This past weekend we had some good neighborhood experiences. On Saturday, the little crowd up in our corner of this country club (Peter, and Teresa/Ted) were out helping our Bracken Brae residents down the road to dig trenches and ditches to divert water from the rains away from their homes. I and John were assigned to provide a lunch for the work crew that day: but they finished early, due to the aforementioned rains which started up unexpectedly early; so we offered a Rain Check lunch for them for Sunday noon instead, after they finished the work.
Meanwhile, I made up a big cauldron of meaty lentil soup and stocked in sandwich rolls and condiments and meats/cheeses – and baked oatmeal-raisin-chocochip-walnut cookies.
On Sunday morning it was raining again, but the brave crew got out and finished their work anyway; and then they showed up at our door. Before they got here, I took a basket with a lunch made up of the soup and sandwich stuff and cookies and drove down to our park Treasurer's house: Lynne is recuperating from hip surgery and was sad to be stuck indoors while others were out working; she's 75 years old, but always digs right along with the rest when she can.
We had a fire going in the living room woodstove, and our Christmas tree lights twinkling, as the cold and wet crew came in; and we all had a jolly couple of hours slurping up the hot soup and other viands and gathering around the fire for cookies and tea. We got to hear a great deal more of neighborhood lore (i.e. gossip) and came to like our new friends even better. We talked about Lynne, and about her friend and neighbor across the street, old Connie: she is the spittin' image of a tough frontier Granny, and was out there digging the ditches with her one good hand (which usually has a cigarette dangling from the fingers) -- her other hand has been injured temporarily, probably in chopping down redwoods or wrangling a bear, or something. But Connie doesn't like to socialize, so she didn't join us, sadly.
Later in the afternoon, we had the house to ourselves, and enjoyed a lovely, quiet evening by the fire, listening to a recording we'd made earlier in the day, of the "Prairie Home Companion" show from NYC this weekend – with guests Met diva Renée Fleming and the great Yo Yo Ma accompanying her on his cello.
On Tuesday morning, after a ripping all-night rain with great peals of thunder rolling down the valley, neighbor Peter came knocking at our door as we were finishing breakfast. "Want to go out and play in the snow?" he inquired. John was up for that, I was not (having a slight throat infection but being extra-cautious). So off the boys went in Peter's four-wheel drive wagon, up a couple of miles on Route 9 and then canting onto a rough road that heads straight up vertically; and they found a couple of inches of depth at the top of the grade. It is not revealed whether they made snowballs and pelted each other, or created snow angels on the white stuff – whatever they did, it must have been a might chilly up there; I was glad to stay home and make chicken soup, myself!
Tuesday, 16 December 2008
Sunday, 14 December 2008
An Advent Meditation: Sunday, December 14
"It's That Time Of Year...."
My favorite season of the entire year has begun; and I thought it time for me to say why, and to describe how John and I like to celebrate this December time.
The dictionary defines the lower-case "advent" as "a coming into being." That's how I think of this time of honoring of Christ's birth: it is a celebration of The Ground of Being coming into being in our full humanity. To love completely, one must understand as completely as possible, I believe; and Jesus is the embodiment of that love of our God that longed to understand creation by full participation in it, in order to so love us. Jesus certainly did walk many a mile in our moccasins, and that last mile, up the hill toward Calvary, must have required more love than I think I could call up.
Anyway, when we lived in southern Germany, I learned to love many of the customs those jolly Bavarians like to keep around this time of year: lots of candles to brighten the home as the days turn darkest; festive, spicy cookies and other baked goods to scent the air and tickle the palate; hot chocolate around the fireside; and special observances in homes, concert halls, and churches on the four weekends preceding the Big Day.
On Christmas Eve morning, we'll keep our tradition of attending virtual Vespers, the beloved "Carols From Kings College, Cambridge", via the magic of the blessed BBC and NPR airwaves, as we sip hot cocoa by the fire in our PJ's – the easiest and loveliest "church service" you could ever imagine!
And from our Catholic childhood roots, we keep the Advent Wreath tradition. So on the Sunday evenings in December, we have our own private little home liturgy. We take turns lighting the next of the four candles around the evergreen wreath and trade off readings from Scripture or from more modern sources (poetry, thoughtful essays, books about the season's religious or social-justice connotations). It's a beautiful way to help us keep the Sabbath holy – a custom that has gone the way of so many good ones in modern times.
