showing off a beautiful tail.
I had no idea.
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
Down along the rocky shore
Some make their home,
They live on crispy pancakes
Of yellow tide-foam;
Some in the reeds
Of the black mountain lake,
With frogs for their watchdogs,
All night awake.
- from "The Fairies" by William Allingham
"The woods and groves around her, that had seemed so friendly... were strangers now. There were no homelights anywhere. Would she ever get home? All Judy's stories, enjoyed and disbelieved at home, became fearfully true here. Those strange little shadows, dark amid the darkness, under the ferns...suppose they were fairies. Judy said if you met a fairy you were never the same again."
- from Pat of Silver Bush, by L.M. Montgomery
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.
"The meaning of the Sabbath is to celebrate time rather than space. Six days a week we live under the tyranny of things of space; on the Sabbath we try to become attuned to holiness in time. It is a day on which we are called upon to share in what is eternal in time, to turn from the results of creation to the mystery of creation; from the world of creation to the creation of the world.
He who wants to enter the holiness of the day must first lay down the profanity of clattering commerce, of being yoked to toil. He must go away from the screech of dissonant days, from the nervousness and fury of acquisitiveness and the betrayal in embezzling his own life. He must say farewell to manual work and learn to understand that the world has already been created and will survive without the help of man. Six days a week we wrestle with the world, wringing profit from the earth; on the Sabbath we especially care for the seed of eternity planted in the soul. The world has our hands, but our soul belongs to Someone Else. Six days a week we seek to dominate the world, on the seventh day we try to dominate the self."
- The Sabbath, by Abraham Joshua Heschel
I finished C.S. Lewis book. Toward the end, there was a section that seemed so dense and I decided that I didn't have to read every word, but then, looking at the last chapter I felt like reading it.
Jason Baxter speaks of nostalgia as a positive thing: "Lewis was nostalgic for the future." he says. "The old model was not wrong, strictly speaking, but a kind of deep, human subconscious desire for a world that, in some sense, we are meant to occupy, but not yet."
He says, "The experience of nostalgia is a feeling of beauty's remoteness, but only because it is so far in the future, rooted 'deep down things'.* It is hope. And the great thing about true hope, this nostalgia for the future, is that it has none of the irritability, fear, anxiety, and discouragement that flavors many of the words of those who describe the demise of Christendom in our day. We were denied the garden, and then we were exiled from the enchanted cosmos. Now we must own our modernity, But by doing so, we engage in an extraordinary ascesis of the senses. We must move forward and look beyond."
- from The Medieval Mind of C.S. Lewis
*God's Grandeur
The world is charged with the grandeur of God.
It will flame out, like shining from shook foil;
It gathers to a greatness, like the ooze of oil
Crushed. Why do men then now not reck his rod?
Generations have trod, have trod, have trod;
And all is smeared with trade; bleared, smeared with toil;
And wears man's smudge and shares man's smell; the soil
Is bare now, nor can foot feel, being shod.
And for all this, nature is never spent;
There lives the dearest freshness deep down things;
And though the last lights off the black West went
Oh, morning, at the brown brink eastward, springs -
Because the Holy Ghost over the bent
World broods with warm breast and with ah! bright wings.
- Gerard Manley Hopkins
I thought Daisy was asleep on my bed, when she suddenly got up and went to the window, obviously seeing something. I looked out - a rabbit. She actually heard a rabbit, eating grass (or whatever). Well, everyone knows rabbits make the earth shake. But really - she heard a rabbit hop in the lawn and eat grass. Amazing.
It rained and stormed yesterday evening, and I saw a rabbit sitting in the rain - they like it, I've noticed, and they like eating the wet grasses. And I like watching them. You knew that.
I'm sorry to say I've made no progress on my dress, as there's been other sewing to attend to. One of them is this pretty blouse.
It has a wide-ish neckline with elastic all around. It's fine when it's on, and it covers my narrow shoulders all right, but it makes me nervous, because if the neckline were to get caught, who knows what would happen? I thought if I made the area stable, it would be better.
I took a double strand of embroidery floss and stitched on the inside all around, into the folds, to inhibit the stretchiness.
You see how I did it, and it was just like basting stitches, but it really reduces any stretching, and the neck is wide enough that I can easily put it on and take it off. So I didn't really sew on the elastic, I just stitched the bunched folds together so they can't open out again.
A friend gave me a Lenten Rose (hellebore) and I want to put it on the north side where I can see it from my window, but the stockade fence there is partly collapsed and we have to decide on if we'll change anything over there first.
