and you thought journalism was dead

 With all the mentions I've made of Raynor Winn's The Salt Path over the past few years, I feel it incumbent upon me to make this post.

I was on youtube yesterday when a little video popped up. This one. A reporter at The Observer dug deep and found out that the Winns' real names are Sally and Tim Walker They are basically embezzlers and tax evaders, for a start. Three books were written, to acclaim, and now the film is out; I've been waiting for it to show over here. Now, I don't think I can bring myself. The full article - very thorough and interesting - is here.

I really am stunned. Of course we know these things go on. But it was a great story, and so hopeful, the way Moth seemed to get better after these long hikes they went on. They're not even sure now about the truth of his illness, and that whole part of it.

What really amazes me is that she has done so many interviews, her face has been everywhere, for those who've been following their story, and didn't she think that someday they'd be found out? That nobody they've ever known would be watching the news? What will happen now? You can run, but you can't hide forever, and especially not when you're famous. Incredible.

About "journalism". This reporter, Chloe Hadjimatheou, did a stellar job. But there is altogether too much of this: 

But I do agree with them on one point: They are extremely dangerous to our democracy.

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

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.

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

new doors at last

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.

the case of the missing pattern piece, and other things

Not the temperature they predicted, but Monday was sixty-five:  mild, hardly breezy and wonderful for a day off. Now we have finally gotten into the forties for the daytime. Outside, everything is burnished. That's November.

I picked up a biography of Samuel Adams, cousin to our second president, John, and according to British officials of the time, "the most dangerous man in Massachusetts". Considered by Paul Revere, John Hancock and cousin John Adams as their "political father", and called "truly the Man of the Revolution" by Thomas Jefferson; it's a young adult book, but full of information and interestingly written. I really knew very little about him; now I know he failed at every job he undertook. He only seemed good at "talking and writing about the rights and liberties of the people". I love reading about this era.

I have returned to a dress I was planning to sew a year ago; I don't remember what happened. I had started on the bodice, and - ?  So, now I'm ready to attach the skirt part, but I soon realized I hadn't cut them out. Okay, there's plenty of fabric there, so I looked for the pattern piece. All the pieces were there, except for that one - it was nowhere! But, looking at the shapes from the layout examples, I am sure I can just make a guess. There are center seams front and back, so - four pieces, and they're a-line. I just have to figure out how big the tucks should be and how much fabric to allow for them.

My brother had a birthday. I gave him a book of the meditations of Marcus Aurelius. He is liking it, and surprised at how interesting the observations are. 

The Christmas cactus at work is setting buds.

Things are getting more intense in Tolkien's The Two Towers, with Gandalf and Pippin flying away on Shadowfax, his tail flicking in the moonlight. Then he leaped forward, spurning the earth, and was gone like the north wind from the mountains.

a complaint

 Any American my age is going to know what I'm talking about. When we were kids, the storm doors were light-weight, made of aluminum. It would slam after you if you let it go, but the sound of it would definitely be in the memory of anyone who had one of these doors. It's a summer sound, an American Summer Sound. 

They also were easy to clean, and I could take out the glass panels with no problem, whenever I wanted. The ones we have now are considered a step up, but ever since we got them, I have to enlist my brother to get the glass out. It isn't easy for him - he has to bang it and struggle with it. Well, years have gone by, and the rough treatment he gives it is taking its toll - on him, yes, but I was referring to the doors. There are bits flying because parts are getting brittle. It's not worth it! We are looking into new doors, and I don't think I care what they cost. I want to be able to remove those panels myself! We'll see if they make anything like that anymore. I'm feeling a little skeptical.

the cats enjoy the lower view these doors provide

summer things

 We had a humdinger of a storm yesterday, while having dessert and trying to do the wordle. It wasn't dark and threatening, but very loud and bangy. It was dangerous enough - there was a "severe thunderstorm warning", as they call it. 

