Labor Day

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Today's Walk

Ah music to my ears! As I paused on our walk this afternoon to snap a photo of an unusual flower, Bella exclaimed: "I hear a cricket. Chirp, chirp, chirp." Indeed there was a cricket chirping nearby. Thank you, Eric Carle and The Very Quiet Cricket, my daughter just made her first insect identification. I am so proud.

Also on today's walk I helped Isabella to collect her first bucket of acorns. I'd realized while reading Pooh stories that she didn't know what Piglet's "haycorns" were, so I located an oak tree and within a minute had found a dozen little brown-capped nuts. She was so pleased she carried them around in her bucket and ran to show them to her daddy when he came home.

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Found!

Getting out the box of next size baby clothes for Sophia. I'm finally graduating her to 3-6 month clothes.... she'll be six months next week. Don't know why it's taken me so long to admit she doesn't fit into most of the 0-3 month stuff. I guess a couple of the dresses were on the larger size and of course onesies stretch wonderfully. But this stuff fits so much better.

And I finally found the green night shirt I lost this past spring. The one that was so comfortable to wear while pregnant. Yeah, I packed it in with the baby clothes.

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"A Most Terribly Tidy Particular Little Mouse"

I've started calling Isabella Mrs. Tittlemouse, after her favorite Beatrix Potter character. This morning offered up a classic example of her extreme tidiness. I'd given her some slices of cheese in a plastic bag and when she finished them she went to the kitchen garbage can to throw the bag away. But she discovered that I'd taken the trash out to the curb this morning and forgotten to put a new trash bag in the can. So she headed to the shelf by the door where we keep the trash bags so she could get a replacement bag before she threw away her trash. I found her there tugging a bag out from the box.

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100 Species Challenge: Magnolia

It's taken me some time to get going; but here is my first entry for the 100 Species Challenge.

I was positive that the tree in our yard was a variety of magnolia, but I didn't know what species it was. And I discovered that Magnolia is a large genus of about 210 flowering plant species (Wikipedia: magnolia). So I had a little detective work to do. I do know that it isn't the same as either the magnolias I knew from Texas (magnolia grandiflora) or the ones I'd seen in Boston (I think those are the hybrid Magnolia × soulangeana or saucer magnolia).

I think ours might be a Magnolia tripetala, commonly called Umbrella magnolia (wikipedia article here, and pictures here).

Wikipedia says:

Magnolia tripetala, commonly called Umbrella magnolia, is a deciduous tree native to the southeastern United States in the Appalachian Mountains region. Umbrella magnolias have large shiny leaves 30-50 cm long, spreading from stout stems. In a natural setting the Umbrella magnolia can grow 15 m tall. The flowers are large, 15-25 cm diameter, with six to nine creamy-white petals and a large red style, which later develops into a red fruit 10 cm long, containing several red seeds.

These trees are attractive and easy to grow. The leaves will turn yellow in the autumn. It is also sometimes known as 'Umbrella tree'.

Pictures I took this spring and last fall. I thought I had a picture of the flower, but I guess not.

Fun facts about magnolias:

• The genus is named after French botanist Pierre Magnol.



• Having evolved before bees appeared, the flowers developed to encourage pollination by beetles. As a result, the carpels of Magnolia flowers are tough, to avoid damage by eating and crawling beetles.



• Another primitive aspect of Magnolias is their lack of distinct sepals or petals. The term tepal has been coined to refer to the intermediate element that Magnolia has instead.

Other links with pictures: Duke, Virginia Tech. Tree Topics

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When Beatrix Potter Meets Margaret Wise Brown

We were reading Goodnight Moon this afternoon and Bella pointed to the "old lady whispering hush" and said, "That's Hunca-Munca. Her name is Hunca-Munca."

A very curious leap of logic. Especially since the old woman is a rabbit and Hunca-Munca is a mouse.

Maybe because, like The Tale of Two Bad Mice, Goodnight Moon also features a dolls house near a fireplace?

Bella went on to say, "She wants to go in the house." and "Hunca-Munca sweeps the floor."

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Not at All Well

Something about deciding to go to the doctor sent me over the edge. I was coping, not feeling great but coping. Yesterday and today I have felt really, really, really sick. Every muscle in my body aches and my skin feels as if some gnomes have been creeping into my bed at night and rubbing me down with sandpaper. (Sophie? have you been playing with daddy's tool box?) If I didn't have the two wee ones to watch over I'd have spent the day in bed. And the antibiotics seem to be upsetting my digestive system as well.

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Resolved

I finally broke down and went to the doctor this morning and was diagnosed with an upper respiratory infection. I think I've had it for about a month now, since I had a cold back in June.

The thing was that unlike previous bouts with bronchitis, I haven't been coughing constantly. Just four or five times a day I have a long asthmatic-type coughing fit. What finally convinced me to get it checked out was when it began interfering with Sophia's sleep.... I'd just get her to fall asleep and then I'd start hacking and I'd have to begin the whole process of soothing her again. By which time I'd be wide awake and unable to fall asleep.

Now at least I'm getting it treated with antibiotics and should be getting back to better health. Why am I so stubborn? Why do I hate going to the doctor so much? Why does it take me so long to take care of myself?

But the girls had a nice visit with their cousins while I went to the doctor and then we stayed for lunch, came home late for naps and had a troubled afternoon. When we finally did sleep, we slept until after five. Just in time to get up for dinner with daddy, say goodbye as he left for a meeting at church and then back to bed. Which is where I should be going.... Goodnight, sweet ladies....Goodnight.

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Sorrel Tart

The sorrel tart was a huge success! I made it with green onion and shallot. It had a wonderful lemony flavor, very delicate and so different from the spinach quiche I make, though the recipes look quite similar.

I served smashed new potatoes and a green salad on the side. I reserved a few of the sorrel leaves for the salad, added some arugula, an heirloom tomato, radish, avocado, cucumber, and goat cheese. It was so good it almost didn't need a dressing; but I served it with a homemade Italian vinaigrette with a dash of lime. A great showcase of our late-summer farmer's market haul. We popped open a bottle of white wine, a crisp Savignon Blanc that was perfect.

The only negative was that it took me forever to pull it all together and poor Sophia was cranky gassy and poor Dom was stuck trying to soothe her. But I seemed forgiven for making him mind the screaming baby when we sat down to eat.

And sorrel is my favorite new ingredient. I'll be buying more in the future.

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The Moon is at the Market

As we pulled into the parking lot at church this morning I heard Bella chanting in the back seat: "God bless the moon and God bless me...." So I joined in and recited the whole rhyme and then asked if she saw the moon. "I don't see the moon," she replied. "The moon is at the market. The moon flew away."

We saw the moon yesterday morning when we were at the farmer's market. I suppose it is logical to conclude that it stayed there.

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Dancing at the Farmer's Market, the Video

Isabella dances at the farmer's market from Domenico Bettinelli on Vimeo.

Dom writes: The musician, Oen Kennedy, was playing his guitar and we stopped to listen. Isabella started dancing and clapping and laughing along. After this video, he started another song and it wasn't until he was some way through that we realized he was improvising as he went about Bella dancing and playing. At the end, he hinted that the CD he is recording now might have a bonus track inspired by the improvised song.

