a gift

Once or twice I've mentioned a wise old man. I learned much from him, spiritually, I mean.

He was acquainted with a hermit - yes, a real hermit, the Catholic variety. He passed away in March of this year.

I knew him a little. He lived in this town for a little while twenty or so years ago, and would say Mass at the old man's house, and I was able to go sometimes. Those were special days for me. The hermit, Father P., was good with wood and there was a crucifix he'd carved at the old man's house. They both told me that they wanted me to have it, when the time came.

The hermit ended up in Belgium; the old man didn't forget. When my brother and I visited him a year or so ago, he had my brother write my name on the back of it.

Well, the time came, and the old man died two months ago, at the age of 101. And now I have the crucifix on my wall.

It's large-ish, but surprisingly lightweight. I have no idea what wood Fr. P. used.

I am honored to have this.  Eternal rest grant unto them, O Lord. Let perpetual light shine upon them. May they rest in peace. Amen.

dizzy inside, sparkly out

The weather has been terrific this week, but my sinuses are terrible, so I'm inside for the most part, with a stuffed head but of course the windows are open anyway - who could resist? Yesterday after having a cup of tea (green tea!) I became off-balance for the rest of the day, almost dizzy.  No tea now for a while. (is tea related to ragweed?) But I still appreciate the beauty of these perfect days. There is a difference between a breezy summer day and a breezy autumn day. The rustling of the trees sounds different. And the sparkle in the air when the sun is out is only there at this time of year.

I'm not sure that sparkle is quite the right word, since it also seems like one is looking through a very thin veil of something which makes it slightly less clear, but more glimmery. And maybe you think I've got an overactive imagination.

I figured out how I'll do my quilting on this thing, finally. I don't think I'll change my mind anymore after this; the third time is the charm. I'm happy with it, but more stitching will have to come out (again).

reading Homer

I have found a few podcasts I really enjoy, and right now, Close Reads is going through The Odyssey of Homer, using a new translation by Emily Wilson, which we happen to have at our library (I asked my boss to get it). I can't believe I'm reading this! But when you've got a few interesting and appealing personalities discussing a work, it helps to carry you along.

It isn't ponderous at all but quite easy to follow, and the people in the podcast know about that era, so any cultural gaps are easily filled in during the conversation. I don't always listen to Close Reads, but this time I am. The Circe Institute also has a Daily Poem podcast, and The Play's the Thing, which is all Shakespeare. They are doing Othello right now, but I've put that aside to read the Homer.

But that's not the only thing I'm surprised to be reading. The Literary Life podcast did a few short stories over the summer, all of which can easily be found online, and one of them was by James Joyce of all people. (Now, I have to say that I never thought I'd ever read James Joyce; since I didn't go to college, I never had to read any.) Then there's another podcast at the BBC with Melvyn Bragg, called In Our Time , on every subject imaginable; I pick and choose with those.

Podcast listening takes time - they are mostly an hour or more, at least the American ones. I just try to fit it in here and there.

"Even a fool learns something once it hits him."

-   Homer

getting back to my projects

I had started quilting on this project a couple of months ago and then left it, but today decided to rip it out and begin again differently. Then I turned around and found that it was occupied by somebody.

It matches her yellow eyes.

"His creatures' home"

Spirit seeking life and beauty,

Heart that longest for thy rest,

Soul athirst for understanding,

Only thus can ye be blest:

Through the vastness of creation

Though your restless thought may roam,

God is all that you can long for,

God is all his creatures' home.

                                                                      - from Magnificat, September 2019

"just pay attention"

Praying

It doesn't have to be

the blue iris, it could be

weeds in a vacant lot, or a few

small stones; just

pay attention, then patch

a few words together and don't try

to make them elaborate, this isn't

a contest but the doorway

into thanks, and a silence in which

another voice may speak.

-  Mary Oliver

the best medicine

Not that I'm needing medicine, particularly. But I was laughing.