Let me add a bit more about that last comment. For much of the year, we are the first among sinners, if not keeping the Sabbath is a sin; but when we do remind ourselves, as we most often do at this Advent time at least, of how important it is – not for God, but for us, who need the R & R (relaxation and renewal) – we are always grateful to observe the day. When we can manage our time so that we don't have to go out shopping, or do heavy work around the house, or do worry-work on the computer – today, for instance – we find the blessed time for what is really most important about life: visiting with friends, reading, doing a little spiritual journaling, even just sitting and gazing into the fire.
AH, well do I remember all the hysteria of planning, shopping, baking, wrapping, card-sending, and visits to Santa that accompanied us throughout the years when all the children were little; and I know that for young parents, it just isn't very possible to set aside a whole day for peace. Or is it? After all, the truly orthodox Jews keep Sabbath holy, no matter what else is on their daily plates. At least, everyone could try to find some patch of time on Sunday – even for a couple of hours before or after dinner – when the whole household could come to a halt with the Christmas preparations, homework, and chores, and just be together in some comfort. It's worth a try, I think.
We try to have something a little more festive in the way of Sunday dinner during December, too: a fine old-fashioned pot roast, maybe – or as tonight, some baked curried chicken with rice, and roasted cauliflower.
Finally, I am so happy to note that some of our progeny have taken to heart and custom our own efforts to be mindful of all those who don't have the blessings and good fortune that have come our own way. Giving donations to agencies that help the poor; taking time to help feed or clothe the needy in the community; working for peace and justice in many ways; these are the truest and most important gifts of the season.
The older I've gotten, the more I've come to realize that what Francis, the poor and humble man from Assisi, said is really true: it is in giving that we receive. As my grandchildren grow up, I know they will learn this from the example of their parents and will come to integrate it into their lives, enriching not only those to whom they give their time, talents and treasure, but immensely enriching their own lives.
I think that all of life is Waiting; Advent just reminds me more vividly that our hearts were made for God, and will be ever restless until we rest in his eternal love and peace.
My favorite season of the entire year has begun; and I thought it time for me to say why, and to describe how John and I like to celebrate this December time.
The dictionary defines the lower-case "advent" as "a coming into being." That's how I think of this time of honoring of Christ's birth: it is a celebration of The Ground of Being coming into being in our full humanity. To love completely, one must understand as completely as possible, I believe; and Jesus is the embodiment of that love of our God that longed to understand creation by full participation in it, in order to so love us. Jesus certainly did walk many a mile in our moccasins, and that last mile, up the hill toward Calvary, must have required more love than I think I could call up.
Anyway, when we lived in southern Germany, I learned to love many of the customs those jolly Bavarians like to keep around this time of year: lots of candles to brighten the home as the days turn darkest; festive, spicy cookies and other baked goods to scent the air and tickle the palate; hot chocolate around the fireside; and special observances in homes, concert halls, and churches on the four weekends preceding the Big Day.
On Christmas Eve morning, we'll keep our tradition of attending virtual Vespers, the beloved "Carols From Kings College, Cambridge", via the magic of the blessed BBC and NPR airwaves, as we sip hot cocoa by the fire in our PJ's – the easiest and loveliest "church service" you could ever imagine!
And from our Catholic childhood roots, we keep the Advent Wreath tradition. So on the Sunday evenings in December, we have our own private little home liturgy. We take turns lighting the next of the four candles around the evergreen wreath and trade off readings from Scripture or from more modern sources (poetry, thoughtful essays, books about the season's religious or social-justice connotations). It's a beautiful way to help us keep the Sabbath holy – a custom that has gone the way of so many good ones in modern times.
Let me add a bit more about that last comment. For much of the year, we are the first among sinners, if not keeping the Sabbath is a sin; but when we do remind ourselves, as we most often do at this Advent time at least, of how important it is – not for God, but for us, who need the R & R (relaxation and renewal) – we are always grateful to observe the day. When we can manage our time so that we don't have to go out shopping, or do heavy work around the house, or do worry-work on the computer – today, for instance – we find the blessed time for what is really most important about life: visiting with friends, reading, doing a little spiritual journaling, even just sitting and gazing into the fire.
