From Your Resident Theologian

I led three retreats in April, including one for the CHS Associates in Portland, Oregon. I loved Mount Angel, the Benedictine monastery, seminary, and retreat house where the annual retreats take place. At the end of the retreat, the Associates talked about opening the retreat as a ministry to the diocese — noting that a silent retreat is a rare and wonderful gift. I admired the energy, thoughtfulness and generosity expressed in their enthusiasm for this mission.

Because I was on the west coast I visited my daughter in San Francisco and my son and daughter-in-law in Los Angeles. I also spent a day at the Cathedral of Our Lady of Angels in downtown L.A. and wrote an article about it for Christian Century.

I'm home now, but busy and somewhat stressed trying to keep up with deadlines. I just turned in thirteen pieces for a preaching book for Abingdon Press. The website is flourishing and this ministry brings people into my life from around the world. I'm trying to write more carefully and seriously about the liturgical year and the mystical life, hoping to put the work I've done for a couple decades now into some sharable form. I'm leading retreats in July (Massachusetts), September (St. Louis) and October (Long Island).

Bill and I put in a new garden in front of St. Aidan's. Now that I don't grow cutting flowers in rows for the farmers' market, we put in a bench and created a shape for a “garden room”. You can't see the “room” yet, but when the dahlias are up (and as tall as me!) a visitor will be surrounded by a wall of colorful flowers. Bill will add a picket fence, which will soften the look of St. Aidan's from the front and enclose the cottage garden with a classic flourish.

On our Rogation procession, we blessed this new garden. At the center is a David Austen English Rose, which we planted in memory of my friend Frano, who died of cancer in September. Frano was a brilliant gardener and a faithful, loving friend since our teens. When I'm stressed I can make a cup of tea and sit with Frano's rose, surrounded by beauty, which Frano taught me so much about.

Rude Awakening

Last time I blogged I wrote about watching Kurdhish films during winter dream-time.  That in itself now seems like a dream.  Suddenly, come late February, the weather turned unseasonably warm, the fruit trees all started blooming, and life began to prematurely emerge from winter sleep.  By mid-March we seem to have plunged from winter directly into summer.  I missed the customary pruning of the fruit trees and bushes, which normally happens in early March while the plants are still dormant.  Without warning, the trees were all suddenly blooming. Then, at the end of March/beginning of April, came two weeks of freezes.  I stayed awake many of those nights worrying that the frost would snap the life out of the fruit blossoms.  Fortunately, the fruit trees and bushes survived the freezes, probably because of our location halfway up the hill, a microclimate that seems to have protected the blossoms from frost that surely would have nipped them further down the hill.  

Meanwhile, we had started lots of seeds indoors in our "seed rooms":  broccoli, cabbage, cauliflower, kale, collard greens, parsley, chard, lettuce, celery.  By mid-March they were yearning to be transplanted into larger containers.  At the same time, it was time to plant peas outdoors.  We moved into action, and since then, it has been pretty much non-stop activity, both indoors and out.  By now we have planted many of our seedlings into the garden, and direct-seeded peas, beets, carrots, turnips, daikon and parsnips.  We have also planted lots of fruit trees and bushes, such as Asian pears, mulberries, gooseberries, blueberries, blackberries, rhubarb and kiwis.  It has been a marathon of planting, as April always is.  

In addition to the "normal" hyper-activity of April, this year we have a new focus:  we got a cow!  Yes, Jiffy arrived on Easter Monday.   She is a Jersey, is eight years old, and is pregnant, expecting a calf in August.   Sr. Carol Bernice is the main "milk maiden."  Milking can be like a meditatiion, and others have joined Sr. Carol Bernice for this, as well as for general cow-care.  Bill has put weeks of work into turning the former field house into a milking parlor, the former caretaker's garage into a barn, and the former playing field into a pasture.  The addition of a cow is momentous for our little farm.  Her milk is rich and delicious, her manure is like gold for the garden, and her presence elevates the level of consciousness on the farm.  And Sr. Carol Bernice, while definitely tired from all this new responsibility, seems radiant.  