Trying to change the sheets on my brother's bed today, and this one - up against the wall, under the bed, popping up like Jack-in-the-Box, diving down again. Madness. But I was desperate to get a photo and got one just barely, because when I stopped she wouldn't appear. I almost gave up. I laughed. A lot.

The wild asters are more white than anything this year. There are some clumps of them on the edge of the garden in back.

They're usually a pale purple.

A month ago I cooked up some slightly wilted salad greens and made a sort of stock, which I froze in a few quart containers. I wanted to make soup today and thought of them, so I defrosted one. Well, it took a lot of thinking to figure out what kind of soup wouldn't mind being greenish; I decided on minestrone. It just looks a little muddy, which is fine. Only a slight down-side.

The cold last night wasn't too, and now it's going to get warmer for a while, the way it usually does.

cold night

The weatherman said it might go into the thirties tonight - he said, "Take your plants in!" 

I tossed some thrifted sheets over the very tall tomatoes; covered the pepper plants with cut-open trash bags and then a piece of fabric which hopefully won't weigh them down very much. After this it will warm up again.

aging

The things are three

   Which I discern

Less easily

   As the years turn.

Three things seem sliding

   From my sight:

The line dividing

   Wrong from right;

Whereto we hie

   From where we've been to;

The needle's eye

   A thread goes into.

   

- Honest Confession, by Phyllis McGinley

feeling good about being frugal

I'm rather pleased with myself today in the food department, with regard to two things.

trouble

First: I had defrosted some leftover chicken on Saturday and decided to make chicken salad sandwiches for supper. Well, there was a lot of it and we didn't finished it up. What to do? It isn't my brother's favorite, so I really couldn't serve it again. I think it was the mayonnaise which reminded me of this recipe, because it's got mayo in it already, but first I had to make this. That was fine - as long as I plan ahead I can do it easily. For the vegetables I used up a combo of broccoli, carrots and leftover green beans; it really is delicious.

Second: On Fridays I usually make an omelet for my brother's dinner. I had whisked up the eggs when I remembered that he'd eaten egg salad for lunch! So I poured the eggs into a jar and made him something else. But I wanted to use those four eggs. I recalled that Newmarket Cake - sounds very English, doesn't it? - uses four eggs, so I made that and it's snug in the freezer now.

There was a time (not so long ago) when I would intend to make use of these things, but would forget. I guess I've reached a higher plane now. Except in the photography department; I have no record of these triumphs.

Newmarket Cake

3 oz. chocolate chips

2 T. coffee granules

3/4 c. water

2 tsp. vanilla*

8 T. (1 stick) butter

1 1/4 c. sugar

4 large eggs

1 T. baking powder

3 c. flour

2/3 c. chopped pecans or other nuts

Cream butter and sugar till fluffy. Add eggs, one at a time. Beat in b. powder. Mix together the water and coffee, and add it alternately with the flour. Stir in the nuts and chips. Bake in greased and floured tube pan (that's what I like to bake it in) at 325 degrees F. 55 to 65 minutes. 

I believe this is taken from a book called "Tea Breads and Coffeecakes" by Elizabeth Alston, but I'm not sure. It was in a magazine many years ago and I made it frequently. One day I realized I'd lost the recipe. I honestly don't know how I tracked it down, but I did - and this was before the internet. That is how much I value this recipe! I think of it as a nice alternative to coffee cake, which I'm not crazy about. 

*And I just realized I left out the vanilla. Do you think anyone will notice? 

things going missing

Don't leave any bills, or notes to yourself on the table.

They don't disappear entirely (so far), but generally turn up down the hall. On the floor.

too close for comfort

If you want to know precisely how Sweetie feels about Annie, this photo tells it all. I was surprised the little one even jumped up there beside her; Sweetie didn't see her at first.

cream scones with currants

With my fall capsule menu in mind, what better thing to do with a box of currants than make cream scones and add some in?

They are in the freezer.