Of course we signed up for his mailing list!

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Dancing at the Farmer's Market

This is the high season for fresh goodies at the farmer's market. Today we got ripe raspberries, blueberries, strawberries, peaches, early apples, heirloom tomatoes and cherry tomatoes, Thai basil, mint, cilantro, arugula, French sorrel, new potatoes, and of course cheese. And Dom bought a beautiful bunch of cut flowers.


fresh cut flowers from Dom

I had Sophie in a front carrier and she tried to help me pick and eat the produce and the bags I placed it in. She was bright eyed and cheerful and won many smiles.

Bella and I polished off the raspberries before we were even done with the shopping. She loves them as much as I do and shoveled them in as fast as I doled them out. It was a contest to see which of us could eat more. I tried to be fair and give her as many as I had. When they were gone and I gave her a handful of blueberries she looked quite disappointed. She ate them slowly and almost grudgingly.

After we'd made the rounds we settled down on a little grassy lawn to enjoy our booty and listen to some music. There is always someone there playing, a different musician or group every week. It occurred to me today that this is Bella's first and thus far only experience of live music. As I settled down on the grass my first impression of the young man strumming his guitar in a tie-died shirt was a little dismissive. It sounded like the usual hippie "make love, not war" stuff I've come to expect. But Bella begged to get down and was soon spinning and hopping and dancing her little toddler dance on the green grass. And then the song ended as the young man with long hair began to introduce the next song, which he said was called "Ook." He told a story about himself when he was about ten months old, not even walking yet, how he'd play with a pile of records and lift his favorite one up in the air and utter the one word he knew: "Ook." His word for music. It was a fun little auto-biographical song, the title track, he said, on the album he's currently recording. And nicely appropriate considering Bella and the other small children laughing and clapping and dancing on the grass. (Well, ok, Bella was really the only one dancing; but there were several other children listening and one cute baby clapping.)

And then he began a song which was even more apropos: "I love to dance," he sang, "I love to spin... I love to fall down on the green grass...." Charmingly fitting while Bella danced and bounced and clapped along with the lyrics. Gradually I realized that he was making the song up as he went, composing a tune for the day and for my delighted dancing daughter. "I love the blue sky... I love dogs..."He was never obviously watching her any more than anyone else in the crowd, but the lyrics spoke to her nonetheless and to her enchanted parents watching.

At the end of the song another plug for his mailing list and the new CD. And he said that there were fourteen tracks and then added that there might be a few bonus tracks.... inspired by today. After that how could Dom resist going and signing up for the mailing list? Thanks to the wonders of Google and a husband who both talks to strangers and remembers names (though this one was unusual enough, I'd probably have remembered it too), I even discovered his website OenKennedy.com where I learned that he was a music therapist at the Perkins School for the Blind where my sister-in-law once worked. You can listen to samples of his two albums and buy them there. So that's my plug for the cool musician who made Bella dance.


French sorrel

So now I have to figure out how the heck one cooks sorrel. That was the new item we decided to try this week. It has a surprisingly strong lemony flavor. Google to the rescue again: I think this sorrel tart looks like it might be fun. Perhaps for brunch or dinner tomorrow with a fresh garden salad.... I'll put a little sorrel aside to toss in the salad with some arugula and romaine and use the rest in the tart.

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Once a Month Shopping

I was intrigued by this series of posts at Raising Arrows that describes how a large family saves money and time by making one trip to the grocery store a month.

Frankly, I don't think we're there yet. I find that one trip a week with my two girls is not overwhelming and suits us just fine. Nor am I sure I'll ever be. She does say that she makes a small trip every week or two for milk and eggs. But she says nothing about fresh produce. Since I eat and cook with mostly fresh fruits and vegetables, I'm going to have to make a shopping trip about once a week anyway, that's about the longest I can make them last. And if I'm going to the store for produce and dairy, I might as well pick up dry goods at the same time.-- especially since we don't have a lot of pantry space and so keeping canned and boxed goods for a whole month's worth of menus would take up more space than we really have. Also, I do try to buy meat when it's on sale, but that often means at least one type of meat is on sale every other week or so. So all in all I don't see myself adopting once-a-month shopping.

Still, one valuable tip the series offers that I think I will adopt is the Master Grocery List, a list of all the foodstuffs you like to have regularly stocked, as well as the quantity you want to always have on hand. Right before making a trip to the store, you simply go through the pantry, fridge and freezer and check whether you have the desired quantities on hand. Write in the number needed on the blank and then check each item off as you make your way through the store.

Although I don't have a set menu and don't like the idea of a repeating menu, I do find myself making the same core meals over and over again and liking to have a basic set of ingredients on hand. I think having a master list could really streamline my weekly list making and help me avoid either overbuying or forgetting a necessity and then having to either change plans of run out to the store mid-week.

* Part 1: Introduction
* Part 2: The Master Meal List
* Part 3: The Master Grocery List
* Part 4: Shopping Day


via Jen's favorite links

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Books and Character

Don't miss this excellent series of posts by the Headmistress at The Common Room blog.

And while I make no apologies for sheltering my younger children, I also want to look ahead to a time when my sons in law will be able to trust their wives' wisdom, and my daughters will be aware enough of the world so that they can wisely do their families good and not evil. I want to look ahead to the time when my children will be interacting with other young adults in the world, or might be parents.

So I use books with characters who behave in less than admirable ways, who sin, who do wrong, who serve as bad examples and horrible warnings. While a smart person learns from his mistakes, a wise person learns from other people's mistakes. I'd like it best if my children if my children can learn from the mistakes of characters in books, rather than from people who could really harm them physically or emotionally.

This surprises some of my Christian friends. Of course, I am not recommending gratuitously evil examples. But I do suggest that many Christians are too quick to dismiss valuable books because they expect their books, unlike real life, and decidedly unlike the Bible, to have only well behaved, admirable human beings in them.

Read the whole series:

Part I

Part II

Part III

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My Favorite Things

One of my absolute favorite things in the world is when I look down after placing my sleepy little baby in her bed and find the imprint of a little ear on my forearm where she'd rested her head while nursing. I almost wish I could make that mark permanent on my skin. I know how brief the time is that she'll be making them.

* * *

Bella is now at that age where she wants to bring armfuls of stuff wherever she goes. I adore the contents of her bags.

In the Winnie-the-Pooh lunch box: a toy cell phone, a faux-fur boa, a mailing envelope stuffed with little slips of paper (her "package" and "receipts"), a little wooden cow, a string of pink plastic beads.

In the smaller clear plastic handbag (It originally held bath toys.): two old cell phones given to her by my parents when they traded up, two sets of old keys that we no longer know what they open, a red and blue scarf I don't wear any more, a plastic lei given to her at the parish picnic which she doesn't wear because she finds it uncomfortable.

* * *

I'm preparing pizza and Bella is sitting next to me on the kitchen chair chanting: "St Paul, pray a us; St Paul, pray a us; St Paul, pray a us." A litany with only one saint.

Now where did she learn that the pope declared this the Pauline year?

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Cinderbella

Found, courtesy of a back to school sale at Target: one broom with telescoping handle.

Priceless: a very happy little girl: "I'm sweeping!"