Delia, our new postulant, has been using her creative powers to revision the lower part of the orchard, where we have raspberries and other bush and tree fruits.  She has rejuvenated the raspberry patch, planted blackberries, and is currently putting her mind to the most beautiful and enlivening way to grow hops.  

The spring harvest is already in progress:  asparagus, scorzonera greens, sorrel, rhubarb, Turkish rockett, onions from last year, and all manner of herbs.  It's delightful to be eating fresh salads once again.  Although we appreciate the staples that get us through the winter, like potatoes, carrots, beets and rutabagas, we do so appreciate being able to eat fresh greens again.

So winter is over, spring has sprung, we have been jolted out of our winter dream-time, and summer is not far away. It has been a rude awakening, but maybe by May Day we will be able to take a little breather, relax for a day or two, and then get ready for the push to the second stage of planting, after the last frost, when we plant out tomatoes, peppers, eggplants, and other of the more sensitive plants.  Here's to the new growing season: may it be prosperous for all.  

Three cheers for local arts!

We are thrilled to include support of local arts in our vision for Melrose. Several theater companies and even a summer theater camp for children use our school stage. Last night I enjoyed Brewster Theater Company's performance of "Blithe Spirit", and it was absolutely fabulous! A perfectly delightful, high-spirited evening for $15. If you're in this neighborhood, don't miss this Noel Coward confection. And "The Full Monty" coming up in August is bound to be a hoot, and not to be missed!

An April Morning

When the alarm woke me this morning, I really wanted to stay in my warm bed next to the purring cat. But...the ducks and chickens needed to be taken care of. So I trudged downstairs, got my coat and wellies on and made my way down to their houses. It was the perfect Easter Day, chilly yet windless. After I opened up the houses, and all the birds happily made their way out, I heard the blue bird's heartachingly beautiful trills and then saw him slowly fluttering toward their nesting box below the chicken/duck yard. It was like seeing a piece of sky fabric wafting down before me. Then I was reminded of an Easter Day many years ago when I was a teen on a trail ride in northern Arizona. I felt guily letting my grandmother and parents convince me I should go on the ride (I had never missed the Easter Eucharist in my life). When I woke up that morning I was grieving for the loss of Blueberry, a blue roan who when being unloaded from the trailer, broke his leg and had to be put down. Even though he wasn't my mount that weekend, I liked him as I loved all the other horses. The girls in my cabin seemed completely oblivious of this tragedy so I mourned alone. Because I was the first one up, I was able to walk out to the barn without having anyone see me crying. While there, Frank, the ranch manager saw me and gently put his hand on my shoulder asking me what was the matter. I told him about Blueberry and what I perceived as insensitivity from the other students. He calmly heard me out and offered me breakfast in his bunkhouse. He fixed us fried eggs, homemade bread toast slathered with butter and prickly pear jam (he had canned the latter himself), thick slabs of bacon, and coffee (which I had never had before). Frank told me he understood about how I felt but not to think too badly of the other kids. Then he said that since I was the first up, why not go get all the horses down from the upper pasture and bring them down to the corral. His directions were clear, and I set out to fetch our little herd. As I walked up there I was surrounded by the scent and sight of pine trees that always make my heart leap. The air was crisp and clean, and I could hear one of the horses whinny. Birds were everywhere and I could see there was a soft mist rising in the hollers. Having found the group of horses, I put a halter on Cheater, the horse I had picked for the trip. Riding bareback and herding the others down the mountain, I breathed in all the beauty and life around me and was renewed. It had to be the best and most meaningful Easter morning I have ever experienced.

Spring Planting

Our street level garden is going in today, Maundy Thursday. They brought in about 51 cubic yards of topsoil this morning; it was interesting to see how they got it past the tall wrought iron fence -- up and over using a fork-lift.  It is a gorgeous day for planting. Here are some "before" and "during" shots. I'll post some "after" shots, well, after they are done planting.