AH, well do I remember all the hysteria of planning, shopping, baking, wrapping, card-sending, and visits to Santa that accompanied us throughout the years when all the children were little; and I know that for young parents, it just isn't very possible to set aside a whole day for peace. Or is it? After all, the truly orthodox Jews keep Sabbath holy, no matter what else is on their daily plates. At least, everyone could try to find some patch of time on Sunday – even for a couple of hours before or after dinner – when the whole household could come to a halt with the Christmas preparations, homework, and chores, and just be together in some comfort. It's worth a try, I think.
We try to have something a little more festive in the way of Sunday dinner during December, too: a fine old-fashioned pot roast, maybe – or as tonight, some baked curried chicken with rice, and roasted cauliflower.
Finally, I am so happy to note that some of our progeny have taken to heart and custom our own efforts to be mindful of all those who don't have the blessings and good fortune that have come our own way. Giving donations to agencies that help the poor; taking time to help feed or clothe the needy in the community; working for peace and justice in many ways; these are the truest and most important gifts of the season.
The older I've gotten, the more I've come to realize that what Francis, the poor and humble man from Assisi, said is really true: it is in giving that we receive. As my grandchildren grow up, I know they will learn this from the example of their parents and will come to integrate it into their lives, enriching not only those to whom they give their time, talents and treasure, but immensely enriching their own lives.
I think that all of life is Waiting; Advent just reminds me more vividly that our hearts were made for God, and will be ever restless until we rest in his eternal love and peace.
Thursday, 11 December 2008
Advent 4 - Thursday, December 11
We bought our six-foot Christmas tree, a Noble Fir indeed, on a frosty evening of full-moon glory yesterday. All the citizens of the village seemed to be in town, shopping or – like us – choosing the important Tree; everyone was "Merry Christmas"-ing one another, laughing and chatting: we felt like we'd lived here all our lives! Our trusty (brawny) volunteer firemen were manning the tree lot; they wrestled the chosen one into our car trunk for us. We drove home and stood it in a corner of the front porch; (I hope it's still there, haven't looked yet, unless the deer, bears, or raccoons have carried it off).
So today, we stay mostly at home, decorating and lighting and such. I did my holiday running-around yesterday – no crowds, just a few cheery shoppers – and the only brief traffic snarl was caused by a flagman on our lovely, curvy Route 9, running interference for the lumberjacks and linemen who are always so busy up here, year-round.
I still have to brave the Boulder Creek post office to send off a couple of packages; goodness, there might be a crowd of five people ahead of me there, I guess.
There's rain and rumors of rain, coming this weekend they say. But we will have finished up all our weather-proofing by the end of this week, so let it pour!
So today, we stay mostly at home, decorating and lighting and such. I did my holiday running-around yesterday – no crowds, just a few cheery shoppers – and the only brief traffic snarl was caused by a flagman on our lovely, curvy Route 9, running interference for the lumberjacks and linemen who are always so busy up here, year-round.
I still have to brave the Boulder Creek post office to send off a couple of packages; goodness, there might be a crowd of five people ahead of me there, I guess.
There's rain and rumors of rain, coming this weekend they say. But we will have finished up all our weather-proofing by the end of this week, so let it pour!
Advent 3: Hospitality of the Season
We have several "reservations" already, guests planning to come visit during this festive season ahead. The coming weekend will bring Joe, Kathie, and Josh for a pasta supper on Saturday evening; and before that, during the day we are assigned to provide lunch for the Bracken Brae work crew (they dig trenches for the neighbors who are in danger of rainy weather flooding; we feed the ditch-diggers)..... Next weekend, my young friend Janelle, in grad school at Berkeley, will come for an overnight, overdue first visit. On Christmas Day, Julie and the Drysdale crew will come for dinner and festivities around our tree. During the week following, we hope Caitlin will be coming down from the far and frozen North, on her way through a road-trip to California during her school holiday. We're hoping Robert and Marie will find time to come by also, some time during this season. And right after New Year's Day, we plan a small adults-only Wassail Party to celebrate Three Kings Day/Twelfth Night and to bid farewell to the season.
We have a couple or three little outings planned for ourselves, nothing big; mostly we look forward to lovely warm evenings by the fire, with good music and wine and food – and love in abundance.