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A perfect combination

Yesterday afternoon I discovered that my apple-blueberry-ginger muffins were a perfect match for the ginger goat cheese I bought at the farmer's market on Saturday. I curled up on the couch with my muffin and cheese and a mug of good tea and David Copperfield while Bella slept and Sophia rolled around on the floor at my feet blowing raspberries. A little slice of heaven!

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Isabella's New Car

Isabella's new car from Domenico Bettinelli on Vimeo.

Daddy finally put together the car that Grandma VB gave her for her birthday back in May. We surprised her with it after her nap although she doesn't seem all that surprised: "My car, my car, my car, my car!" she exclaims. And then, "I in the car. I in the car." She's played in similar cars at her cousins' houses and her driving proficiency shows. We've hardly been able to get her out of the car since.

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The Rosary Book: The Joyful Mysteries

I meant to submit my review of this book to the Mary Moments carnival that celebrated the Feast of the Assumption last Friday; but I didn't get the pictures taken in time. Bella is all too aware of the camera and it's hard to get a good candid shot of her because she's either mugging for the camera or running up asking to see the pictures (one drawback of a digital camera.) In any case, I finally got a good shot-- or, rather Dom did.

One reason I wanted my review to wait for a picture of Bella is simply because the Amazon cover shot doesn't adequately give you a sense of the size of this book. I know the description says it's large enough for the whole family to see but I'm numerically challenged and the dimensions (21.5 x 14.3 x 0.3 inches) didn't really register. When we received it in the mail I wondered why Amazon had shipped one book in such a large box.




This is a beautiful book, intended to be a worship aid for the whole family, suitable for those who are rosary novices as well as veteran bead-slingers.

The prologue excerpts from Pope John Paul II's Apostolic Letter "Rosarium Virginis Mariae" and includes very helpful guidelines for prayer and contemplation.

This is followed by an illustrated "How to Pray the Rosary" page with a picture of a rosary and pointing arrows to guide you through which prayers to say on which beads (as well as a sort of "suggested use" photo of a family kneeling in prayer with the book propped on a home altar-- slightly idealized in comparison with all the family rosaries I've been a part of!) and also guidelines to help you use the book, which is pretty self-explanatory, however.

The full text of all the prayers is included on the next two pages: the sign of the cross, Apostles' Creed, Our Father, Hail Mary, Glory Be, the Fatima prayer, and Hail Holy Queen.

The announcement of each of the five Joyful mysteries is a full two-page spread with a lovely full page illustration. This is done in soft pastel. The traditional iconography draws on the artistic tradition of the Church with many rich details and yet the simple figures will also be attractive to small children as well. On the facing page is listed the fruit of the mystery (the power of humility, fraternal charity, the virtue of poverty, the virtue of obedience, the desire of God), a short scriptural meditation, and the Our Father.

This is followed by a page of antiphons that may be read with each Hail Mary. These are from the appropriate gospels as well as from the psalms, prophets, epistles, canticles and other Old Testament books. Each antiphon is illustrated with a medallion, the ten medallions forming a string of beads for the eyes to follow as you pray and meditate on the mystery. These are a little more cartoonish than the larger introductory illustrations with dark outlines and bold colors; but are also very lovely and have many beautiful details that will aid contemplation. You could spend quite some time just looking at the images in the various medallion apart from saying the rosary. Many of these have Latin labels in the various tags and banners.

So far Bella is too young to really sit through a whole rosary. We have done various things with this book. I'll point to the various pictures and identify the figures and tell her the story. Or we'll hold rosaries and say one or two of the prayers, either praying a few of the antiphons or saying a single Hail Mary, an Our Father and a Glory Be. I don't want her to find it taxing or to get bored; but, rather, I want it to be an introduction to prayer and the joy of contemplation. So far it seems to be working, she loves the book and asks me to get it down and points to the pictures and tries to say some of the prayers. Sometimes she runs for her rosary and holds it while we look through the book. When she begins to get distracted, I close the book. I don't try to force her to pray or pay attention any longer than her natural attention span.

I highly recommend this book for families-- it would also be wonderful for classroom use too. The large size does make it unusual and quite attractive to young children; but the high quality of the illustrations and scriptural meditations make it suitable for the whole family, adults and teens as well as young children. I have found that in reading through the book with Bella I have often lost myself in contemplation both via the artwork and the well-chosen prayers. I look forward to the publication of books for the Sorrowful, Luminous, and Glorious Mysteries. Tantalizing illustrations for all of these adorn the front cover of this book.

One slight problem--though not enough to keep me from recommending the book or wanting to purchase the rest in the series-- is the book's construction. The very first time we read it one of the staples pulled out of the middle page. This is not a book which will readily withstand much rough treatment, which doesn't bode well with toddlers. I think the book's makers didn't foresee it being handled as much as we do: that illustration of the book on a stand while the family kneels around in prayer seems to be intended use rather than lying on the floor while the toddler tugs and stands on the pages.

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Overwhelming Sorrow

I really liked this thought from Heirs in Hope:

When the angel of the Lord commands Lot and his family not to look back, I do not think he is creating a supreme test to determine whether they will be faithful. Instead, he seeks to protect them from a horror they cannot encompass. He warns them so as to save them from the becoming enmeshed in the destruction that befalls the cities on the plain.

Some things are too big for us. Some losses so great, they will destroy us. Some experiences so fraught with destruction, that only by God’s grace can we avoid being engulfed too. We have been created to shut down emotionally, to be unable to take in that which is overwhelming. But that very act of shutting down can become destruction if there is no awakening: when Lot’s wife looks back, what she sees is so overwhelming she becomes “pure, distilled tear-stuff, the physical manifestation of sorrow.

. . .

I think I can better understand the apostles who fled the crucifixion. In all history, that must have been the greatest horror anyone could have faced. How look on the sight of the man you know to be God being tortured and killed by those he came to save? How survive that? Sanity would drive them to hide, to believe they had perhaps been mistaken. But those who stayed – his Mother, John, the other Mary - those who bore it without being utterly destroyed, we know they received tremendous grace, were given the ability to see him die without becoming “the physical manifestation of sorrow.”

His grace is real, overcomes the most devastating sorrow. None of the ugliness in this world, not even the horrors men release on each other can impede the grace that is ours through Christ. And perhaps, one day we will meet Lot’s wife whose utter sorrow will have been transformed into absolute joy by the sight of His overwhelming love."

Read the whole article here

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Domesticity

I've been in a sort of slump the last couple of weeks. I'm not sure why but it's been difficult to get up the energy to accomplish much of anything. Fortunately this weekend I got over the hump and lots of things were achieved.

What got me there? Dom mopped the kitchen floor.

It's such a little thing but for some reason that dirty floor was the unsurmountable obstacle standing between me and all the dozens of little things that needed to be done around the house. I hate mopping hate it hate it hate it. And having it done for me was just the spur I needed.

Once that was accomplished I managed to vacuum and straighten the living room and dining room. Purge some clutter from Bella's toys and reorganize them. Give away a box of miscellaneous kitchen stuff some of which hasn't been used since we got married.

Freecycle, just the ticket for packrats like me who can't stand to throw away useful things. I know they went to a good home, to someone who wanted them. And I didn't have to take them anywhere. The person who wanted them came to my house and took them off the porch.

