Blessed Lammas ~ Harvest of the First Fruits
May all children be well fed.
(artwork: Gathering Wheat by Daniel Ridgway Knight)
Showing posts with label Seasons. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Seasons. Show all posts
01 August 2011
Blessed Lammas
Blessed Lammas ~ Harvest of the First Fruits
May all children be well fed.
(artwork: Gathering Wheat by Daniel Ridgway Knight)
27 March 2011
The Universe is playing with me and I’m letting it.
Today was a magical day for finding hidden treasures.
Every morning for the past year or so it has been my habit upon waking to do my prayers and mediation, then I check Facebook and eMails and then do some yoga. If it’s not too stormy and my hip bursitis is not giving me grief I take about a two to three mile walk past the duck pond where I feed the old goose and the other ducks, and the crows and seagulls if they’re around, whatever bread crumbs we had in the house. The last part of my walk takes me through the graveyard and into the Luther Burbank Experimental Farm. I was feeling a bit nostalgic in the orchard today, as I have spent many cathartic hours there over the past year and a half. And since I may be having less time for that in the next few months, I wasn’t eager for my time to end there today. After walking the trails I sat down under one of the bigger oak trees that stand sentinel in the orchard. I sat for about twenty minutes just counting my blessings and marveling at the changes I’ve seen myself through during this “season of timelessness”. When I rose I looked into the bowl of the tree I had been sitting under, where the branches all meet the trunk, just about eye level. There among the dried leaves and sticks and rotting acorns was some camoflage duck tape and I saw that it was covering a plastic container. My first thought was that I’d discovered someone’s secret drug stash…hmmm, curious.
I poked at the container with a stick.
Here, I had a flash of the state of our sad society incumbent with indoctrinated fears and then laughed at myself for thinking any terrorist would leave a bomb to detonate in an old oak tree in the middle of nowhere and even if it were I was so happy at the day I was having that it didn’t matter to me if it all ended right then. Nothing happened when I poked it. I rolled it over I could see a little writing through the plastic bottom which had no tape. Still, I thought maybe it was someone’s private letter to God or something and it wasn’t any of my business.
Still.
Curious.
I thought about Pandora and her box that contained all the evils in the world. And just what would I be letting into my life by opening it.
(Pandora's Box by Marta Dahlig)
Still.
Curious.
I open it and see that it contains a tiny book and something else wrapped in a paper napkin.
Experimental Persimmon Letterbox handmade rubber stamp.
The book is decorated with various stamps.
A website address was written on the inside of the container www.letterboxing.org
After I get home and I look up the website a most amazing phenomena unfolds. It is a truly an art form that I was not aware of. According to the website letterboxing began in Dartmoor, England and the practice is over 150 years old. After an article about letterboxing appeared in America individuals began hiding letterboxes on this side of the pond! In fact, there are currently no less than seven in my hometown. The idea is to create a secret logbook and a personal rubber stamp. The book and stamp are stashed in a remote, interesting or beautiful spot and clues are left (for example on the website, which begs the question how the clues were shared before the advent of the internet). The treasure hunters then search out the letterboxes and when they find one they place their own homemade rubber stamp on the next page and date and if they choose they can put the letterbox rubberstamp in their own log book like a record of all the letterboxes found.
I am so amazed that I found this secret treasure quite by accident. Even though it was not a homemade rubber stamp I placed a rubber stamp impression from one that I’d had at home and dated and signed the little book and placed an extra Ziploc around the contents and replaced it back in the tree where it was discovered.
Finding the letterbox today was a affirmation to me that this dark night of the soul during which I have been richly blessed in many hidden ways but struggled in many ways too, that perhaps maybe it is a sign that the hardness of winter is indeed melting into a warm caress of possibility. And I am eager to start the next season of my life and look for ever new treasures in secret places.