As for "Keeping The Feast" – we have our Sunday wreath liturgies, as well as services at St. Andrew's lovely little Kirk o'The Woods in the mornings; I'm working on my Meditation for this blog, to come later; and on Christmas Eve morning, we'll keep our tradition of attending virtual Vespers, the beloved "Carols From Kings College, Cambridge", via the magic of the blessed BBC and NPR airwaves, as we sip hot cocoa by the fire in our PJ's – the easiest and loveliest "church service" you could ever imagine!
I'm hoping that as you read these Advent notes here, you may add your own comments about how your holiday season is shaping up!
We have a couple or three little outings planned for ourselves, nothing big; mostly we look forward to lovely warm evenings by the fire, with good music and wine and food – and love in abundance.
As for "Keeping The Feast" – we have our Sunday wreath liturgies, as well as services at St. Andrew's lovely little Kirk o'The Woods in the mornings; I'm working on my Meditation for this blog, to come later; and on Christmas Eve morning, we'll keep our tradition of attending virtual Vespers, the beloved "Carols From Kings College, Cambridge", via the magic of the blessed BBC and NPR airwaves, as we sip hot cocoa by the fire in our PJ's – the easiest and loveliest "church service" you could ever imagine!
I'm hoping that as you read these Advent notes here, you may add your own comments about how your holiday season is shaping up!
Advent 2: Wednesday, December 10
I am rushing about, a bit, trying to catch up with all the usual things that must be done early in this month in preparation for holiday times. Gifting is first; and I spent most of yesterday on that quest; no, not in some noisy Mall, nor driving madly about in traffic; I was on the computer. Much got done, and there's much more to do yet; but it was a good start.
I'm also trying to work the spiritual aspects of the season into my daily life; and I've begun an essay, an Advent Meditation, to put on my blog eventually.
We've just begun decking the halls here: I must pick some of our very own boughs of holly, from the front patio area! This house must be garlanded well, in tribute to our first Christmas in our new home.
I'm also trying to work the spiritual aspects of the season into my daily life; and I've begun an essay, an Advent Meditation, to put on my blog eventually.
We've just begun decking the halls here: I must pick some of our very own boughs of holly, from the front patio area! This house must be garlanded well, in tribute to our first Christmas in our new home.
Advent 1: Monday, December 8
Yes, if you're a good Roman Catholic, you know that today is the feast of the Immaculate Conception – though I'd be surprised if all you RC's out there know what it means; it used to be the stumper question when I was in Religion classes, back in the day.
Its occurrence every year reminds me of my last day as a Roman citizen (well, not really a citizen, but I did have Permesso di Soggiorno). It was December 7, 1989 – almost 20 years ago, Dios mio! I was wandering and shopping in Il Centro for last-minute Cose Italiane to take home, getting ready to depart for what would be my final return to California the next day. As I strolled down toward my hotel from the Spanish Steps, I passed the Propaganda Fide building and then the statue in honor of Mary Immaculate, on its tall pedestal. She was awaiting the Papal procession and floral tributes to come on the morrow; I nodded politely in her direction, and said a little prayer that I would get out of town before the parade got started; and another little prayer of thanks to God that I was going home, at last.
And now, today, 20 years later, I really am Home, in these dear redwood hills; and another Advent is well begun. I am very content to be staying up here for the the remainder of 2008. The cottage's heart, our parlor-library, is becoming cozier every day, and getting a bit festive. Our Advent wreath is set up on its table in one corner of the room; soon our Christmas Tree will stand in another corner; and we'll be ready to welcome holiday guests.
Last evening, we lit candles and our fire in the little stove; we did our Wreath Liturgy prayer; and then we listened to holiday music while dinner finished cooking. So will our remaining Sunday evenings be kept, until Christmas Eve.
Its occurrence every year reminds me of my last day as a Roman citizen (well, not really a citizen, but I did have Permesso di Soggiorno). It was December 7, 1989 – almost 20 years ago, Dios mio! I was wandering and shopping in Il Centro for last-minute Cose Italiane to take home, getting ready to depart for what would be my final return to California the next day. As I strolled down toward my hotel from the Spanish Steps, I passed the Propaganda Fide building and then the statue in honor of Mary Immaculate, on its tall pedestal. She was awaiting the Papal procession and floral tributes to come on the morrow; I nodded politely in her direction, and said a little prayer that I would get out of town before the parade got started; and another little prayer of thanks to God that I was going home, at last.