I moved a bunch of clutter to the basement and generally tidied up and even rearranged a few things. Now I actually enjoy walking into the living room again.

Of course them I discovered the mouse droppings and had to take everything out of the corner cupboard in the kitchen so the kitchen table is currently piled high with stuff. But that is only a temporary, emergency state of affairs. I can live with it.

And to top it all off yesterday I woke up and baked blueberry-apple-oatmeal muffins (recipe here). And then baked my first ever loaf of bread. I decided it was finally time to brave the final frontier of baking. I've certainly watched Dom do it enough times. Despite having forgotten the butter until the last minute and having a rather soupy mess when I added it to the dough, the final product turned out rather well, if I do say so myself.





The bread recipe is here, I just substituted whole wheat flour for about half of the bread flour.

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S Is for Saints

by Megan Dunsmore illustrations by Lawrence Klimecki. (More of Klimecki's art is available online here.)

I picked up this little gem of a book last Saturday at the Proud to Be Catholic concert. It's a traditional alphabet picture book. i love alphabet books and am always on the lookout for well-done religious books.


The title is actually a little misleading. Some of the people included are not canonized saints but rather blessed or venerable (5 blessed, 2 venerables). One, Dorothy of Montau, is neither a saint nor blessed or venerable. That puzzled me a bit as there are certainly female saints whose names begin with D-- perhaps she was included because, as the appendix indicates, she's the patron of Prussia? Otherwise, the choices make sense and most of the names were familiar to me. I especially liked the inclusion of Blessed Isabel of France as she is one of my Bella's patrons. One nice touch is that there are two saints for each letter, one male and one female. So A is St Anthony of Padua and St Angela Merici, B is St Brendan and St Bernadette Soubirous, etc.

The artwork was what really caught my eye. It's a modern interpretation of traditional iconography and reminds me of some of the artwork Matthew Alderman of the Shrine of the Holy Whapping has posted on that blog from time to time. I'm not terribly fond of the image of St Teresa of Avila who I think has a sly look (though I do like the pierced heart she carries) or of the too-skinny St. Thomas Aquinas who hardly fits the sobriquet "Dumb Ox".

Each saint is given a very brief bio, two or three sentences long. It's not enough on its own; but it's a nice introduction or supplement to accompany other saints books. There are two nice appendices in the back of the book: one a list of patron saints (St Luke the patron of artists, St Monica the patron of mothers, etc.) the other a list of patron saints of countries (eg. St Rose of Lima the patron of North America). There is also a nice list of books suggested for further reading.

Maybe I'm too picky after years of teaching writing, but I had a couple of quibbles about the book's introduction in which the author explained what makes a saint and the process of canonization. I thought weak writing resulted in a watered down explanation-- specifically some weak language and poor stylistic choices: "If someone was so good and so holy that he or she was special, the church may decide that this person was a saint." They were so good that they were special? Ugh. Maybe it's just me but the word "special" makes me cringe. Why not just say that they were so good that we are sure they are in heaven? I don't think that is over the heads of children. Likewise a series of rhetorical questions seems to obscure rather than illuminate the process of the examination of the saint's life "'What did they do and say and write while alive? Were they so good, so brave, and so holy that they were a hero in some ways? Was the person responsible for miracles, either during his or her life or afterwards?" Why are these phrased as questions? What exactly is the right answer? I can guess; but it would be simpler if the text just stated what the examiners look for.

All in all, however, this book is a great addition to our library.

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Critter Invasion

We've had the fruit fly swarms of doom circling in our kitchen with a few scouts discovered in the bathroom and living areas.

And the giant ants that have appeared periodically since spring and just when I get geared up to do battle they seem to disappear and so I don't buy the ant traps at the store.

And then tonight I found mouse droppings in the cabinet where we keep the beans and rice and all the plastic food storage containers. Ick, ick, and double ick!!! They'd chewed a hole in a bag of sushi rice and there were some scattered black beans. Everything else seemed fine but I've pulled everything out of the cupboard until we can get some traps or an exterminator. Not much hope of plugging the hole as there is also a big gap between this and the next cabinet.

My stomach is still churning from the mouse mess. Thank God for husbands with strong intestinal fortitude.

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We Took to the Woods

I didn't have a good book lined up to bring with me on our visit to my mother- and sister-in laws' house in Maine. Everything my eyes rested on just seemed wrong for my current mood. I hate it when that happens. As visits to Maine generally involve a leisurely sprawl with lots of time lounging and reading, I knew I'd need something so I packed a couple of second-choice desperation books. Fortunately, my mother-in-law is a reader. I browsed her book shelves and didn't have too much trouble finding something more appealing than the back-up-plan books I'd brought.

We Took to the Woods, a memoir of life in remote back-country Maine in the late 1930s, by Louise Dickinson Rich was a perfect fit. Just about the only thing my sister-in-law's house has in common with Dickinson's is that they are both in Maine; but the book still felt just right. This house has electricity, running water, cable television, high-speed internet access (finally!) and even a swimming pool. Louise Rich's "cabin" in the woods has none of those things. And yet this house is also on a wooded slope on a dead-end road. Through the trees I can sort of make out the the three nearest neighbors but behind the house is a wooded hill and from the back yard you can imagine you are in a wilderness. And from my cozy vantage on the screened-in front porch I can only see the road and the shape of the house across the street. Because it's early evening there's been a bit more traffic on the road as people return from work; but I think I've seen a total of six cars all afternoon. I hear the wind in the trees, the buzz of cicadas and chirping of crickets and a distant hum of a mower somewhere. But no sound of traffic as is a constant white noise at our house. The windchimes play quietly, soothingly in the breeze from the oscillating fan. A space to breathe, think, listen, write without wondering who will cry next or when. And no dinner to plan or to cook or dishes to do. Ah bliss!

Anyway, back to Louise... that's another sort of vacation. The allure of the book is partly the local color, the pleasure of visiting another place and another time and all the little details that sometimes made this book feel a little like a blog: details about clothing and shopping lists, the skunk they adopted, the dog sled team that wasn't, loggers and lost hunters, blizzards and what it's like to be in the woods for years on end. But most of all the pleasure of any memoir: getting to know another person. After reading We Took to the Woods I'm eager to find more of Rich's books.

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Doctor Mom

Tonight Bella was playing on the back deck while Dom grilled up some hot dogs for dinner. I was in the basement doing laundry when I heard her scream. Dom picked her up and was soon yelling for my assistance as she had a huge splinter in her foot.

The piece Dom pulled out was about two inches long. We couldn't tell whether there was a piece left in her foot. I cleaned the wound with hydrogen peroxide and slathered on some antibiotic ointment and then applied a magical bandaid. Then I hugged her to my chest and rocked her around the kitchen while I sang.

That worked to calm her down for as long as I kept it up. But soon Sophie started yelling for attention too. I picked Sophie up and Bella resumed howling. Dom's picking her up didn't soothe. So he deposited her on our bed while I changed Sophia and then Sophie and I joined Bella for a little cuddling. Soon Bella was flopping on our pillows, pretending to sleep, and rolling around with her sister. Then she found a rattle and clonked Sophia on the forehead, leaving a small welt over her eye.
That resulted in more hysterics from both girls. But finally Bella was soothed-- Dom brought her a pair of socks which evidently had magical properties.