From the defining conversation between Tolkien and Lewis:
You look at trees, and call them 'trees', and probably you do not think twice about the word. You call a star a 'star' and think nothing more of it. But you must remember that these words, 'tree', 'star' were names given to these objects by people with very different views than yours. To you, a tree is simply a vegetable organism, a star simply a ball of inanimate matter moving along a mathematical course. But the first men to talk of 'trees' and 'stars' saw things very differently. To them, the world was alive with mythological beings. They saw these stars as living silver, bursting into flame in answer to the eternal music. They saw the sky as a jewelled tent, and the earth as the womb whence all living things have come. To them, the whole creation was myth-woven and elf-patterned.
- The Medieval Mind of C.S. Lewis, by Jason M. Baxter
the emphasis is mine
I was lying in bed, the sun had just come up, the birds were singing. Suddenly, a whirlwind - no, not the Holy Spirit, Pentecost isn't for another two weeks - came rushing down the hall, up onto the bed; it ran up the length of my body and down again, and out the bed onto the floor. I hardly knew what hit me. But, of course I did know.
You guessed it.
"Through faith we must all learn a kind of Copernican revolution. Copernicus discovered that it was not the sun that went around the earth but that this earth along with the other planets revolved around the sun. We all begin by seeing ourselves as a tiny earth around which all the suns must turn. Faith teaches us to leave this error and to behave like brothers and sisters, joining together with all the others in the round dance of love around the one center that is God. Only if God exists, only if he becomes the center of my life, is this love my neighbor as myself possible. But if he exists, if he becomes my center, then it is also possible to reach this inward freedom of love."
- Pope Benedict XVI
*emphases, mine
A festive chirruping announces the day,
singing in the light of dawn.
Christ spurs on the soul,
inviting us to a rebirth, this day.
Arise from your beds, he urges,
where a feeble languor makes you inert.
Be watchful, chaste, good, and sober;
for I am close to you.
Let us invoke Jesus, aloud,
sorrowing, praying, repentant;
an ardent invocation
keeps a pure heart on the alert.
O Christ, drive away sleep,
break the chains of night,
make good the ancient fault,
bring to us new light.
All of a sudden today, it was summer. When I stepped out this morning, I felt a balminess that surprised me. Annie wasn't much interested in her supper. I decided to wash a window.
The cherry in the front yard is a thing of glory, which is the only way to put it. Filled, absolutely filled with blossoms. I can't believe it, and I looked up what I said about it here last spring. It was struggling last year, but not now!
Almighty, ever-living God,
constantly accomplish the Paschal Mystery within us,
that those you were pleased to make new in Holy Baptism
may, under your protective care, bear much fruit
and come to the joys of life eternal.
My boss sent me a photo of a rabbit, seen in some shrubbery at the library. This is a big deal, because rabbits have been living in the bushes around the building, and they've all been ripped up. We were concerned - well, some of us were. But they are a hardy race, and it seems they just moved over a little.
I finished sewing my cleaning cloths, and now I shouldn't run out for any reason, for quite a while. And I've been shopping around online, looking at fabrics I might want to use for a dress lining. Maybe some broadcloth.
"People talk a lot of ballyhoo about suffering improving you. I should say that what it does is to underline what you were before."
- The Scent of Water, by Eliz. Goudge
"The old way of thinking about the world helped heal the 'tragic dilemma' of being human."
- Jason M. Baxter
We are back to seasonal temperatures, but it was so sunny today it really seemed much warmer - not sure if it was, but it did seem.
I began transferring the pattern markings onto my dress pieces, but I soon realized that what I need is good old-fashioned tracing paper, the colored kind that you use with a tracing wheel. I have my wheels, but I had to order some paper. I was relieved they still make it because it's been ages since I bothered with any. It's coming tomorrow.
My brother was mowing and he found a little rabbit, dead, near the crabapple tree. He has no idea if he caused its demise; he's afraid maybe the mower surprised it and scared it to death, if it was perhaps in a depression under the grass? But would they make a nest so near the road? I don't know how smart they are. I remember when they made a nest in the backyard vegetable garden - that was genius! It's quite possible he had nothing to do with it, but he found a small box - it was a young one - and buried it across the brook where so many others are buried.
And that reminds me - it's Dolly's birthday. I was thinking about what made her so unusual.
Monday we went to the shore to visit a relative. I so enjoyed the ride; the trees are beginning to flower, forsythia is still brightly glowing and everyone is growing daffodils, it seems. It was delightful.
I had a quiet few days this weekend catching up on some painting in the bathroom. I also cut out fabric for a dress.
