a little more respect for St. Martha

 Saturday was the feast of saints Martha, Mary and Lazarus. Martha's behavior in the bible story always gets the critical eye, doesn't it? Jesus told her that her concern for earthly things was inferior to a concern for spiritual ones. And we always think of her slightingly when her name is mentioned. As if we are any different. 

Anyway, Magnificat had a hymn for that day which shows her in a different light, which seemed rather nice for a change. 

Saint Martha, we recall the joy
Of which your energy gave proof,
When opportunity was yours
To welcome Christ beneath your roof.

Alert and eager with much care,
Your ardent soul could find no rest,
In many things solicitous
To please so greatly loved a Guest.

While you prepare a festal board
At which he will have honored place,
Your brother and your sister draw
From him the food of life and grace.

O blessed hostess of your Lord,
Make our hearts ready like your own,
To welcome him to their abode
To find in them true friendship's throne.

-  Anselme Lentini *

translated by the nuns of St. Cecilia Abbey, Isle of Wight

From Magnificat, July 2023 -

You have called some to the service of work and some to the service of prayer:
                             - grant us mutual respect and support as we seek to further your kingdom.

You have called some to serve in public ways and some to serve in the privacy of the home:
                             - keep us all faithful to the tasks you have given us.

You have called some to serve in active ways and some to serve by suffering:
                             - sustain us all in faith, hope and love.

                                                   in Jesus' name. Amen.

soggy plants, so much rain, and insects

 The cover on my new copy of Gentian Hill. It's certainly better than the other copy. But it doesn't illustrate (no pun intended) what the story's about, in my view. If I were an artist I'd paint a view of the town, the bay, the ships. The beautiful English scenery, which seems to be a character in her books, much of the time. 

We had a most beautiful weekend, with less humidity and lovely sunshine; we'd been waiting for it all summer. Now the humid air is back, and so the air conditioning. We had a thunderstorm today, too. More rain. The garden is a washout and I think I should get the wood for some raised beds. A long story, to be told later. Rosemary isn't looking too good.

My brother's kitchen garden is better, since the soil isn't as heavy, but the tomato plants aren't getting as tall as they should and the tomatoes are resting on the ground. We have to pick them before they're ripe or they'll rot. This is most unusual. 

My dress is barely coming along, but today I finished the understitching. I think I may have to topstitch around the neck edge to make it lay flat. I really don't like doing it. Do people who can whip up a dress in a day or two just ignore the housework? Or maybe they have a cook, or a housekeeper. 

A couple of nights ago I saw a few fireflies, so they're still around, but dwindling. 

There's always a chance, when you read a science book about a subject, that the romance of it will wane for you - the magic is "explained". This book is very interesting, and the author loves her subject. So, I'll try not to let it spoil my enchantment with fireflies. I know she means well. Books written by naturalists, on the other hand, seem to find a nice balance between the two: science fact and poetry.

"Summer belongs to the insects, and in the drowsy heat of July and August, when I walk southward over the brown road from Morgan Creek to Lone Field, I am never out of hearing of the buzzing of meadow grasshoppers, the whirring wasps. the droning of bees at the old field flowers. Birds sing early. The awakening whistle of quail comes at dawn from the hedges, and in the cool, green woods, the redstarts, summer tanagers, and red-eyed vireos sing long before the heat waves shimmer over the road and the sun has burned away the morning mists. But it is the insects that proclaim high summer, and at noon of days when the temperature rises to more than 100 degrees they are fiercely active."

                                             -  John K. Terres, From Laurel Hill to Siler's Bog

before the time of ripeness

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

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

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

                                            -  Erasmo Leivo-Merikakis

embracing the cosmos

 
"The reign of God, sown like an insignificant seed at the burial of Jesus condemned as a criminal, has grown into a tree whose branches embrace the cosmos and all that is in it through the Resurrection. His name, known first to only a handful of followers, is now praised by people of every race and nation."

                                                            - from Magnificat, July 2023

garden tribulation

Well, I finished reading Kidnapped - I never expected such an abrupt ending! It seemed so strange, that I googled it to see if there is any conversation on the subject. And, as it turns out, there is a sequel! I guess I'll have to read that one, too. 