Still, at bathtime Bella was screaming again. She was still favoring the wounded foot. Actually she was favoring both feet. I guess the non-injured limb developed sympathy pains. A post-bath checkup convinced me there was still a chunk of wood buried in her foot. I would have to operate. So Dom held her, still wrapped in her towel, while I applied a safety pin, the only tool I could find. The splinter disintegrated as I dug it out so the operation took some time to complete.

Then more cuddling and singing and I had to be the one to put her pajamas on. Dom took over the hair and tooth brushing. Socks of course had to be put on again. She has a thing about needing socks for bed even in the summertime. Hopefully she'll feel better tomorrow. Though experience tells me she'll be demanding a bandaid for days. I just hope I got all the fragments out. I dread having to do that again.

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Prayer Request Update

Thank you to everyone who has said a prayer for my sister's friend, Fred.

Fred died at 3:15 this afternoon, at the hour of mercy. Please continue to pray for the repose of his soul and the consolation of his bereft friends and family.

Kyrie eleison, Christe eleison, Kyrie eleison.
Pie Jesu Domine, dona eis requiem; et lux perpetua luceat eis.

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A Vacation in Maine

We spent the first part of the week visiting my mother- and sister-in-law in Maine. We drove up Monday morning.... well, it took us a while to get out of the house, more like Monday afternoon. it was rainy and chilly when we got there. Bella was disappointed because she really wanted to get in the pool right away.

Fortunately for her the next day was much nicer.


Bella afloat

The house is on a dead-end street and surrounded by trees. It feels like a cabin in the woods. You can sort of make out two houses across the street and one on the left; but for the most part it feels like you are in the wilderness. Behind the house is a stretch of wild, wooded area where they sometimes see deer and wild turkeys.

Bella discovered a little Bella-sized rocking chair and immediately claimed it as her own. "I'm putting my feet on the fender!" she exclaimed. (Just like the toad Mr. Jackson who sits in a rocker in The Tale of Mrs. Tittlemouse.) I moved the chair over to the wood stove so she really could put her feet up.


"feet on the fender"


Off the back porch we spied a robin who had built a nest on the floodlight. Little chicks were poking their heads up while mama robin brought food. I also snapped a photo of a hummingbird.


hummingbird

I tried to point out the hummingbird to Bella but I don't think she was able to see it.



a mother robin brings a treat for her hungry chicks


Wednesday afternoon Dom and his mother took both girls when they went to get lobsters for dinner. I had a quiet hour to myself, sitting on the screened-in porch, listening to the wind in the trees. What a treat!

I even spotted my first ever shooting star on Monday night when I was up with Sophia who was having trouble sleeping.

It was nice to have a change of scenery and great that Bella and Sophie got to spend some time with their grandmother. I know Bella was a bit disappointed there were no cousins, but I think the lack of other children also meant she didn't get lost in the crowd. She delighted Grandma with her ability to recite nursery rhymes and showed off her chatterbox tendencies which few outsiders get to see.

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Being Bella

"I'm a bee," Bella announced the other day, "Bizz wizz wizz." (That's the noise the bees make in Beatrix Potter's Tale of Mrs. Tittlemouse.)

"Roar, roar!" she growled this morning as I was reading her a book, "I'm a 'ion."


Meanwhile, Sophia has learned to blow raspberries and entertained herself by doing so throughout this morning's mass.

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Please Say a Prayer Now

My sister's friend Fred is deteriorating rapidly. They have done scan after scan of his brain, it keeps getting worse. It is clear his body is shutting down. They've pumped food into his stomach and pumped it out again as nothing is being absorbed. There is nothing more they can do. They are going to remove him from the ventilators today. Please pray for Fred and for his family and friends.

Lord, have mercy on him and bring him into your kingdom. Pour your consolation on his family and friends in this hour of need. O Mary, Star of the Sea, pray for him that he may be finally guided to his eternal home with Jesus your Son and all the saints in heaven. St Maximilain Kolbe, pray for him. Lord have mercy.

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Happy Anniversary!

On this day three years ago I married my best friend. Words can't express how my life has changed. I treasure each and every day we have had and look forward to many, many, many more.

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100 Species Challenge: Da Rules

I have decided to throw my hat into the ring. Several bloggers I read Melissa Wiley, The Bookworm, and The Common Room, are all participating in the 100 Species Challenge.

I've sort of informally been interested in identifying our local flora and fauna for some time and have been taking pictures and posting them; but have only been half-hearted about identification. I haven't been going about it in any sort of systematic way and thus the project languishes for lack of structure. This seems like an ideal way to give it some shape, a specific goal to strive towards and a form of accountability to keep me from slacking off too badly (I hope!). Anyway, here are the rules from the originator, scsours over at xanga:

The Official Rules:

The 100-Species Challenge

1. Participants should include a copy of these rules and a link to this entry in their initial blog post about the challenge. I will make a sidebar list of anyone who notifies me that they are participating in the Challenge.

2. Participants should keep a list of all plant species they can name, either by common or scientific name, that are living within walking distance of the participant's home. The list should be numbered, and should appear in every blog entry about the challenge, or in a sidebar.

3. Participants are encouraged to give detailed information about the plants they can name in the first post in which that plant appears. My format will be as follows: the numbered list, with plants making their first appearance on the list in bold; each plant making its first appearance will then have a photograph taken by me, where possible, a list of information I already knew about the plant, and a list of information I learned subsequent to starting this challenge, and a list of information I'd like to know. (See below for an example.) This format is not obligatory, however, and participants can adapt this portion of the challenge to their needs and desires.

4. Participants are encouraged to make it possible for visitors to their blog to find easily all 100-Species-Challenge blog posts. This can be done either by tagging these posts, by ending every post on the challenge with a link to your previous post on the challenge, or by some method which surpasses my technological ability and creativity.

5. Participants may post pictures of plants they are unable to identify, or are unable to identify with precision. They should not include these plants in the numbered list until they are able to identify it with relative precision. Each participant shall determine the level of precision that is acceptable to her; however, being able to distinguish between plants that have different common names should be a bare minimum.

6. Different varieties of the same species shall not count as different entries (e.g., Celebrity Tomato and Roma Tomato should not be separate entries); however, different species which share a common name be separate if the participant is able to distinguish between them (e.g., camillia japonica and camillia sassanqua if the participant can distinguish the two--"camillia" if not).

7. Participants may take as long as they like to complete the challenge. You can make it as quick or as detailed a project as you like. I'm planning to blog a minimum of two plants per week, complete with pictures and descriptions as below, which could take me up to a year. But you can do it in whatever level of detail you like.

I'm going to "cheat" a little and start out with identifying and listing the photos I've already taken in the past year.

I can't do a sidebar list; but I'll label each post as "100 Species" so it will appear in the Categories list which is already in the sidebar. I'm going to bend rule #2 a little bit. I think I'll just keep one list, a sort of index, and link to it from every new entry. I think it will keep each blog entry neater and keep me saner if I don't repeat the information every time.