Every morning for the past year or so it has been my habit upon waking to do my prayers and mediation, then I check Facebook and eMails and then do some yoga. If it’s not too stormy and my hip bursitis is not giving me grief I take about a two to three mile walk past the duck pond where I feed the old goose and the other ducks, and the crows and seagulls if they’re around, whatever bread crumbs we had in the house. The last part of my walk takes me through the graveyard and into the Luther Burbank Experimental Farm. I was feeling a bit nostalgic in the orchard today, as I have spent many cathartic hours there over the past year and a half. And since I may be having less time for that in the next few months, I wasn’t eager for my time to end there today. After walking the trails I sat down under one of the bigger oak trees that stand sentinel in the orchard. I sat for about twenty minutes just counting my blessings and marveling at the changes I’ve seen myself through during this “season of timelessness”. When I rose I looked into the bowl of the tree I had been sitting under, where the branches all meet the trunk, just about eye level. There among the dried leaves and sticks and rotting acorns was some camoflage duck tape and I saw that it was covering a plastic container. My first thought was that I’d discovered someone’s secret drug stash…hmmm, curious.
I poked at the container with a stick.
Here, I had a flash of the state of our sad society incumbent with indoctrinated fears and then laughed at myself for thinking any terrorist would leave a bomb to detonate in an old oak tree in the middle of nowhere and even if it were I was so happy at the day I was having that it didn’t matter to me if it all ended right then. Nothing happened when I poked it. I rolled it over I could see a little writing through the plastic bottom which had no tape. Still, I thought maybe it was someone’s private letter to God or something and it wasn’t any of my business.
Still.
Curious.
I thought about Pandora and her box that contained all the evils in the world. And just what would I be letting into my life by opening it.
Still.
Curious.
I open it and see that it contains a tiny book and something else wrapped in a paper napkin.
The book is decorated with various stamps.
A website address was written on the inside of the container www.letterboxing.org
After I get home and I look up the website a most amazing phenomena unfolds. It is a truly an art form that I was not aware of. According to the website letterboxing began in Dartmoor, England and the practice is over 150 years old. After an article about letterboxing appeared in America individuals began hiding letterboxes on this side of the pond! In fact, there are currently no less than seven in my hometown. The idea is to create a secret logbook and a personal rubber stamp. The book and stamp are stashed in a remote, interesting or beautiful spot and clues are left (for example on the website, which begs the question how the clues were shared before the advent of the internet). The treasure hunters then search out the letterboxes and when they find one they place their own homemade rubber stamp on the next page and date and if they choose they can put the letterbox rubberstamp in their own log book like a record of all the letterboxes found.
I am so amazed that I found this secret treasure quite by accident. Even though it was not a homemade rubber stamp I placed a rubber stamp impression from one that I’d had at home and dated and signed the little book and placed an extra Ziploc around the contents and replaced it back in the tree where it was discovered.
Finding the letterbox today was a affirmation to me that this dark night of the soul during which I have been richly blessed in many hidden ways but struggled in many ways too, that perhaps maybe it is a sign that the hardness of winter is indeed melting into a warm caress of possibility. And I am eager to start the next season of my life and look for ever new treasures in secret places.
09 May 2010
16 March 2010
Transformative March winds blow through me and the trees
chasing the most timid and reluctant autumn leaves from their winter hold and
display fiery colour as yet hidden from view.
And I sense a change come over me.
I observe.
I feel the fecund earth move underneath my footsteps.
I breath.
There is a path before me and a path that went before
I am anchored only to my center.
(c) 2010
Artwork: Boreas, 1902, from John William Waterhouse
26 January 2010
Winter Pause
The truth is that in this very moment of deepest winter with all its paradox and juxtaposition, of frosty rooftop mornings, fuzzy magnolia buds and daffodil bulbs yet to burst forth with color and ever new life, that I can be in winter pause and know another spring lies just ahead; that bitterness melts into a caress. The truth is that at this very moment we know - all we are, all we can become and all we might never be. And as I contemplate my deepest, darkest fears, I watch for temperate signs of spring, of hope for a kind renewal and the assurance of perennial love. (c) 2010
artwork: Windflowers by Godward
artwork: Windflowers by Godward
10 January 2010
I got the photos uploaded of my peach cobbler and of the birds enjoying my homemade suet pine cone. Decided to give them a post of their own.