This little one had another shot today and she gained two pounds! In the last four weeks! That is double her previous weight, when we took her in. She still seems tiny to us.

Don't cats know how to look comfortable? But she was very tired from the shot, and the pill and the ride in that thing that she didn't like being inside.

all buttoned up

I guess I'm a bit behindhand with the photos lately.....but I didn't take a picture. My brother asked me to look at his summer sport coat, the buttons. They were getting too loose, so I said I'd re-do them.

When I noticed the absence of a knot on the wrong side, I thought I'd better inquire into the right way - a.k.a. the neat way - to do it, and I found this video.

The original thread was similar to embroidery floss, so that's what I used. The instructions were thorough and very clear. All done!

This is a cute channel with two guys trying to show how to behave like a gentleman - good luck to them!

totally unrelated to the subject at hand

so sweet

This is a very poor quality photo, but I had to take it anyway. Dolly was on the back of the chair and the next thing I know the little one is up there behind her. I guess Dolly didn't mind - at least, not for ten or fifteen minutes. Then she came down. But that little Annie, she doesn't give up trying to be near the Big Girls.

the gift taking root

God of might, giver of every good gift, put into our hearts the love of your name, so that, by deepening our sense of reverence, you may nurture in us what is good and, by your watchful care, keep safe what you have nurtured.

-   from Magnificat, September 2019

a fall capsule menu

The idea of a capsule wardrobe is buzzing around in recent years. It has its merits and has given me something to think about. But from it I've suddenly got the idea of making a seasonal capsule menu!

It all came about a week or two ago - I made an Italian style macaroni and cheese. It was good! But I could feel myself falling into a habit of too much carb-y stuff at dinner, and I didn't like it. I'd been watching a few of Audrey's youtube videos about her ideas for capsule dressing, and it came to me that I could use this idea for menu-planning.

And so in a notebook I wrote down all kind of foods which seemed fall-appropriate to me. I went through my recipe box and removed all the ones I might like to eat over the next three or so months. I made a pinterest board with recipes I'd accumulated with seasonal interest.

Now I have lots of options! I feel so relieved, just to have these ideas at hand.

Today, for Labor Day we had a friend over; I made Emeril's sloppy joes, cukes cut up, and Anna's brownies, and there was ice cream. Carbs, yes, but it's inevitable at times, and it's a holiday.

Of course I can depart from it, but it's so helpful to be organized, isn't it?

it's September

Where I live, in early September we are hearing something outside - insects of some sort making their constant sounds, a background to whatever we do in the house.  If we're quiet. This lasts all day, and through the night, but it sounds more interesting at night.  I wish I knew what they were; I envy the English, who all seem to know their wildlife and all the things in nature they're neighbors with. Families who homeschool also seem to know this, but for many it's lost knowledge.

In September we can expect the skies to get bluer as the air gets drier, but in the mornings fog will frequently appear. Of course it's cooler and more comfortable to sleep at night, but you can still keep the windows open. It is possible at some point that the furnace will turn on, if you let it. Everyone has their own opinions on the subject; many people I know are determined to tough it out until November.

There is goldenrod blooming, and the asters (Michaelmas daisies, if you like). And ragweed, which might make your head feel stuffy. Later in the month, the leaves start to turn and they could be bright orange, golden yellow or glowing red, and we spend the first part of the month wondering how brilliant the trees are going to be.

The breezes taste

Of apple peel.

The air is full

Of smells to feel -

Ripe fruit, old footballs,

Burning brush,

New books, erasers,

Chalk, and such,

The bee, his hive,

Well-honeyed hum,

And Mother cuts

Chrysanthemums.

Like plates washed clean

With suds, the days

Are polished with

A morning haze.

-   John Updike,   September

owning up

"Be your own accuser, and He will be your pardoner."

                                            -  St. Augustine

a little more order

At one of the thrift stores last week, I found a basket with a handle, just right for a grab-and-go sewing kit.

The contents are a little crowded - maybe I can take out some things.

