my brother's summer blanket. I wanted to make a cotton binding to replace it, but I don't have any fabric which strikes me as really looking nice with it. Then I found a packet of blanket binding somewhere in a drawer. The blanket is tan, the binding light blue, but I like it.

It's a well-loved blanket with a patch, but we don't bother about such things - he likes it. And I realized after removing the old binding that it's there just for show, nothing is going to fray. There was only enough for one end and I'm going to leave the other end without.

In an etsy shop, there was a key fob with a saying on it:

"The problem with quotes on the internet is that you cannot confirm their validity."

-  Abraham Lincoln

gifts

 

I think these tomatoes are beautiful, even though a bit gnarly. They're not ours. All the rain last month was too much for several of our plants; not the best gardening year for us.

I made a zip pouch today, using a different method and I like it much better. 

The previous one had hand stitching near the zipper, and kept getting caught in it - this is neater. The lining is from an old skirt of my mother's and the print is from Debra. I think the green zipper makes a nice color combination.

I'm finishing up A Circle of Quiet, and here she's talking about how we want to excuse ourselves when we do something wrong:

"We need to be forgiven:
     we need to be forgiven in this grey atmosphere which clogs the lungs [c1972] so that we cannot breathe, and breathless, spiritless, can no longer discern what is right and what is wrong, what is our right hand and what is our left, what is justice and what tyranny, what is life and what is death.
      I heard a man of brilliance cry out that God has withdrawn from nations when they have turned from Him, and surely we are a stiff-necked people; why should He not withdraw?"

                                                       - Madeleine L'Engle

local wildlife

My brother came in from doing yardwork and said he discovered grape vines growing across the brook. And grapes, planted by the birds, and he only found them after trying to remove some overgrown bittersweet vines - there were grape leaves, and grapes, behind a rhododendron and some arbor vitaes. I put on my little wellies and went out to see. 

I passed by the apple tree - it's getting more sun these days since the nearby tree came down, but it's scrawny.

There are plenty of small but clean looking apples, but the leaves look diseased.

I continued on my way. See the group of three arbor vitaes? The grapes are behind them.

I picked a few small bunches which were mainly purple. But why didn't I taste one first? They are as sour as a lemon. If we wait till they're bigger, or darker, I'm not so sure the sweetness will increase. So we're not sure what to do. The birds planted them, perhaps they should enjoy them. Or, whoever. Many of the leaves have scale, but the fruits all look perfect. I don't know what creatures would eat them - maybe foxes? Raccoons, opossums? I removed a thick bittersweet vine which was winding around a shrub nearby and left them.

 I realized I haven't seen any rabbits for several days, when they're usually around somewhere. Then it dawned on me that perhaps there are babies, and the family is laying low. So, I will be patient and hope to see some little bunnies in a couple of weeks, possibly.

This afternoon my brother called to me, to come to his window quickly, and look out. What did I see but a dinosaur walking down our street. I'm not kidding! It was one of the upright ones, T. Rex or something, but no worries because there was someone walking along with it. Of course we both said get a camera! but I had cat food on my fingers and was rather stunned anyway; it isn't every day - you know. But we both came to ourselves rather late and with our cameras ran out into the road. 

It was quite tall, as you can see. I remember one year before my neighbor-friend moved to Maryland - she called me one day to say a young deer had strolled up our street, and it seems she was the only one to witness it. This tops that story, I think. 

three weeks in a row

 Three weeks in a row I've gotten fresh strawberries. First, I made shortcake. Last week I made some freezer jam.

But this time, I think we should just eat them.

useful footwear

These perforated clogs were a smart purchase. They make it easy to walk in wet or muddy ground - I wear them when I water the garden or have to go out in the rainy yard. They'll also be a help if I ever have to get into the brook (when it isn't dried up).

July's end

My co-worker, who forgot her lunch yesterday said she'd rather run naked down Main Street than eat a sardine. I told her I would mention this on my blog - she said as long as you don't give my name. 

July is over. The air conditioning has been running every day, it's been so August-like all month. The tomatoes are growing larger but are still entirely green. Except that yesterday as I watered the little garden near the house, I thought I spied some red, way at the bottom and behind - one red tomato, on the bottom of a plant and in back, near the house - where the sun doesn't shine! Now how could that thing be first to ripen when it was virtually in the dark? 

It's a year since Mr. Kibble died, and a year since the Orphan arrived.

I have missed sewing, and realized that I could use a blouse or top to go with my blue and white knit skirt. I'm tired of looking online, so I'm intending to make one. I'm going to use an old sheet, and the top section of a dress pattern, and we'll see what happens next - I'm sort of copying something from pinterest.

I keep forgetting to mention that my British Country Living magazine has been coming on time and I realized by ordering direct (instead of through Amazon) I am saving about twenty five dollars a year!

I've been reading Linnets and Valerians with the Elizabeth Goudge book club on instagram. "The drive was long and bumpy but glorious. The heather and ling were beginning to colour and the gorse smelt like peaches in the hot sun." Does gorse, in the hot sun, smell like peaches? I would like to know that.