And the humidity: it's been a rough summer in that way. A week or so ago, I was recalling how I used to bring Dolly out and we'd sit outside on a quilt for a while - often. I realized I wasn't doing anything of that sort, and determined to start. But - well, frankly, when it's ninety out and very humid, it isn't conducive to any kind of enjoyment. So, I'm in the house, keeping busy. This week is going to be very much cooler but still humid. We'll have to see how that feels.

I wore my blue skirt to work the other day and found that the buckles on my sandals - both feet - were catching on the hand-stitched hem. This skirt is down near my ankles. So I'm going to have to machine-sew it. Most modern store-bought clothing has a machine sewn hem, but it's nice when you make your own things to hand sew it. Not this time, though.

I was unprepared for dinner today, so I whipped together another cassoulet with lots of fresh vegetables and some leftover meat. It worked, even though I'd hardly plan such a meal at this time of year. But of course the air was on all day. We had to eat something. The ingredients I used wouldn't have half so nice if served up separately. 

My beloved bedroom chair is a painted rattan, and the cats - well, mostly Daisy - have been picking at it on the lower legs. She has taken off parts of the wicker that goes around the leg, peeling it off, so to speak. I got some tape of the same dark green color and covered those areas. Now it looks so much better. 

You can see they also pick at the rug. And everything else in the house. 

I have almost finished The Yearling, but I know what happens. I looked ahead the other day - why, I can't say what caused me to. And I was sorry, so sorry that I thought I couldn't finish the book. But after a while I remembered how I'd been liking it, the writing, the well-drawn characters, and I'd known to expect a difficult ending. But I didn't guess how painful it would be. But I decided to keep reading, and I'm just about at the hard point now. That's all I'm going to say.

May the Lord, our God, bless us in all our works and undertakings. Amen.
                                                            -  Deuteronomy 15:10

the poor gardener

I just went out the water my little garden - the air is hot. Our Julys are not usually like this. Anyway, I went out there and saw that somebody ate the tops of my two bean plants and much of my curly parsley. The rabbits, I suppose; there are many of them. 

I am a poor gardener, but I'll keep going, because I like the experience of gardening, and learning how to grow things. I hope they don't eat all my plants!

surprise climbers

 My brother bought a packet of Italian bean seeds to plant - we liked them so much last year. It wasn't long before he noticed the tendrils and had to put up poles for beans that were supposed to be the bush variety. 

At least they are Italian beans; the packet wasn't entirely mis-labelled. 

July Fourth holiday supplanted by rabbits

 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.

She must have seen my brother's movements as he tried to take a photo, and ran off. The baby wandered around the driveway. 

On the same subject, he was mowing yesterday evening and complained afterward that three times a young rabbit suddenly appeared in the grass and ran off - he is very dismayed to think he might run one over some day, as they're impossible to spot. 

everything on the table was blue, so I had to find a red something

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.

Raspberry crisp with blueberry coconut "ice cream".

June projects

 We're in a drier spell right now, except for when there's a thunderstorm, and in hot, humid weather, thunderstorms will occur. What I'm getting at is water in the basement. We have had a couple of instances of it, and it's not from a crack in the foundation but is seeping up from a saturated soil around the house. It wasn't much, but my brother decided to dig a hole outside, let it dry out and then paint it with tar. 

When the tar dries, he can fill up the hole and things should be all right. Here he has plywood over the hole, in anticipation of some rain. Last night there was a storm we didn't expect, and while it was thundering and pouring, he realized the hole was uncovered. The other day he scooped out eighteen gallons of water - it's ongoing. 

So, the ground is saturated, but the brook is sluggish - figure that out! It's been very hot, but considering the wet weather we've had in past months, is it possible the brook can dry up so easily? It has dried up in late summer many times, in a drought, but not in rainy seasons. 

So I put away my green linen dress and am working on a blue lawn skirt. It's a pretty blue - what would I call it? - I don't know, a cool medium/dark shade. I'm usually drawn to prints, and it's strange working with a solid - almost boring, but that's ridiculous.