And now, today, 20 years later, I really am Home, in these dear redwood hills; and another Advent is well begun. I am very content to be staying up here for the the remainder of 2008. The cottage's heart, our parlor-library, is becoming cozier every day, and getting a bit festive. Our Advent wreath is set up on its table in one corner of the room; soon our Christmas Tree will stand in another corner; and we'll be ready to welcome holiday guests.
Last evening, we lit candles and our fire in the little stove; we did our Wreath Liturgy prayer; and then we listened to holiday music while dinner finished cooking. So will our remaining Sunday evenings be kept, until Christmas Eve.
Wednesday, 3 December 2008
Santa Barbara Glowing
Our southbound trip was a bit odd and fragmented; but this time I really enjoyed Santa Barbara. Well, in its incarnation over the Thanksgiving holiday, who would not? .... the weather was plu-perfect; first a hearty overnight rain on the Tuesday evening we arrived; then a series of sparkling clean-washed and sunny days, right through until Julie and I drove back north on Monday. Our old hometown is at its very best this time of year: and we were graced with the spectacular winter sunsets and sunrises, plus the conjunction just after dark of Jupiter/Venus/New Moon to bejewel the skies even further.
After a rainy, blustery drive down through the Salinas Valley, we arrived safely at Melissa's on Tuesday just after dark, and she had a delicious hot dinner ready for us; we slept deeply.
On the day before Thanksgiving, we woke to a clear, rain-washed sunrise, and hopped out of bed to drink coffee and munch on croissants with butter and strawberry jam (thanks, Poo!). I sat in the big lounge chair looking out at the brilliant red Bougainvillea vine trailing across her neighbor's green hillside, with the mountains beyond, silhouetted against blue sky -- and I remembered why Santa Barbara always looks like a photo on a tourist brochure, or a large-size postcard photo! After breakfast, we headed out and got a lot of SB Chores done: dental appointments, shopping, banking, etc. In the evening, my bro made Spaghetti Carbonara for us for dinner at his place -- our traditional Thanksgiving Eve supper, in tribute to Calvin Trillin (who wishes that the natives of his fictional Caribbean paradise of Santa Prosciutto Island had planned the first Thanksgiving feast).
Thursday morning, before John drove down to Pasadena, we had a Kaffee-Klatsch with our friends Sarah and Steve; and then he departed to "stand in for Marie" who was back in CT with sister Stella for the start of her chemo, and to help oversee the feast "chez Cocks". John's was a male-bonding dinner over a hunk of Roast Beast, with Bob, Mark, and the two nephews (Mikey and Stephen). Meanwhile, I had a quiet day and a traditional turkey with my two sibs -- and went to bed very much too full of food.
Friday morning I met my old friend and mentor, Harriet Burke, for coffee and a small yogurt at Starbucks; and at noon, John drove back up from the south and Julie arrived from Aptos; we snarked turkey sandwiches from Poo's larder, and then John headed on north to Boulder Creek. Julie and I met Nina's plane at SBA and we three were off to the little Hermitage cottage on the grounds of La Casa de Maria, for a religious retreat that couldn't be beat!
It really was a wonderful weekend there; we each had our own little room in the 3-bedroom cottage, and although of course we did a lot of gabbing and giggling and guffawing, we also had lots of quiet times. Nina studied like a scholar (she's preparing for a career shift, from accounting to running a fitness center; and she has to be certified.) I tease her that she's certainly certifiably nuts! Julie slept, and read, and did photography walks. My girls hiked in the mountains on Saturday. And we ate and ate, all that great food that my buddy Theresa cooks up in their fine kitchen. I slept very well, did some writing and reading (in Nina's bible, which she's reading from cover to cover, Old and New Testaments: what an ambitious girl!) We took walks, and rested on the porch, and just had a splendid time. On Sunday morning I borrowed Julie's car and went to church at my beloved Trinity parish; it was delightful to hear that superb choir again and to see and be hugged by a lot of dear friends there.
Nina left on Sunday afternoon, much refreshed. She's got a nice new male friend (HTP, PA, whatever) named Greg; her divorce is final, but she's not making any commitments yet; Greg's an old friend and very supportive pal since a couple of years, works at her golf club. (If Nina marries a Greg, we'll know for sure that she is Leenie's "doppelganger" as we've always thought.)