I'm not sure what level of detail I will strive for. Or if I'll be at all consistent. I know I'm not going to set a specific day to post or a weekly goal or anything that will likely discourage me if I fail to meet it. Just try to add to it when I remember to take the camera with me for a walk and as I have the time and energy to look up the information. After all this is a pursuit for just me myself and I-- though the girls will benefit from it down the road-- and I'm working against the kids not with them in that time I devote to this challenge, except for the outdoors looking at plants stuff, is time I'm not doing activities with them.

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Urgent Prayer Request (Updated)

Please say some prayers for my sister's friend and former co-worker, Fred. He was in a serious car accident over the weekend and is in the ICU on a ventilator. I believe he had to have brain surgery. He has a young son who I am sure is quite distressed. Keep him and Fred's parents in your prayers as well.

Update:

My sister says things are not looking up. A second brain scan shows more damage than they initially thought. He's not likely to make it. Lord, have mercy.

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Proud to Be Catholic

It began on Salem Common in the summer of 2000. A youth group gathered for Mass in a public space, having followed the Eucharist in procession from the parish church of the Immaculate Conception.

But for me it began in the summer of 2004 when I nervously accompanied my boyfriend, Domenic Bettinelli, to an event organized by his brother-in-law, Peter Campbell. I watched the children who would one day become my nieces and nephews hug each other and dance and laughing fall to the ground. Something special happened. I knew it was all going to work out somehow. A day filled with unexpected graces.

A year later the event was located for the first time at the Marist House in Framingham. On the eve of our wedding I was surprised to hear my name called out during Mass as one of the intentions read in the Prayers of the Faithful was for our marriage. My sister was there. Throughout the Mass I held the newborn baby who would shortly become my niece.

The next year I cradled my own three-month old daughter. The next year she was a toddler, running around joyfully and her sister was a new life in the womb, just announced and making me more than a bit nauseous. Now we return to Framingham for the fourth time. So many memories in these fields and buildings.

We arrive early, not many people there yet. A familiar face at the gate, a friend's mother, greeting us and oohing at Sophia and Bella. Yes, "homecoming" might not be overstating it.

We find the two canopies right beyond the entrance (so my mother-in-law recovering from knee surgery won't have too far to walk. Also helpful with all the babies and gear.) But the family isn't there yet. We set up camp chairs and port-a-crib and unload the little red wagon. Then head off across the field seeking my brother-in-law, Pete, whose brainchild this is. We don't find him, but Janice, a friend from church, is manning a table and I stop to chat. Like too many of our friends we haven't seen her in months, she exclaims over how Sophia has grown.

As we chat I hear the sound of singing: Ave, Ave, Ave Maria. Hushed voices approaching. Glancing over my shoulder I see a group of people moving across the field towards us, a priest in white, a shining monstrance. I drop to my knees and tell Isabella to do the same, "Kneel down on your knees," I whisper, "There's Jesus! See Jesus!" I make the sign of the cross and guide her hand and then Sophia's to do the same.

The procession comes to a halt in front of us. The priest raises the monstrance and the group begins to pray the rosary. "The Fourth Joyful Mystery: The Presentation in the Temple," I hear someone announce. The woman is too soft spoken, they are too far away, we cannot make out the beginning of each Hail Mary; but we join in with the group for the second half: Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death. Amen.

Sometime in the middle of the decade a guitar starts to warm up on the main stage. It should be jarring and incongruous but somehow isn't. It's all praise. On the fringes of my awareness people move about, setting up chairs, greeting friends, moving equipment. But in the center of the field is a small bubble of people kneeling and focused on the miraculous Presence of the Creator of the Universe in a small and unremarkable piece of bread.

We complete the decade, Oh My Jesus, forgive us our sins, save us from the power of hell, lead all souls to heaven, especially those in most need of thy mercy, and the procession moves on toward the Marian grotto where the Blessed Sacrament will remain on a small stone altar throughout the afternoon while the pilgrims come to adore Him.

We stand and turn toward the vendor tent. Smiling at acquaintances, meeting people I only have known through the blogs, browsing through children's books-- a couple of great finds I'll have to blog on later. Bella and Sophia attract attention, smiles, comments. Dealing with crowds is so much easier for me with a baby in a carrier or a toddler in my hand. An automatic conversation starter.

Dom meets some Franciscan brothers, greets one whom he recognizes, and introduces us. Brother Sean radiates the joy of the Holy Spirit as he flirts with Sophia and bends to chat with Bella. It's infectious, I feel a profound peace just looking at them. I love the little brothers of St. Francis. In their radical simplicity they are fools for Christ, what the Flower Children of the Sixties should have been, could have been had they been truly radical. This is the real deal, though, real love, real purpose: love of Christ.

When we return to the canopies to change diapers and eat lunch the family is arriving. A Portuguese band sings on stage: God is ten. An odd idiom-- I guess we'd say God is number one-- but I get the idea and the music is fun to dance to. I bounce Sophia as I eat my sandwich. I feed grapes and cheese to my niece Cecilia and to Isabella. Another group takes the stage and raps about John Paul II and though I'm not usually a fan of rap I dance Sophia's legs and she giggles. The girls run around, fall on the grass, hug each other. Bella has a bit of a jealous crying fit when Cecilia grabs her doll but it is soon smoothed over when we find Cecilia's doll and she graciously hands over Bella's beloved toy. Even though she is six months younger than Bella, she has three older siblings and infinitely more experience in sharing.

Dom and Bella join a group of cousins heading off the see the Donut Man. Sophia and I depart in the other direction to see my friend Wimsey, now living out of state but back for the weekend. I can't wait to see her again, let her meet Sophia. A joyful reunion, even though she's working the ticket booth and the conversation is interrupted by the constant flow of new arrivals. She tells me her nephew is just two days younger than Sophie.

I offer my services as a guide to a young girl who is clutching a stuffed donut. "I know where the Donut Man is. i can show you," I tell her, "My daughter is there watching." Her mother gratefully releases her to the charge of an older brother and sister and I guide them to their destination and then depart to hunt down more friends.

Tara is in her usual place organizing the priests and penitents in the are set aside for Confession. I give her a big hug and she gushes to see Sophia. "I'll be back," I say. The little voice of doubt is gnawing. I can't quite bring myself to sit in front of a priest just yet. And Sophia is rubbing her eyes sleepily. Instead, I find myself drawn to the tent where adoration is going on.

I walk through a crowd of kneeling people to a place near the front and sink to my knees, steadying Sophie. A barefoot man strums a guitar and sings quietly, Holy, Holy, Holy. A woman behind me prays a rosary, I hear the whisper of Hail Marys and catch a glimpse of beads. A great golden monstrance sits on a simple stone altar, gleaming in the sun. Above and to the right a statue of Mary stands and looks down from a stone wall. Below and to the left a statue of St. Bernadette kneels in prayer. People move in and out quietly.

Peace fills the grotto. Peace fills my heart. I slowly trace circles on Sophia's arm and leg and let her fist curl around my finger. Her eyes blink more and more slowly, her head nods as I sway softly in place. And then she is out. I sink back on my heels and bend to kiss her cheek, raise my eyes again to the Presence on the altar and sing softly along with the singer: I give myself to you, Lord. I give myself to you.