Planning ahead for the day when the little one discovers the sewing supplies on my desk - and the sharp things that are in there. I'm aiming to make room for this basket in my bookcase, out of her way.

a contrasting hem

I'm finally finishing up a summer dress I started way back when; I'm ready to hem it.

I had pinned this image from Anna's website, Pleasant View Schoolhouse, because it seems I'm often drawn to hems with borders: it's the third photo down, with her daughter wearing a dress that looks like the hem is bound with bias binding. I love this look!

I decided to try it with my blue floral, and use a contrasting color.

The ruby red looks nice with it, I think.

I was trying to figure out the best way to go about it; using double fold is the ideal, but I wanted to use what I had on hand and I liked this color. I stitched it on to right side, intending to fold it under and secure it in back, but that would make a very thin band at the bottom, and I like this particular width.

I'm just going to trim and zigzag the seam allowance underneath there, and then leave it be; it's bias - it shouldn't fray, right? I like that width - we'll see what happens! I'll only have to press out the fold line.

written with a sunbeam

"The sacred rights of mankind are not to be rummaged for among old parchments or musty records. They are written, as with a sunbeam, in the whole volume of human nature, by the hand of the Divinity itself, and can never be erased or obscured by mortal power."

                                                                -  Alexander Hamilton

red and juicy

We're absolutely swimming in tomatoes. Which is a pretty nice thing. But it's not so much that I need to find a way to preserve them; I think we can manage to just eat them.

utter madness

If we were sitting across from one another and talking, if you looked at my bare feet for any length of time, I'd start to worry you might tickle them.

You know how it is in the movies when something's going on just out of sight, and the main character is trying hard not to let on, but it's starting to get obvious? And they're making funny sounds in spite of themselves?

You know how the Three Stooges sounded - I think it was Curly, actually - that high-pitched whiny sound he made when the others gave him a hard time?

Have you seen Emma Thompson's "Sense and Sensibility"? I'm thinking of the scene where Edward has just arrived after the girls' father died and Margaret is hiding under the map table in the library. Edward and Fanny are in the room and Fanny talks of her plan to cut down some trees; Margaret makes some kind of noise from under there, and so Edward realizes where she is.

I was trying to have my supper - minding my own business to be sure - and the little Itty Bitty began hugging my ankles, gumming my feet, hanging on even when I raised my legs. It didn't matter what I did. With my mouth full, "mmmm!  ah! ooh! ha!" Afraid I'd choke on my food, I scooped her up and plopped her on the window sill in another room. But within two minutes she returned - refusing to give up her fixation on my feet. I had to put her in the basement and shut the door.

This is not a complaint. I'm just telling the story.

a tiny fragrance

"[The Blessed Mother]...leads us to see in each other all the little virtues which make us dear to her, if we are sincere in our love of our Lord and of herself. No matter how ragged and unlovely a rosebush may be, it still has some bud upon it that has a lovely tint or a breath of fragrance, for which we like it, because the rose is so beautiful that a single petal is charming. So, if we strive to love heavenly things we become part of the family of the saints, and a tiny fragrance at least tells to whom we belong."

                                             -  Sister Rose Hawthorne,  daughter of Nathaniel Hawthorne, 
                                                                                         from Magnificat, August 2019

curtains down and chickens in the yard

Since I love linen and cotton so much, I am ironing two or three times a week. But I'm in trouble now, since a little cat has come into the house; she just has to attack the electrical cord. So the second and third times I made an attempt, I waited till she was asleep. This meant nothing, of course - she didn't mind at all interrupting her rest when there was a cord to be chewed. I finally put her in the bathroom while I finished.

Of course,I heard a loud noise in there, and found the curtain and rod half down, needing the help of some pliers before I could set it to rights. And the toilet paper, some of it unrolled, of course. But I refuse to switch to polyester on her account! Otherwise, she is entirely precious.

The people behind our next-door neighbors have chickens; I love hearing them and have wanted to get a look at them, but I'd have to go way around, as there's a high fence between their properties.