I have had such a good time making this and then watching the birds enjoy it and flit about the Bradford Pear Tree where they naturally come for the red berries at this time of year.
I can't wait to make another one.
25 December 2009
Christmas Past and Present
One of our family traditions started back in 1991. Like 2009, it was a lean holiday. Our son was born in April and just starting to wobble and our daughter just turned seven. All she wanted that year was a bike, a new two wheeler. But since my husband was on unemployment and I was not working outside the home at the time that was not going to be possible. And to add insult to injury everyday on our local news with the late great weatherman Mike Ambrose in San Diego, was an ongoing collection of bikes for the needy. And everyday they were tallying the new bike donations totals. There were shiny red tricycles and brand new ten-speeds filling up the news studio.
As Christmas approached and the money for presents was not presenting itself and as I continued to watch these bikes pile up and wanting one desperately for my daughter to find on her Christmas morning, I swallowed my pride and called the news station. I explained to the receptionist that I saw the bike collection going on and I wondered how one might go about getting one for their child. While I never considered (or would have admitted) that we were needy I explained our situation and she gave me a number to call. It was for the Salvation Army. They asked me a few questions, like how many were in our family, what our ages were, stuff like that. Then she gave me an appointment to go and pick up our bike.
The next day my husband and I drove to a warehouse where we were directed to a line to wait and as our turn came up we were given a brand new stingray bike with pink and white streamers on the handle bars. I had told the person on the phone we had enough food and our rent was paid we didn't need much but the bike for my daughter would be all we would think to ask for. Still, in addition to the bike we were given some toys for the baby and a box of food stuffs. Some basics, like some rice and some canned goods. We humbly accepted the generosity. We used up the canned goods except for one. It was a can of vegetarian mock duck. It must have been donated from someone who shopped at an oriental market. It was quite an unusual thing. We marveled at what it could possibly be. We searched for an ingredients list. Gluten flour and water. We shared many good laughs over that little can of mock duck. I knew we would never eat such a thing but I felt it held too precious a meaning to toss it out. Someone had shared their fare for our welfare and benefit and I had no right on earth to snub my nose at such an act of kindness. I wrapped the can in some leftover tissue paper and placed it in a box with the rest of the holiday decorations. Every year since then it has made the rounds as the annual gag gift between us. When it is opened by the unsuspecting recipient, we all laugh the same laugh again and retell the story of the great generosity that was given to us.
My wish is that everyone makes the time to pause and appreciate those precious gifts we share with each other.
As Christmas approached and the money for presents was not presenting itself and as I continued to watch these bikes pile up and wanting one desperately for my daughter to find on her Christmas morning, I swallowed my pride and called the news station. I explained to the receptionist that I saw the bike collection going on and I wondered how one might go about getting one for their child. While I never considered (or would have admitted) that we were needy I explained our situation and she gave me a number to call. It was for the Salvation Army. They asked me a few questions, like how many were in our family, what our ages were, stuff like that. Then she gave me an appointment to go and pick up our bike.
The next day my husband and I drove to a warehouse where we were directed to a line to wait and as our turn came up we were given a brand new stingray bike with pink and white streamers on the handle bars. I had told the person on the phone we had enough food and our rent was paid we didn't need much but the bike for my daughter would be all we would think to ask for. Still, in addition to the bike we were given some toys for the baby and a box of food stuffs. Some basics, like some rice and some canned goods. We humbly accepted the generosity. We used up the canned goods except for one. It was a can of vegetarian mock duck. It must have been donated from someone who shopped at an oriental market. It was quite an unusual thing. We marveled at what it could possibly be. We searched for an ingredients list. Gluten flour and water. We shared many good laughs over that little can of mock duck. I knew we would never eat such a thing but I felt it held too precious a meaning to toss it out. Someone had shared their fare for our welfare and benefit and I had no right on earth to snub my nose at such an act of kindness. I wrapped the can in some leftover tissue paper and placed it in a box with the rest of the holiday decorations. Every year since then it has made the rounds as the annual gag gift between us. When it is opened by the unsuspecting recipient, we all laugh the same laugh again and retell the story of the great generosity that was given to us.