Soon three sisters in black and white move forward and begin to pray the Diving Mercy chaplet, singing in sweet voices: O Blood and Water, which gushed forth from the Heart of Jesus as a Fount of Mercy for us, we trust in you. Sophia sleeps soundly and I sing along: Eternal Father, I offer to you the Body and Blood, Soul and Divinity of Your dearly beloved Son, Our Lord Jesus Christ, in atonement for our sins and for the sins of the whole world.... For the sake of His sorrowful Passion, have mercy on us and on the whole world.... Holy God, Holy Mighty One, Holy Immortal One, have mercy upon us and on the whole world.

Sophie sleeps through the entire chaplet and the next few songs after that and then groggily lifts her head and rubs her eyes, my signal to leave. I head back to the line for confessions, longer now but I am ready. The priest recognizes me, though I can't quite place him. He begins with a little small talk about Sophia and then a blessing. After his absolution and final blessing, he asks after Isabella. I still can't remember who he is. Ah well. I give Tara another hug before we go. She's happy to see Sophia a bit more alert. I feel like a new woman, full of grace and peace.

Back to touch base with the family. I trade Dom Sophia for Isabella who accompanies me to get drinks, two Pepsis, and a snack, ice cream sandwiched between two chocolate chip cookies. I hand it over to her and she is surprised and refuses when I ask for a bite: You mean I have to share? But she overcomes her reluctance and I eat about half of it. Then I wipe her face to erase the evidence before we deliver his drink to Dom.

Tony Melendez is on stage, full of energy, and the crowd is warming up. Soon a conga line forms at the foot of the stage. I'm having to take hits from my inhaler, though. It's amazing to watch him clap with his feet, jumping up and down and rousing the audience to do the same. The Spirit is moving, joy in the faces of everyone I see. Yahweh, Yahweh, Yahweh, Yahweh. The afternoon goes by in a blur of conversations with friends and family, meetings and greetings, laughing children dancing and jumping and playing and running and throwing handfuls of grass into the air. Bella is in heaven surrounded by "Cousins!" and energized by the music.

When the older cousins depart for something or other and while Sophia is happily entertained on Grandma B's lap, I take Bella on a little journey and we stop to chat with the Sisters of Our Lady of Mercy. I love these beautiful sisters. I want Bella to meet them and I want to thank them and yet I am so shy it is hard to approach them. Bella gives me the perfect opening, though. I scoop her up in my arms and tell her to "Say hello to the sisters." I know she won't say a word, but the sisters beam anyway. I tell them that I have taught Bella to say, "Jesus I trust in you," when she sees a crucifix. One of the sisters gives her a holy card with the Divine Mercy image on it. I ask Bella if maybe she'll be a sister when she grows up and sister fingers her habit, "Do you like the way I am dressed?" she asks, "Like St. Faustina." I mention that we have a relic of St Faustina and we chat a little longer until I realize the sisters are trying to leave. We also stop and say hello to the Daughters of St Paul and look through some of their books. They have a great selection of books on St Paul for the Pauline Year, which sister pointed out to me. She was so filled with joy as she asked if I knew the Holy Father had declared this the Year of St. Paul. I felt bad that I couldn't buy any books from her but I'd already spent what I could afford at another table.

Before I know it the procession is forming for Mass. Over the heads of the crowd I see the plumed hats of the Knights of Columbus and then Cardinal Sean's golden miter and the great wooden hook of his crozier. I lift Bella up, "Look, Cardinal Sean." We sing, Christ be beside me, Christ be before me....

A small hiccup happens as I have to change diapers during the first reading, Bella lying down when she sees that Sophia is getting her diaper changed. And then Sophie gets cranky and needs to be fed. I move to a chair in the back where I won't be noticed and Sophie falls asleep during the Cardinal's homily. Which is a great homily: "Bidden or unbidden, invited or uninvited, God is always present." Dark clouds drift overhead but the sun breaks through just before the consecration. "Of course." Dom says.

There is something so centered about Mass with the Cardinal. Good meals can be had at many tables; but there is something about returning home to my parents house and having a meal at the table I grew up at. It's something like that. A feeling of homecoming, of rightness. He binds us together in a way that is different from-- but complementary to-- the feeling of Mass in Rome with the Pope. Cardinal Sean is not head of the universal Church; but still head. Head here of our local Church. Our shepherd who gathers us and defends us. I feel like a sheep in the safety of the sheepfold.

After communion I'm kneeling, cradling my now awake but still drowsy baby, when I notice a slight commotion in the communion line nearest me. A mother has just received and turns back to her daughter who stands before the priest. They were the last two people in that line. The little girl stands several feet back from the priest, her hands pressed to the sides of her face-- like Munch's painting of The Scream-- fearful. As I watch, I begin to suspect she has Down syndrome. She stand there, trembling, yearning. Her eyes pool with tears and her whole body seems filled with conflict. Afraid to approach and yet unable to turn away. Her mother beckons. The priest takes a hesitant step forward, hand outstretched in welcome, benediction. The girl jumps back like a nervous cat, startled, stumbling, afraid. And yet she stares so longingly. They remain in tension. The priest moves again, the girl tries to move and can't, tearful, fearful. Finally, the mother turns and begins to walk away and after another moment the priest lifts his hand, blesses her with the sign of the cross, and then also turns, reluctant but acknowledging the impasse. And the girl crumbles to the ground in abject anguish as her mother rushes to console her. Tears roll down my face and my heart yearns toward her, praying. She stumbles away, cradled in her mother's arms. Tears. Anguish. Raw.

Later Dom articulates what my heart understood but my mind couldn't quite grasp: In her you could see what we all should be at this moment-- the fear and awe of the presence of God that made it impossible for her to approach, the hunger that made it impossible for her to leave. She seemed to see, more clearly than any of us, Him Who is Present there.

During the final hymn she approached our family group and began to crawl down between the chairs, seeking a refuge. Her mother approached, apologetic. We brushed away her concern but words couldn't come that seemed suitable as I watched her hurry away. Later I saw the girl playing with her siblings, tossing a balloon, seemingly content. I'll never forget that look on her face as she stood there before Christ in the Eucharist, though.

After Mass, more music. High energy and getting higher as the sun sets and people began to pack up. I wander through the crowds with Bella, singing along. At one point I catch a woman's eye as she approaches, singing, "Come and go with me to my Father's house," we sing at each other and smile, sisters, though I don't know her name and we may never meet. A connection I can't explain. Joy in the Spirit. Recognition. Love.

The sun sets behind the trees, golden clouds mark its passage. I retire to my mother-in-law's camper to give Sophia a final snack while Dom packs and Bella romps. I leave a smiling, cooing, full Sophie with Grandma and step out into night. The energy of the evening still bristles like pent lightning; but now it is channeled, a river running swift and deep and silent: a priest places a shining monstrance on the altar and swings a censor. Clouds of smoke drift through the bright stage lights:

O Saving Victim opening wide
The gate of heaven to all below.
Our foes press on from every side;
Thine aid supply, Thy strength bestow.

To Thy great name be endless praise
Immortal Godhead, One in Three;
Oh, grant us endless length of days,
In our true native land with Thee.

I kneel for a while with Bella. O come, let us adore him. We look at the moon, surrounded by a glowing moon bow, the stars. I whisper a prayer of praise and thanksgiving in her ear. Then we gather the last of our things.

