wild but warm evening

Tomorrow is November, and it's seventy degrees out - now, at night! We bought loads of candy for the trick-or-treaters and then they said there was wild weather coming.

It was pretty wild - the wind, at least. But it's so balmy and moist out, it was really quite pleasant, and very little rain. So we still had over one hundred come. And they liked seeing the cats in the window.

paraphrasing Keats

Season of mists and yellow fruitfulness.

our mission

"God has created me to do him some definite service; he has committed some work to me which he has not committed to another. I have my mission - I never may know it in this life, but I shall be told it in the next - I have a part in a great work; I am a link in a chain, a bond of connection between persons. He has not created me for naught. I shall do good, I shall do his work, I shall be an angel of peace, a preacher of truth in my own place, while not intending it, if I do but keep his commandments and serve him in my calling.

Therefore I will trust him. Whatever, wherever I am, I can never be thrown away. If I am in sickness, my sickness may serve him; in perplexity, my perplexity may serve him; if I am in sorrow, my sorrow may serve him. My sickness, or perplexity, or sorrow may be necessary causes of some great end, which is quite beyond us. He does nothing in vain; he may prolong my life, he may shorten it; he knows what he is about. He may take away my friends, he may throw me among strangers, he may make me feel desolate, make my spirits sink, hide the future from me - still he knows what he is about."

                                                       -   Blessed John Henry Newman, from Magnificat, October 2019

what happened to the light brown sugar?

I realized I was out of light brown sugar, so I bought some. That's it on the left; on the right is some dark. Do you see it? They are the same color. What's going on?

The next time I'm at the supermarket I'm going to examine every brand of brown sugar they have.

orange

A most underrated color.

holes

When did I first mention they were digging up our road, and re-doing the pipes? June or July, I think.

two or three weeks ago - our front yard!

these dirt piles come and go

Yes, there is a toilet in our front yard. 

last week: The Grand Canyon

They dig these holes every day, then have to fill them up before they leave.

this was Tuesday

This crevasse at the end of our driveway is filled up, and they've moved up a house or two, inching their way along the street. They are entirely replacing the sewer pipes and hope to be done and paved before the snow flies. What a monumental job!

When they were underground in front of our house they saw our pipes; they told my brother they looked to be in good condition. Good to know!

the lazy way to ripen tomatoes

Not that I'm an expert on tomatoes, but I think it must be an old wives' tale that in order to ripen a green tomato, you need to wrap it up in newspaper and keep it in the dark. Not so!

When did I pick these? Two or three weeks ago, and every now and then I look inside the bag to see if any are getting the slightest bit pink. Then I put them on the windowsill where they finish turning red.

healing the wound of individuality

"One of the things we feel after reading a great work is 'I have got out'. In the moral sphere, every act of justice or charity involves putting ourselves in the other person's place and thus transcending our own competitive particularity. In love, in virtue, in the pursuit of knowledge, and in the reception of the arts, we are doing this. Those of us who have been true readers all our life seldom fully realize the enormous extension of our being which we owe to authors. Literary experience heals the wound, without undermining the privilege, of individuality." *

                                       -  C. S. Lewis, An Experiment in Criticism


*all quotes are from the same section of the book, but I rearranged them

bright October

Where I live, the month with the most sunny days is October. I wasn't sure this October was living up to it's reputation, but today was such a day.

We had a violent wind and rain storm Wednesday night which caused many colored leaves to come down before their time, along with quite a few branches; so I went outside to get some sunshine and fresh air. 

I started out wearing crocs because I expected the ground to be wet, but it wasn't. And, as I worked to pick up the sticks, I got warmed up enough to shed my sweater and shoes. There were no clouds. That's what October usually is around here - bright colors, sunshine and days made for being outside. 

The blue and gold perfection of October makes up for whatever was less than ideal about summer. If only it would last a little longer.

she

My brother came home tonight to find his lower curtain down, rod and all.  I wonder how bad this is going to get. Before it gets better, I mean.

A small person can certainly cause a lot of trouble.

depending

"Prayer follows an awareness of dependence: a little child relies on his parents for everything, and a child of God feels like this about his heavenly Father. So his prayer is a need, a life, a way in which the spirit expresses its sense of poverty and trust. The way to learn to be a contemplative is to learn how to ask. Through such an expression of dependence we come to recognize God's mercy, his goodness, his beauty, whatever attribute we are most drawn to, for he fulfills all our longings. Then petition is transcended, for God himself will open our eyes."

                                     -     Fr. Bonaventure Perquin,  from Magnificat, October 2019

a visit with Vincent

My co-worker and I took a trip to a museum to see a Van Gogh display, and to hear an author speak on his biography of Vincent.

Horton can be found guarding the place

It was very well attended; he was to talk an hour. The president of the museum spoke first - she gushed too much and went on too long; it cut into his speaking time. Then, she introduced a woman who introduced the author - it was all a bit much. 

They insisted that he save ten minutes at the end for questions, which means he ended up speaking only forty five minutes. We both would have stayed another hour or two gladly, had he been allowed to keep talking. That was too bad.

can't be original, 'cause it wouldn't be in English, would it?