My wish is that everyone makes the time to pause and appreciate those precious gifts we share with each other.
24 December 2009
21 December 2009
A very rare experience happened to me today. Since my unemployment, I feel as if I've entered a timelessness and with the onset of winter that feeling is even more increased, just as the light has decreased.
But back to the experience, I was standing in the grocery line, and the bottle of lavender scented bubble bath that I bought as a little treat for myself, did not scan. You know how annoying that is. So the clerk sent the bagger to run and perform a visual price check. After several moments time, and as the clerk tried to make small talk and finish up the bagging task, the runner still had not returned. So we waited. And as we waited the line began to increase behind me. I had all but transacted my business so I was starting to get a little impatient myself for his return as I had other errands to run before I could start making a lasagna for a family friend whose mother just passed away. As my mind wandered a bit, the lady in line behind me began to ask the clerk if she had a fifty dollar bill and discussing the merits of giving a gift of cash to someone she hardly knew versus giving a gift card because the gift card entailed fees and restrictions including a $4 initiation fee. We were all in agreement that the gift cards were basically a rip-off. Meanwhile, with our runner still MIA, I decline to purchase the bubble bath (I'll continue to use the dish-soap as I have for the past few weeks) and collected my change. And as I turned to leave the lady behind me said, "Thank you for making me wait, it allowed me the time to rethink my purchase and saved me $8." Well, slap me thrice and hand me to me mammy! What a nice thing to say.
And it made me realise that all to often at this sacred time of year we're all too busy rushing around and seemingly carrying the burdens of the world on our shoulders when we should just take a step back, take a breath and pause...
This year has been radically different for me than any year before. First of all, my children are grown, my youngest having reached majority earlier this year. Besides that, they are both traveling out of state to spend the holiday with their father's family. And I have been unemployed now for some 12 weeks. So the cash flow has been adversely affected. As a result I have lowered my expectations for the holiday all together. And the pay off is that I can't remember ever having a more stress-free Christmas holiday. I've taken the time to enjoy the sweetness that has been offered and I have not really missed those things that I could not manage. This awareness has offered me a gift that cannot be purchased or bartered.
Happy Solstice blessings.
But back to the experience, I was standing in the grocery line, and the bottle of lavender scented bubble bath that I bought as a little treat for myself, did not scan. You know how annoying that is. So the clerk sent the bagger to run and perform a visual price check. After several moments time, and as the clerk tried to make small talk and finish up the bagging task, the runner still had not returned. So we waited. And as we waited the line began to increase behind me. I had all but transacted my business so I was starting to get a little impatient myself for his return as I had other errands to run before I could start making a lasagna for a family friend whose mother just passed away. As my mind wandered a bit, the lady in line behind me began to ask the clerk if she had a fifty dollar bill and discussing the merits of giving a gift of cash to someone she hardly knew versus giving a gift card because the gift card entailed fees and restrictions including a $4 initiation fee. We were all in agreement that the gift cards were basically a rip-off. Meanwhile, with our runner still MIA, I decline to purchase the bubble bath (I'll continue to use the dish-soap as I have for the past few weeks) and collected my change. And as I turned to leave the lady behind me said, "Thank you for making me wait, it allowed me the time to rethink my purchase and saved me $8." Well, slap me thrice and hand me to me mammy! What a nice thing to say.
And it made me realise that all to often at this sacred time of year we're all too busy rushing around and seemingly carrying the burdens of the world on our shoulders when we should just take a step back, take a breath and pause...
This year has been radically different for me than any year before. First of all, my children are grown, my youngest having reached majority earlier this year. Besides that, they are both traveling out of state to spend the holiday with their father's family. And I have been unemployed now for some 12 weeks. So the cash flow has been adversely affected. As a result I have lowered my expectations for the holiday all together. And the pay off is that I can't remember ever having a more stress-free Christmas holiday. I've taken the time to enjoy the sweetness that has been offered and I have not really missed those things that I could not manage. This awareness has offered me a gift that cannot be purchased or bartered.