While we were still together on Sunday afternoon, the three of us drove down a bit south of La Casa, to take a look at the beach house in Mussel Shoals, where the Hornes and the Drysdales will spend Easter Week 2009; it looks like a fine Spring Break for those lucky folks!
Sunday evening, I took my sibs and Julie out for a Thai dinner; and then Ju stayed overnight at her Daddy's house and I slept at Poo's; and us girls drove back up here Monday morning.
I'm very glad to be home in my mountain paradise; but this time the Santa Barbara experience was really wonderful, and I'm glad I went!
After a rainy, blustery drive down through the Salinas Valley, we arrived safely at Melissa's on Tuesday just after dark, and she had a delicious hot dinner ready for us; we slept deeply.
On the day before Thanksgiving, we woke to a clear, rain-washed sunrise, and hopped out of bed to drink coffee and munch on croissants with butter and strawberry jam (thanks, Poo!). I sat in the big lounge chair looking out at the brilliant red Bougainvillea vine trailing across her neighbor's green hillside, with the mountains beyond, silhouetted against blue sky -- and I remembered why Santa Barbara always looks like a photo on a tourist brochure, or a large-size postcard photo! After breakfast, we headed out and got a lot of SB Chores done: dental appointments, shopping, banking, etc. In the evening, my bro made Spaghetti Carbonara for us for dinner at his place -- our traditional Thanksgiving Eve supper, in tribute to Calvin Trillin (who wishes that the natives of his fictional Caribbean paradise of Santa Prosciutto Island had planned the first Thanksgiving feast).
Thursday morning, before John drove down to Pasadena, we had a Kaffee-Klatsch with our friends Sarah and Steve; and then he departed to "stand in for Marie" who was back in CT with sister Stella for the start of her chemo, and to help oversee the feast "chez Cocks". John's was a male-bonding dinner over a hunk of Roast Beast, with Bob, Mark, and the two nephews (Mikey and Stephen). Meanwhile, I had a quiet day and a traditional turkey with my two sibs -- and went to bed very much too full of food.
Friday morning I met my old friend and mentor, Harriet Burke, for coffee and a small yogurt at Starbucks; and at noon, John drove back up from the south and Julie arrived from Aptos; we snarked turkey sandwiches from Poo's larder, and then John headed on north to Boulder Creek. Julie and I met Nina's plane at SBA and we three were off to the little Hermitage cottage on the grounds of La Casa de Maria, for a religious retreat that couldn't be beat!
It really was a wonderful weekend there; we each had our own little room in the 3-bedroom cottage, and although of course we did a lot of gabbing and giggling and guffawing, we also had lots of quiet times. Nina studied like a scholar (she's preparing for a career shift, from accounting to running a fitness center; and she has to be certified.) I tease her that she's certainly certifiably nuts! Julie slept, and read, and did photography walks. My girls hiked in the mountains on Saturday. And we ate and ate, all that great food that my buddy Theresa cooks up in their fine kitchen. I slept very well, did some writing and reading (in Nina's bible, which she's reading from cover to cover, Old and New Testaments: what an ambitious girl!) We took walks, and rested on the porch, and just had a splendid time. On Sunday morning I borrowed Julie's car and went to church at my beloved Trinity parish; it was delightful to hear that superb choir again and to see and be hugged by a lot of dear friends there.
Nina left on Sunday afternoon, much refreshed. She's got a nice new male friend (HTP, PA, whatever) named Greg; her divorce is final, but she's not making any commitments yet; Greg's an old friend and very supportive pal since a couple of years, works at her golf club. (If Nina marries a Greg, we'll know for sure that she is Leenie's "doppelganger" as we've always thought.)
While we were still together on Sunday afternoon, the three of us drove down a bit south of La Casa, to take a look at the beach house in Mussel Shoals, where the Hornes and the Drysdales will spend Easter Week 2009; it looks like a fine Spring Break for those lucky folks!
Sunday evening, I took my sibs and Julie out for a Thai dinner; and then Ju stayed overnight at her Daddy's house and I slept at Poo's; and us girls drove back up here Monday morning.
I'm very glad to be home in my mountain paradise; but this time the Santa Barbara experience was really wonderful, and I'm glad I went!
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