"When he gave us our air-rifles Atticus wouldn't teach us to shoot. Uncle Jack instructed us in the rudiments thereof; he said Atticus wasn't interested in guns. Atticus said to Jem one day, ' I'd rather you shot at tin cans in the back yard, but I know you'll go after birds. Shoot all the bluejays you want, if you can hit'em, but remember it's a sin to kill a mockingbird."

                                       -  To Kill a Mockingbird, Harper Lee

another Memorial Day

 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

suddenly it's summer

 The scent of grass as its being mowed. The musical conversation of the catbirds. Going from flannel to muslin nightwear, overnight!

The lawn is a little squishy, but the sun came out and it's going to be full summer for a few days this week. I went out to the garden to spread some compost and grass clippings around but am still not sure if it's ready for plants. But I don't have plants anyhow - I set up the greenhouse nice and early, but never started any seeds in the house - the thought of Daisy getting hold of them made me hesitate and then I was paralyzed. Meanwhile, April winds knocked the greenhouse over twice - good thing it was empty at the time. And all the rain we've been having, and not being sure the raised bed was quite ready - well, looking back I'm actually glad I didn't start the seeds without being certain. I'll just have a late start.

Yesterday was Pentecost. "In our labor, rest most sweet; grateful coolness in the heat." And now the season of Easter is over.

personality, and other things

My project today was to finally do my state income taxes. Now I can relax. I never intend to leave them till the end, but I keep putting household things first. A dumb idea, in certain circumstances. 

 Our weather this week has suddenly turned warmer, and the clothes in my closet are not entirely suitable for temperatures in the sixties and seventies. This has got me scrambling. I am also thinking about what I'd like to sew next. I like this Nepheline blouse. 

I was starting on the soup, sauteeing onion, etc., and I saw Leo outside, or maybe it was Leon - I have never seen them together, so am never sure. He was in the driveway; I tapped on the back door and he saw me. I went back to my cooking for a while, but Daisy somehow realized he was out there, and when I returned to the door, he was on the step.

He smelled the food, I'll bet. I put the chair there for Daisy to get a better view. 

He didn't stay very long - I hope he went home to Dianne. Some of her cats are true wanderers, wanting to be outside all the time. I was just about to say it was a little excitement for Daisy, but she doesn't really need anything like that for stimulation; she is submerged in cat madness lately. 

Can you guess what this is?

She started pulling down my bath towel the other day. She did it twice. But I have a solution.

I just need to unpin it before I get in the shower. I mean, to remember to unpin it.

I took this during the eclipse, in a quiet moment.

The Medieval Mind of C.S. Lewis is very interesting. The author, Jason Baxter, quotes Lewis:

"In all previous ages that I can think of the principal aim of rulers, except at rare and short intervals, was to keep their subjects quiet, to forestall or extinguish widespread excitement and persuade people to attend quietly to their several occupations. And on the whole their subjects agreed with them. They even prayed (in words that sound curiously old-fashioned) to be able to live "a peaceable life in all godliness and honesty" and "pass their time in rest and quietness." But now the organization of mass excitement seems to be almost the normal organ of political power. We live in an age of "appeal", "drives", and "campaigns." Our rulers have become like schoolmasters and are always demanding "keenness." And you notice that I am guilty of a slight archaism in calling them "rulers." "Leaders" is the modern word. I have suggested elsewhere that this is a deeply significant change of vocabulary. Our demand upon them has changed no less than theirs on us. For of a ruler one asks justice, incorruption, diligence, perhaps clemency; of a leader, dash, initiative, and (I suppose) what people call "magnetism" or "personality." 

staying dry

 We had rain all day again; so much that I ordered the groceries for delivery. 

Puddles everywhere.

But we were cozy in the house, and I made broccoli soup. Which is so easy, so little effort, and while it's cooking, there's the onion, garlic and chicken broth aromas, which are very salutary when you've recovering from a headache. That, and tuna sandwiches were a perfectly fine supper.