We've had excessive humidity nonstop for what seems like a month; maybe it's three weeks. Usually, the temperature goes up, the air is dry the first day, and if the heat continues, humidity will creep in. After a few days, we get a break. That is more or less how our summers go, and of course things change up year to year. And the brook will often dry up by August. But there is no drought here now - more like rain every day for a spell, and yesterday while we were at Mass, it poured so hard that people coming in had big wet spots on their clothing and water was running like a stream along the side of our property. I just dug up a sad rosemary plant from the back garden which hasn't grown at all since I planted it - at least two months ago. I know these mediterranean herbs don't like a heavy soil, which is what we have; this evening when I went outside to rescue it, there was standing water in the garden. More about that another time.

The side, kitchen garden has better soil and we've got some beans coming in now - they are favas - I've never liked them very well. (I'm a poor sort of Italian: don't like favs, mozzarella, or even cannoli.) But anyway, I'll eat them - it's a vegetable, it's food. 

Meanwhile, you-know-who was dropping some onto the floor, from one of her reconnaissance trips along the counter. The sooner I get them cooked, the better.

"Preserve the warmth of the family, because the warmth of the whole world cannot make up for it."

- St. Sharbel Makhluf

plugging along

I am still reading the naturalist's journal of his time in North Carolina, still going through the Adams/Jefferson letters. In between, I am re-reading Elizabeth Goudge's Gentian Hill, which is in terrible shape and coming apart.

The cover, anyway, gives no idea of what's within the pages. I ordered a new one.

With the Literary Life podcast, we've got Kidnapped, which is quite an exciting adventure. Our library copy has illustrations by N.C. Wyeth. Where are the authors like Stevenson today?

Meanwhile, my dress is coming along slowly, and now I have to understitch the bodice facing, which I like to do by hand. 

This was in Magnificat a few days ago -

Forth in the peace of Christ we go;
Christ to the world with joy we bring;
Christ in our minds, Christ on our lips,
Christ in our hearts, the world's true King.

It sounds cheerful, and encouraging. I like it! 

for the precious things of the earth

 Blessed of the Lord be His land,
for the precious things of heaven,
for the dew,
and for the deep that coucheth beneath.

And for the precious fruits brought forth by the sun,
and for the precious things put forth by the moon,

And for the chief things of the ancient mountains,
and for the precious things of the lasting hills,

And for the precious things of the earth and fulness thereof,
and for the good will of Him that dwelt in the bush....

Thy shoes shall be iron and brass; and as thy days so shall thy strength be....

The eternal God is thy refuge, and underneath are the everlasting arms.

- Gentian Hill, by Elizabeth Goudge, from Deuteronomy 33

always learning

 Imagine that you're brushing your teeth at the bathroom sink, your head just turns to the left. You meet the eyes of .....

stock photo - cameras and toothpaste don't mix

the apprentice. 

I should probably go back to shutting the door.

I'd never seen it before

 A man came into the library carrying a box of books; said he'd called on Monday, but I wasn't there on Monday; I didn't know about it. He had the Oxford English Dictionary, the whole thing. The Whole Thing.

They were moving. He had a helper, and they brought in four boxes of it; he seemed wistful over the business. He said they're moving to a smaller place. I said well, you can buy the version with the magnifying glass, right? He said It's not the same. A likeable fellow, he was looking at it fondly, said it didn't get used much, but the kids did look up things in it now and again. 

He even told me what they're selling it for on Amazon: fifteen hundred dollars. But on ebay, nine hundred. He wondered if anyone would really buy it for that. (I don't know what he paid for his new one) Finally, he sighed, touched one of the boxes a last time, and left. A pleasant fellow.

Afterward, I called the director in her office. She didn't know about it, but no, we weren't going to keep it. The Friends of the Library will try to sell it somehow. But no sooner had I hung up the phone, than she trotted down the hall to have a look. We were touching it. The OED, for heaven's sake! In pristine condition. Then I said, I suppose I should take a picture!

And so I did.

July 4th

 "While you live, I seem to have a bank at Monticello on which I can draw for a letter of friendship and entertainment when I please.

I know not how to prove physically that we shall meet and know each other in a future state, nor does revelation, as I can find give us any positive assurance of such a felicity. My reasons for believing it, as I do, most undoubtingly are all moral and divine."

                                                           - John Adams, in a letter to Thomas Jefferson, Dec. 8, 1818

they both died on this date, in 1826

crab cakes for dinner

 I strained my back a week ago, and didn't feel like going to the supermarket the other day, so I got a delivery. While perusing the specials, I was excited to see tins of crabmeat for half price! It's generally around thirty dollars a pound, so I ordered it. 

Crab cakes! I found a recipe, cut up some cuke and tomato and made some quick bean soup. They kind of fell apart, but were so nice and filling.