Right after re-hanging the bathroom curtains, I decided to shake out a little rug near the back door. I hung it over the railing and when I turned to come in, I saw them out near the brook, alongside the bridge. They were looking at me. They had escaped their area somehow!

I hurried to google my neighbors' phone number, but I got a message that their voice mailbox was full. I rushed around our side fence into the next-door yard and up to the big fence, hoping I could see someone in their back yard, but it was hard to see through the chain link. I called out, "Patrick! Desiree!" Only the rooster replied, and I didn't want to get him stirred up.

I've read too many blog posts from chicken owners who've lost them to predators. I called my brother to stop at their house on his way home from work. Well, they were sitting outside; apparently they let them out now and then. But I don't think they realized they came through the brook and over to our property. If there is a next time, I will try not to panic about it.

summer soup and a big cat

I'm a little bit thrilled to have found a new soup recipe that's really delicious (even though I had to turn on the AC to make it). It is in this month's Better Homes and Gardens*, and I used our own yellow squash and tomatoes in it! (I did alter it slightly, adding two extra cups of stock and only half the amount of lemon juice) I have found, however, that my point and shoot camera never takes a good soup photo - the look is always so shiny and unnatural; I couldn't get a good one with the DSLR, either. You will have to believe me, that it was great.

We have tomatoes almost pouring in now, but that is okay. A lunch with a couple of them warm from the sun, cut up and sprinkled with bits of feta is perfect.

They've been digging up our street, redoing the storm drains which are about sixty years old, so that's welcome.

It' is a bit inconvenient getting in and out, especially when someone is coming over and they're not sure how to get to your house when the road is blocked off. But it does give the cats something to look at.

*If you look at the link, you'll see the recipe heading says it's made with cherry tomatoes, but when you read the recipe you'll see it's made with full-sized ones. I wouldn't use small tomatoes for this.

"do you remember an inn, Miranda?"

"Do you remember an Inn, Miranda?"  - Hilaire Belloc, "Tarantella"

Yes, do you remember an Inn,

Miranda,

Where chairs rocked, creaking,

On the long veranda,

Where beds were elderly

To match the plumbing

But the manager smiled at our coming?

Far from the highway where the traffic muttered,

It was clapboarded white,

It was greenly shuttered.

There peace descended

When night began

And we paid by American Plan.

Remember the lobster redder than the wine,

The breakfast dining-room

That closed at nine,

The wavy mirrors

In the first-floor Women's,

The waitresses all from Smith or Simmons

And the crickets loud

But the busboys louder

And the reek of the leek

In the weekly chowder

And the carefree luggage

That porters brought in

And the baths you could launch a yacht in?

Nevermore, Miranda, nevermore.

Only the faceless,

Duplicated door

Of a thousand Motels

From Taos to Truro

With Television built in the built-in bureau.

Only the wallpaper, self-assertive,

And the dusty coming

And the going, furtive,

And the Howard Johnson's

For a meal, en masse,

And the clink of the drink

In the toothbrush glass.

Only the guests, neither gentlemen nor ladies,

But Messieur the Buick

Or Madame, Mercedes

And the fee in advance

And the sleeping pill

For the traffic roaring at the sill.

Let me fly to an Inn like a sword to its scabbard

Where the crickets cry

And the walls are clapboard.

Till I find a rocker

On a long veranda

I'll motor no more, Miranda.

                                     -   Lament for Lost Lodgings, by Phyllis McGinley

planning ahead

How lively a household can be with a little one running around! But I've started a pinterest board for soft Christmas ornament ideas.

may He scatter and brighten

May the God of infinite goodness scatter the darkness of sin and brighten our hearts with holiness. Amen.

                                                          - from Magnificat, August 2019

twice the sound

I didn't always know that I could plug my tablet into the boombox or stereo to get better and louder sound. For under ten bucks, the cost of the six-foot long cord.