Happy Solstice blessings.
Gabriel's Message ~ Sting
One of my favourite Christmas songs, and my offering to you dear readers with a humble and grateful bow to Sting. *~*Happy Solstice*~*
11 December 2009
Remembering the meaning of Hanukkah
So I bought a lovely menorah last year on an after-holiday sale, although I am not Jewish. However, it did not come with candles. And with the present state of negative cash-flow I was unable to purchase any in time for tonight's candle-lighting. Apparently menorah candles are of a very specific size. And after searching through junk drawers and discovering that birthday candles are indeed too small and the little white candles that fit into my Swedish angel chime candle are just a little too big, I decided that the cinnamon-scented, red pillar candle that I also bought last year would serve the purpose. Because, as I explained to my loved ones, the very meaning of Hanukkah is that there will be enough. In fact, we have more than we even realise we have. For just as it seemed that there was only enough lamp oil for one day, it in fact lasted for eight days. And that is what I am trying to remember this season. We have enough. I am enough. And whether it is red pillar candle or a Swedish angel chime or a menorah, the light is all the same.
10 December 2009
Johnny Mathis and the holidays
Tonight we are seeing Johnny Mathis. We bought the tickets months ago before the unemployment hit us. Tomorrow is our fifth wedding anniversary and Johnny Mathis Christmas music played a big part in our honeymoon. We kept hearing it everywhere we went. This will be our combination Christmas and anniversary present.
25 November 2009
Betty's Cranberry Salad
For Thanksgiving I offer my recipe for this family favourite. I first got a taste of this sweetness back when I was a young working girl. Those halcyon days when I worked at Silvergate Savings in Ocean Beach. My supervisor, Betty Wilson, brought this to work one day and I think I've made it every year since. The tang of the fresh cranberries is tempered by the sweetness of the sugar and pineapple and marshmallows. Make this the night before to let the flavours marry for a delicious treat on your holiday table.
Rinse and drain the fresh cranberries.
Chop the cranberries in a food processor. Add sugar and refrigerate for one hour.
Once the sugar has macerated with the cranberries to create a lovely red syrup add the crushed pineapple (don't be a goof like me and forget to drain the pineapple - just saying).
Next stir in the sour cream and the chopped nuts. I know, you wouldn't think, but it does. Go figure.
Add the marshmallows. (My research shows that the amount of marshmallows called for is approximately two handfuls minus one mouthful. Your mileage may vary.)
Yummy!
I hope everyone has a safe and blessed Thanksgiving.
Betty’s Cranberry Salad
12 oz bag or .75 lb fresh cranberries, washed & drained
1 2/3 C. sugar
1 8 oz can crushed pineapple, drained
1 C. (or more if desired) miniature marshmallows
3/4 C. sour cream
½ C. chopped walnuts
Chop cranberries in food processor (1/2 at a time). Put in bowl and add sugar, let stand for one hour. Add pineapple, sour cream, marshmallows and nuts. Stir well. Cover and refrigerate overnight.
Rinse and drain the fresh cranberries.
Chop the cranberries in a food processor. Add sugar and refrigerate for one hour.
Once the sugar has macerated with the cranberries to create a lovely red syrup add the crushed pineapple (don't be a goof like me and forget to drain the pineapple - just saying).
Next stir in the sour cream and the chopped nuts. I know, you wouldn't think, but it does. Go figure.
Add the marshmallows. (My research shows that the amount of marshmallows called for is approximately two handfuls minus one mouthful. Your mileage may vary.)
Yummy!
I hope everyone has a safe and blessed Thanksgiving.
Betty’s Cranberry Salad
12 oz bag or .75 lb fresh cranberries, washed & drained
1 2/3 C. sugar
1 8 oz can crushed pineapple, drained
1 C. (or more if desired) miniature marshmallows
3/4 C. sour cream
½ C. chopped walnuts
Chop cranberries in food processor (1/2 at a time). Put in bowl and add sugar, let stand for one hour. Add pineapple, sour cream, marshmallows and nuts. Stir well. Cover and refrigerate overnight.
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