Bella, exhausted, bursts into tears when she sees Sophia in Grandma's arms. Afraid we are leaving her sister or her sister is leaving her? Something isn't right. An overtired girl, she should be in bed. I gather Sophia. One last round of diaper changes. A last few goodbyes. A final genuflection to the Presence still on the altar.

Bella clutches her doll and kangaroo, Sophia chews on her giraffe. We drive off into the joyful night. Within minutes Bella is sound asleep, her head tilted back and to the side, mouth open, sun hat settling over her eyes onto the bridge of her nose. Sophia follows soon afterward. Home, beds beckon.

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Slow Blogging

I had quite a head of steam going for a while there. I was quite surprised at the frequency and sheer volume of my posting.

It seems to have run its course. Now I just feel.... dry. I stare at the screen, thinking I should write something and just.... don't. I'm sure I'll find things to write about. But I think it will be a little slower. Dom's on vacation next week and so I'm going to focus on doing stuff with him and the girls. Maybe when that's over I'll have recharged my writing batteries. Or maybe not.

Oh and if you live in the MA area maybe I'll see you tomorrow at Proud 2B Catholic, a great Catholic family event organized by my brother-in-law that I really should have mentioned before now but kept forgetting. Drop me an email if you plan to be there. I love meeting people.

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Tolkien on the Eucharist

I think I've probably posted this before. But I think it can never be repeated too often. Usually it's the first paragraph which gets me, but I recalled it again this time because of the final paragraph about going to mass in circumstances that affront your taste.

"Out of the darkness of my life, so much frustrated, I put before you the one great thing to love on earth: the Blessed Sacrament... There you will find romance, glory, honour, fidelity, and the true way of all your loves on earth, and more than that: Death. By the divine paradox, that which ends life, and demands the surrender of all, and yet by the taste -or foretaste- of which alone can what you seek in your earthly relationships (love, faithfulness, joy) be maintained, or take on that complexion of reality, of eternal endurance, which every man's heart desires.

The only cure for sagging or fainting faith is Communion. Though always Itself, perfect and complete and inviolate, the Blessed Sacrament does not operate completely and once for all in any of us. Like the act of Faith it must be continuous and grow by exercise. Frequency is of the highest effect. Seven times a week is more nourishing than seven times at intervals.

Also I can recommend this as an exercise (alas! only too easy to find opportunity for): make your communion in circumstances that affront your taste. Choose a snuffling or gabbling priest or a proud and vulgar friar; and a church full of the usual bourgeois crowd, ill-behaved children - from those who yell to those products of Catholic schools who the moment the tabernacle is opened sit back and yawn - open necked and dirty youths, women in trousers and often with hair both unkempt and uncovered. Go to communion with them (and pray for them). It will be just the same (or better than that) as a mass said beautifully by a visibly holy man, and shared by a few devout and decorous people. It could not be worse than the mess of the feeding of the Five Thousand - after which our Lord propounded the feeding that was to come."

The Letters of J.R.R. Tolkien, Letter to his son.

via Theology of the Body

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Things I Love

Isabella standing on the back porch notices a seagull flying overhead. She gets so excited she's jumping up and down, climbing onto the railing, yelling, "SEAGULL!!!!!" at the top of her lungs.

Sophia, watching Isabella run up and down on the porch, belly laughs. There is nothing more joyful than a baby laughing and Sophia's laugh is particularly infectious.

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Toddlers and Bag Ladies

This morning Bella decided her feet were cold (Ah, summer in New England! Please don't hate me, friends in the south.) So she fetched a pair of black socks for me to put on her feet-- sometimes she can put her socks on herself but not today. After the black socks we had to put on her white sneakers. With the purple shorts, pink and white shirt, and magenta sun hat she was quite the sight. Especially when we went out on errands and she insisted that she had to bring her new Winnie-the-Pooh lunch bag as well as her dolly and Kanga.

As she followed me into the post office, drawing delighted stares from passers-by, I remembered something Dom said at dinner the other night when she'd orchestrated some outlandish costume or other: toddlers and bag ladies have a lot in common.

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ROFL

(I'm still a little excited about the new camera . . . and Sophie's new-found mobility.)


Sophie makes a break for the front door.
Bella wants the same attention Sophie is getting and so gets down on the floor and starts rolling too.


"Don't kick your sister!"


They're having so much fun, I'll be tempted to join them next.






She looks much too tiny and vulnerable to be wandering about like this. I'm not ready.



More Sophia Rolling from Domenico Bettinelli on Vimeo.

Yes, I love my children all the time; but this is definitely one of my favorite ages: happy, rolling, laughing, toe-sucking, leg-kicking, arm-waving, full of joy.

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My Idea of Heaven

What's been going through my head this morning.

I love this video.

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Another Year Older

So Saturday was my birthday. I'm odd about birthdays. I like to have people remember them but I always feel awkward about saying anything. As if mentioning my birthday will seem like I'm dropping hints. So I tend to be quiet and go into hiding.

It was a quiet day but very nice. I spiced up my usual oatmeal breakfast by adding a little cinnamon and apple in addition to my usual frozen blueberries. (I know, living on the wild side!) We went to the farmer's market in the morning and Dom spontaneously bought me a beautiful bouquet of flowers. For lunch I made a lovely tomato and basil salad on fresh bread. And a bit of goat cheese also on the bread. After lunch while the girls were both napping at the same time, Dom went and got me a hot fudge sundae. Decadent. And he gave me a few books off my amazon wish list... he knows me so well.

Dinner was at our favorite sushi place. Where they don't mind babies. We got a quiet table in the sushi bar near the door where there were no other patrons to be bothered by toddler antics and baby squeals. Perfect.

Phone calls from my family. Including my sister who was so caught up in the drama of moving that she forgot what day it was. But then again I have a sister who calls just to talk and doesn't need the excuse of a birthday. How wonderful is that.

I hope my next trip around the sun brings me as much joy as the last one has.


They have the best miso soup. I'm in heaven.


Bella investigates her sushi.


Hmm... not bad.


Dom feeds Bella a little of my tuna. Raw fish isn't so bad.


Sophie amuses herself with my soup spoon.






Mmmm... sushi!

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Is This a Maggot I See Before Me?

Three years ago, when I was pregnant with Bella and experiencing severe morning sickness, we picked up some broccoli from the farmer's market. I was having an aversion to greens at the time anyway, even to my favorite broccoli; but I was determined to try to choke it down. That determination was blown to smithereens right after I took my first bite. Dom told me in a super calm voice to stop eating and look away. He'd found some worms in the broccoli. Ick.

I've since resumed eating broccoli; but have not been able to face getting broccoli from the farmer's market. But we do get a wide variety of other fruits and vegetables. Today's haul included a beautiful bunch of chard, some water spinach, peaches, blueberries, and zucchini. This afternoon I was preparing a peach and some blueberries for Bella when I spied a clump of little yellow grublike shapes on the counter, each about the size of a grain of rice. Super ick.

I called for Dom, as it is his job to take care of all creepy-crawlies that find their way into our house: "Are those what I think they are?"

Fortunately, no. He later reported that they were not worms, grubs, or maggots. Merely dried and crusty grains of yellow-stained rice fallen on the counter from the leftover Indian curry Dom ate for dinner last night. Phew!

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