About the book: it isn't new. It was published in 2011, and they were even on 60 Minutes back then - I saw the episode. The biggest excitement about this book is their theory that Vincent didn't shoot himself, as is generally believed. At least, they feel that the evidence doesn't support it. It was some kind of accident but he didn't "tell" on anyone. A few years ago I inter-library loaned the book. When it came, all nine hundred pages of it, it was just too much to get involved in, so I sent it back. 

his brother

Afterward we went upstairs to see the exhibit. It was well done, extremely imaginative; it will be great for kids with lots of crazy inter-active things. 

try your hand at drawing a sunflower

Why didn't I take more photos? I should have. Here I am, sitting at the Cafe Terrace at Night.

Isn't that cool? But this is even better - 

my friend actually sitting in the bedroom at Arles - she could have lain on that bed, if she'd liked. They did a great job with it, didn't they?

part of the studio

Anyway, this man was so so interesting that we decided we should make the effort to read the book, so I ended up buying it. It may take me a year to read, and that will be fine if so. 

When we passed through the museum to leave, we ran into him, so I grabbed his hand and told him we would have gladly stayed to hear more and were sorry his talk was too short. I said this not for his benefit, but for the museum person who was with him. Maybe I should email them, too. 

Afterward, we had a tasty lunch and when we got back to town, stopped at a local and very popular bakery in the hope that we could get a piece of a fancy cake they'd advertised for that day - and wouldn't you know, there was one fat slice left! We finished it off, and both agreed it had been a very good day.

do you?

warming up the house

I was resisting turning up the thermostat last night, but this morning I was too chilled in the house, so up it went, one degree. That helped, and then I cut up a butternut squash and put it in the oven for two hours. That always does the trick. And then I turned it back down when it reached sixty outside.

I also did my ironing, and the beef stew for dinner was on the stove a good two and a half hours. A lot different from yesterday when we were both at work; nobody at home makes for a cold house. 

The swamp maple in the back is getting that fluorescent look now. It wasn't being captured by my camera though, so I had to jump it up with the software.

Speaking of beef stew, I usually just wing it and it's fine, but I wanted to try a particular recipe. It was delicious! I had a bottle of beer in there, and Worcestershire sauce. I don't think to use that, but I will from now on. There was a dumpling recipe to go with it, but the pot I am currently using is high and not so wide - not so suitable for a batch of dumplings. So I put them in muffin tins, not being sure how they'd come out without the moisture and steam they usually cook over. But they came very well. I will keep this recipe!

just hide the matches

The little orphan is slowly trashing our house. Pardon me if I'm repeating myself - I don't remember who I've said this to.

On Sunday she climbed up the plastic shower curtain liner, consequently poking a few holes in it. This reminds me of the fairy tale about the princess who sat atop a glass mountain, waiting for a knight who could ride up it and take her away. How do you climb up a plastic curtain? The holes are as high as halfway up.

My brother said when he came home for lunch yesterday, the bathroom towels had been pulled down into a heap in the tub - yes, she is slightly obsessed with the bathroom these days.

This morning, she kept going behind the umbrella stand in the living room which holds the flags, thereby pushing it out into the room, in the way of course. The ensuing conversation went like this:

me: She is trashing the place. But, I suppose as long as she doesn't burn the house down....

my brother: Hide the matches.

Did I say that she's precious, and as cute as a button?

just one thing at a time

"To live today well we also should remember that God only asks for one thing at a time, never two. It doesn't matter whether the job we have in hand is sweeping the kitchen floor or giving a speech to forty thousand people. We must put our hearts into it, simply and calmly, and not try to solve more than one problem at a time. Even when what we're doing is genuinely trifling, it's a mistake to rush through it as though we felt we were wasting our time. If something, no matter how ordinary, needs to be done and is part of our lives, it's worth doing for its own sake, and worth putting our hearts into."

                                                                 - Fr. Jacques Philippe, from Magnificat, October 2019

the rose remembers

Autumn Chant

Now the autumn shudders

In the rose's root,

Far and wide the ladders

Lean among the fruit.

Now the autumn clambers

Up the trellised frame

And the rose remembers

The dust from which it came.

Brighter than the blossom

On the rose's bough

Sits the wizened, orange,

Bitter berry, now;

Beauty never slumbers;

All is in her name;

But the rose remembers

The dust from which it came.

                  -   Edna St. Vincent Millay

a good tomato year

As long as my brother has been doing the vegetable gardens, he apparently never knew about the "determinate" and "indeterminate" factors in growing tomatoes.

I think he learned from a friend's father in the neighborhood about gardening, and then it was just a matter of learning by doing - he didn't consult books, in other words.

But this spring, somehow, he heard about the two types of tomato plants, and he planted tomatoes that were indeterminate. And that is why we've enjoyed so. many. delicious. tomatoes this year. 

ripe ones I picked on Thursday

The weatherman said it would get down into the thirties last night, so yesterday as soon as I got home from work, I picked every thing worth picking.

Some partially ripe.

And lots of unripe tomatoes, the same shade of green as the small peppers there. We'll see if they all ripen. It was a good tomato year - the best!

a bitter disappointment, or, all dressed up and nowhere to go

My co-worker showed me the newspaper clipping yesterday - George Washington was going to make an appearance at an historic house and it wasn't too far for us to get there! Too exciting. There was to be a wine tasting first and then the talk. We appeared, in the rain, after the wine but in time to see the man himself, only to find a full house and no way to squeeze inside the building. No way to see anything, even if we'd wanted to stand in the rain. We had to turn around and come home.

But we are hoping we can get him to come to the library. Who knows? After all, Queen Victoria came.

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.