Sunday ups and downs

 Today during Mass one of the hymns was a surprise. Several years ago a local radio station played the top forty Christian songs every week, until we stopped listening - I never liked any of them, not liking popular Christian music. Except one, and every time it came on the radio would get turned up. And it's found its way into our hymnal.

And then we sang America the Beautiful at the end. But when, in the second verse it says, Confirm thy soul in self-control, I got too choked up - this seems like a lost concept now.

night creatures

I just went out across the brook to watch the fireflies. Sunset was half an hour ago, and it's not very dark yet, but getting to be. I stood at the end of the bridge and they began to appear, one or two on the right, and then a few way over into the clearing, flashing and sparkling as they do. Then, a possum (opossum, really) came along from the right hand side. He didn't see me, just traveled along the edge of our property, sniffing at an evergreen shrub. I cleared my throat but he didn't stop. But when I moved, and my keys jingled (I brought them in case I got locked out), he stopped. I stayed still and said something encouraging; he continued over to the brook. They used to put me in mind of a big rat, but I find them rather endearing now. I was glad to see him. 

According to Silent Sparks, by Sara Lewis, adult fireflies live only a few weeks! How many strange things there are in this world. I'm grateful for the yearly show.

home

 "Home! It showed you its face when you sat quiet within it at that moment when daylight was passing to night, but it could only reveal its spirit, its eternal meaning, when you stood at a little distance, just turning to leave it or just returning to it, seeing it at that transition moment when a larger world was claiming or releasing you. It was always at these transition times, it seemed, when for a moment, nothing owned you and you owned nothing, that you saw things so very clearly."

                                                            -  Elizabeth Goudge, Gentian Hill

" a city of peace"

 "Be careful to never let your heart be disturbed or get involved in things that upset it, but always work to keep it calm. In this way the Lord will build in your soul a city of peace, and your heart will be a place of delights. Every time you get upset, Jesus simply wants you to come back to silence and calm yourself again in all your works and thoughts."

                                               - Blessed Clelia Merloni

it's summer

 Well, the humidity is way up, and it feels like summer, all of a sudden. Because yesterday it was down in the sixties. 

I have a new thermometer outside my window, with a humidity needle. I'm not sure the percentage of humidity interests me, just the feeling of it. My energy levels decline as it goes up. But yesterday it felt drier and I made good progress on my linen dress. I like the way it's looking, except that I didn't line up the back center seams: for the top and the bottom, since the dress has a horizontal seam in the back.

I ripped out part of it, hoping I could shift things and correct it, but it didn't work. Blast! I don't want to re-do the seam; I'll leave it and learn from it, hopefully, but I won't cry over it. Speaking of crying, though, I could sometimes cry over things like this:

Cats who play on bedsheets. 

I am also trying really hard to move along with my summer quilting project, and have been picking it up while listening to podcasts or whatever. I've got a few colors of embroidery floss: pale yellow, deep gold, taupe, off-white. Whatever suits my fancy, and I sometimes put them close, other times further apart.

And, when the time comes to bind it, I think the blue linen of the dress will go very nicely, and there is plenty of it.

I finished the Isabella Stewart Gardner book.

For supper, we had a tuna sandwich recipe I haven't made for a few years, but it seemed special for Mid-Summer's Eve. Right now I hear baby birds chucking outside and robins laughing. It's good.

"I have a naturalist's love for the road that winds from Muskrat Pond to the borders of Big Oak Woods. In June, the poet's month, I follow it for two miles southward, past fields white with elderberry and Queen Anne's lace and trumpet creeper in scarlet flower. Cardinals and mockingbirds sing from the roadside thickets and bluebirds warble softly from the sky. In the early morning, when the dew sparkles on the grass, I hear the wild, sweet singing of the field sparrows and the first daylight calls of the quail."

                                    -  John K. Terres, From Laurel Hill to Siler's Bog

little neighbors

 There is almost no time when a rabbit will not be seen in our yard.

There's a lot of clover in the grass. 

We're glad they like it.

strawberry season

 Juicy strawberries from the farmers' market, courtesy of a very nice friend.

he's using the drill

and it's loud.

but her curiosity is too great to keep her away.

little tribulations

Yesterday. In line at the supermarket, and, going through. the cap to the liquid laundry detergent popped off and detergent ran out. It went all over the checkout area, where the bagging takes place. My brother was bagging and he helped the cashier wipe it all up, but liquid soap? Not so easy to clean up. (Thank God, no fragrance!) I ran and got another, but what a strange thing!  