I made the casing for the skirt today, and I've got to thread the elastic through it to see if I like the fullness. If it's too much, I'll have to re-do one of the side seams to make it narrower. Which is a relative term, since it's going to be as gathered as will look well. It's a very drapey and thin-ish rayon fabric, so it shouldn't be bulky even with a lot of gathers. We'll see how it looks.

I make small granola batches on the stovetop, which are very fast to do. The other day I was about to put away the rolled oats, when the container dropped and oats went all over the floor - I probably spilled two cups or more! Without a second thought, I scooped them off the floor and put them back in the box. Please don't imagine my floor is clean; I just could not bear to lose those oats, so I put the idea of any grossness right out of my mind instantly. But I also told myself that maybe I should make a batch every day for a while, basically to keep my eye on any unwanted somethings in the container, rather than be wondering if any crawlies are in the box. To use it up sooner than later seemed a good idea. So I made another batch today; it takes fifteen minutes or less from start to finish. And I didn't find anything unusual in the oats, so far. 

Well, Holy Week is upon us. There is a little piece in Magnificat today about Elizabeth Jennings, the poet. She struggled with mental illness, but her poetry and her faith kept her going.

Teach me how you love and have to die
 And I will try                                         
  Somehow to forget myself and give        
   Life and joy so dead things start to life   
    Let me show now an untrammeled joy     
     Gold without alloy.                                    

Something to remember for this week, I think.                           

just a complaint

 I don't know what this looks like to you, but it's a new book that's coming apart at the spine. 

One of my jobs at the library is to repair books, and in the past few months I'm seeing new books - some brand new - just falling apart, way before their time. It isn't rough treatment by the patrons; they are poorly made. 

a bit about St. George

 Well, it did snow yesterday to freshen things up a bit and the cold continues, with today being the coldest - but it didn't end up as cold as predicted. And, as we came out of the grocery store we felt a very fine snow again! It continued for a few hours and now it's all a beautiful soft white blanket out there.

Daisy has been helping me pack away some of the Christmas things.

I'm sure I don't need to elaborate.

There's a piece about St. George in Magnificat this month which surprised me. As we all know, Shakespeare died on his feast day, April 23, and was either born or baptized on that, too. And there are the legends, that he slayed a dragon. That's about all I ever knew of him.

The article says he died around the year 303.

this book is lovely, by the way

"Saint George is generally considered to have been a soldier-martyr under Diocletian. He was canonized in 494, but gained enormous popularity during the Middle Ages as one of the Fourteen Holy Helpers, who were specially invoked during the Plague....George is also a beloved patron of England, in whose battles he has a long tradition of miraculous intervention. As recently as 1914, British soldiers, about to be overpowered by a larger German force, reported a winged army around them, calling upon their leader: either Saint George or Saint Michael, depending on the account. The German infantry paused their onslaught, and the British forces escaped destruction. Later, German prisoners mentioned their surprise at seeing the British using longbows again."  emphasis mine

What a story!! 

The above book was illustrated by the late Trina Schart Hyman, whose work I love. I also am fond of a book of John Updike's poetry about the seasons, for children, also illustrated by her.

January

The days are short,
The sun a spark
Hung thin between
The dark and dark.

Fat snowy footsteps
Track the floor,
And parkas pile up
Near the door.

The river is
A frozen place
Held still beneath
The trees' black lace.

The sky is low.
The wind is gray.
The radiator
Purrs all day.

-  John Updike,  c1965.

Simple in their descriptions, but greatly enhanced by Trina's wonderful paintings.

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?

the two rascals

 I bought an extra bag of dry cat food; I put it in the basement. 

Not long after, I was down there doing laundry or whatever, and there the two of them were, with a tear in the bag - they were snacking! I brought it upstairs, put the torn bag into a larger plastic bag, tied it up and put it on the fridge. 

Well, Daisy found it up there and was trying to get into that bag. So, I had to pour it into a few small - bite proof - containers.

They've never done this before - must be very tasty stuff.