I was searching online for a linen blend to make the Nepheline blouse, but couldn't settle on anything. Meanwhile, I've had this green for years, and decided to make a dress from it. It's been hanging around too long, and I think it'll suit this pattern.
The left version. The other is too short, but I did run into trouble while cutting. I knew I didn't have as much fabric as the envelope said I needed, but I still cut the first piece in the long version. I then came to my senses, knowing I'd run out before I was done, so I opened up the fabric, cut each one separately, and had just enough room for all - what a relief! I don't usually dig out my sleeveless dresses till July, and this fabric isn't exactly summery, being a medium weight and linen/rayon, so I may have to wear it before it gets hot - we'll see. I have to make it first. It was kind of what I was needing for the Nepheline blouse, but I didn't want to make it out of that, and it got me thinking I should use it, so I decided on this dress.With more rain than usual, lawns are being mowed - my brother mowed ours yesterday.
Out my window, I see a neighbor mowed his
and left little piles of grass. Why does it make me think of Monet, and his rolled-up bales of hay?
"By baptism we are grafted onto Christ so as to form with him one single body - his Mystical Body. We are given life by his very Spirit. His divine sentiments enter into us in ever-increasing measure, in proportion as we strip ourselves of our own. That is how we receive the adoption of the sons of God"
- Fr. Juan G. Arintero
"But we cannot think of life as a journey without accepting that it must involve change and growth."
- Esther de Waal, Seeking God: the Way of St. Benedict
A goldfinch at the feeder with forsythia in the background -
The plum tree in bloom with our neighbor's shed showing behind it -
Some wisdom in my reading -
"...if you understand people you're of use to them whether you can do anything tangible or not. Understanding is a creative act in a dimension we do not see."
- Elizabeth Goudge, The Scent of Water
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.
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."
A co-worker yesterday said to me, Did you know there was an earthquake in New York this morning? No, I was pretty busy at the main desk, handing out eclipse glasses. But those who were upstairs at the library felt it.
California often has quakes, and when there's a northern Cal earthquake, I think of Gretchen, but she never mentions it. Is that because she's so used to them? But, it's not a pleasant thing to think about.
The water company emailed to say they would flush out the mains today between eight and four thirty. I got up early to wash the dishes and run laundry through the washer beforehand. I was home all day, and kept checking the water - it never happened. I never saw them up the street at the hydrant, and the water was fine all day (although I avoided using it, I still checked it).
Jackson Galaxy put up a video the other day about the ingredients in canned cat food. Afterward I went and looked through the cupboard. He said carageenan is linked to cancer in cats, two ingredients with phosphate is a bad sign, or a phosphate too high on the ingredient list. Also, starches of course, like potato, pea, corn, etc.. I was surprised to see a few questionable cans in our stash. So, I threw out some of them, but the reality is, like us, cats may like the flavors of these undesirables. I mean, how much junk food have we liked in our lives? So, it's good to be aware, and then to find the balance between something more healthy and something kitty likes to eat.
I hemmed my skirt today,
We had a lot of rain the other day, and a wind advisory yesterday. But today there was snow! I went outside.
There are these young women online here and there who like to dress in Little Women attire, and who share their old-fashioned crafts and recipes. It's very interesting. They seem to want to embrace a home-centered and healthy way of doing things, or maybe they want to escape modernity for a while. But I've seen quite a few.
Anyway, I made a quiche recipe today from one of these sites, and it was very good - more work than the usual quiche I make, since I tend to use already cooked things like leftovers in mine, but it's a holiday and I enjoyed making it. I had most of the ingredients, and substituted another cheese for the one in the recipe. The big thing is, I made a butter pie crust according to her recipe.
I learned to make pie crusts in junior high school, I believe. That would mean I was just pre-teen. My mother never was good at it. Of course, they taught me to make it with Crisco, and that's what I got used to and what I did for years, until it became known it was unhealthy stuff. Then I switched to an oil crust.
Since then, I've not been able to crimp the edges, or do anything to pretty it up because oil crusts are soft - at least, the recipe I use is.
Today I decided to make the butter crust, and it was just as easy as I remembered: I floured the counter and just rolled the thing out! No rolling it between sheets of waxed paper, and then gingerly peeling it off, hoping it won't tear.
"May the children come and have tea with me? I'd like Edith to get accustomed to me and the house. Sunday?"
"Yes," said Joanna. "Thank you very much. I wish there was something we could do for you."
"I want a cottage tabby cat," said Mary. "And I want it rather quickly to prevent Mrs. Hepplewhite persuading me into a white poodle."
From The Scent of Water, by Elizabeth Goudge