At home, I was unpacking the groceries and I realized the long shrink-wrapped cukes felt soapy. And so did one of the bags. I had to rinse everything in the utility sink in the basement. With Daisy's help. She arrived in time to watch the water go out of the sink.

Meanwhile, my brother has ripped out many of the tiles in the tub area, and it has to dry out thoroughly before he can put them back, so it's sponge baths for a while. I helped him out by scrubbing the tiles clean; this took a while, and I ended up stabbing a screwdriver into my palm. Not as bad as it sounds! It wasn't sharp, so didn't hurt so much. I just have to keep it clean (which is a bit hard with hands).

in just two hundred years

 "Small communities grow great through harmony, great ones fall to pieces through discord."

                              -      Sallust, quoted in a letter from John Adams to Thomas Jefferson, 1812

the in-between of things

 We've got two bunnies in the yard. One little, one big. What is the fascination with these creatures? I look for them every day. They are quiet, they seem content with their grazing. (of course, wild animals have to spend most of their time eating, or looking for food)

The solid blue fabric in the photo is a medium weight linen I was cutting out today; I'm thinking of a dress. 

Basically, the sleeveless one on the left. I'm not using a contrast fabric for the side panels, and I hope it'll be a little longer than the picture. I'll make a narrower hem. But I have the fabric, I have the pattern, and I've been seeing this style here and there. 

this one's a knit, but that's neither here nor there. I forget where I saw the other, but the v-neck, sleeveless, a-line style is out there. So, I'll give it a go. And I am trying to finish quilting the summer throw I started last year. Trying to use my creativity.

the first one

 I saw a firefly last night -  only one. So far. Just for the record.

nothing more important

 After Mass this morning, it being the feast of Corpus Christi, the congregation processed outside to four altars in different places on the property, singing hymn and hearing Fr. read from the Bible and prayers. I don't know which other Catholic church in the area does this, but I don't think they do it outdoors. Our church is on a busy intersection, which makes it a very interesting thing for motorists, I don't doubt. Father T. was reading something when a motorcycle went roaring by - he just stopped, and waited for the sounds to die down. 

I haven't picked up Eamon Duffy's The Stripping of the Altars for a while, but I remember a mention of this day in the book. In the Middle Ages it was a spectacularly celebrated holiday, from 1318 onward, until, "in 1535 the Crown abolished most of the local and national festa ferianda occurring in ...the busy summer months, on the grounds that the excessive numbers of holidays were impoverishing the people by hindering agriculture." This apparently caused widespread resentment and "subsequent anti-reform feeling." (Sounds familiar.)

"In his discourse at the synagogue at Capernaum, Jesus says, I am the living bread that came down from heaven; whoever eats this bread will live forever; and the bread that I will give is my flesh for the life of the world. ...In many places in the Old Testament, the eating of an animal's flesh with blood in it is strictly forbidden. How much more, therefore, would the eating of the flesh of a man be appalling to them.

Given every opportunity to soften his speech, to explain that he is speaking only metaphorically, as he was when he told Nicodemus that one must be born again, Jesus instead intensifies his rhetoric, insisting on the literalness of his meaning. Amen, amen, I say to you, unless you eat the flesh of the Son of Man and drink his blood, you do not have life within you. For my flesh is true food, and my blood is true drink. It is telling that the Greek term used for "eat" here is not the customary phagein, which describes the manner in which human beings eat, but rather trogein, which carried the sense of "gnaw" or "chew" in the manner of an animal. Once his listeners took in his meaning, the Gospel writer tells us, many returned to their former way of life and no longer accompanied him.

The doctrine... has always been a standing or falling point for followers of Jesus. If the Eucharist is but a symbol of Jesus, who cares? But if it is the flesh and blood of the Master, nothing could possibly be more important."

                                                      -  Bishop Robert Barron

1,000 paper cranes

 The elementary school kids made a thousand paper cranes, and they're hanging at the library for a while.

what the world does not seem to understand

 I was just reading a blogpost from the monks about a new member taking some vows. Here is what the abbot said.

And then I went to Gretchen's blog, and this is what she posted.

and Daisy has nothing to do with any of it

salvaging a quilt

 Years ago, I bought a quilt for my brother's room, with a nice plaid patchwork design in navy and dark red with bits of green and whitish - very nice. He didn't like the weight of it. It was cotton, with a cotton batting. And, while cotton batting is preferred for its naturalness, polyester batting is way lighter. So, it doesn't get used much, but the cats have been laying on it so I thought it should be washed.

A while back I had a nice knitted cotton throw from Garnet Hill, which was pretty over the rocker in summer, because it was white with a coral red. But when we got our new washing machine, as much as I like it, it couldn't handle a heavy, wet piece of cotton. It just stopped during the spin cycle.  And that's what happened today with this plaid quilt. There it lay in the washer, sopping wet. I tried to wring it out, but it was difficult. I'd had to get rid of the pretty throw, but I wanted to salvage this quilt. I got my sewing scissors and cut it in half, and half again. I've been drying the pieces one at a time in the dryer. 

I will have to bind the raw edges, but each one is throw-size. I'm sure they can be used somewhere, even if only for the cats to sleep on. 

the raptures of Psalm 148

 "The hyperbolic flights of the Psalmist may often be followed with approbation, even with rapture; and I have no hesitation in giving him the palm over all the Hymnists of every language, and of every time. Turn to the 148th psalm, in Brady and Tate's version Have such conceptions been ever before expressed?"

                                                       -  Thomas Jefferson in a letter to John Adams, Oct. 12, 1813

Praise the Lord from the heavens, praise him in the heights.
Praise him, all his Angels, praise him, all his hosts.
Praise him, O sun and moon, praise him, all shining stars.
Praise him, O heavens of heavens, and the waters which are above the heavens:
let them praise the name of the Lord, for he commanded and they were created.
And he established them forever and forever: he gave a law, which shall not pass away.

Praise the Lord from the earth, ye sea-monsters and all the depths of the sea.
Let fire and hail, snow and mist, let the storm-wind, which fulfills his word,
let mountains and all hills, let fruit trees and all cedars,
let wild beasts and all cattle, let reptiles and feathered birds,
let kings of the earth and all nations, let princes and all judges of the earth,
let young men and virgins too, let old men together with children:
let them praise the name of the Lord, because his name alone is exalted;
his majesty transcends the earth and heaven, he has given a high horn to his people.
Praise for all his faithful, for the children of Israel, for a people that is under him.
Amen.

(not the Brady-Tate version)

Pentecost, an actual event of salvation

 
"If we want to prevent Pentecost from being reduced to a mere rite or even an evocative commemoration, but want it to be an actual event of salvation, we must prepare ourselves in devout expectation for the gift of God through humble and silent listening to his Word...."

                                                       -   Pope Benedict XVI

ups and downs

 I was thinking that the day has gone by and I hadn't accomplished so much. But sometimes you get an inspiration to do a thing here, and another there, and it doesn't take long but you've done something that's been hanging over your head for ages. And it was quick, and rather easy. 

I finished reading God's Hotel, and was poking through my book pile. I found something which we'd withdrawn from the library, called From Laurel Hill to Siler's Bog: The Walking Adventures of a Naturalist. It's not exactly a journal, but a chronicle of the author's time in the Chapel Hill (North Carolina) area, studying the animal and plant life. As naturalists do. 

Books like this are very pleasant and quiet to spend time with.  He mentions a spot called Morgan's Creek, named after a Mark Morgan who settled there with his wife, but "until he could build a cabin from the surrounding forest, he and his wife lived by his creek in the hollow trunk of a tall sycamore, ten or twelve feet across." Well! Can you imagine? I wonder how long they lived like that. I hope their marriage was a happy one.

A month after starting my blouse, and there's an issue, so I'm stopped for a while. I would just like to work on a sewing project which goes along from beginning to end, without any out-of-the-way problems. But I also don't want unfinished projects to pile up. A mending pile seems normal, but other piles I don't want.

I brought home a cookbook the other day, which is all one "pot" recipes, but not all in pots, exactly. A chapter on skillet meals, one on the slow cooker, another is oven dishes, etc. This one is a keeper, for the oven, on a high temperature. It's got chicken in it, three carrots, some frozen peas and a yogurt and lime sauce which you stir in afterward. Very tasty!

prayer to the Holy Spirit

 Holy Spirit, Truth divine,
Dawn upon this soul of mine;
Word of God and inward light,
Wake my spirit, clear my sight.

Holy Spirit, Power divine,
Fill and nerve this will of mine;
By thee may I strongly live,
Bravely bear, and nobly strive.

Holy Spirit, Right divine,
King within my conscience reign;
Be my law, and I shall be
Firmly bound, for ever free.

-  Samuel Longfellow