I am surrounded by summer green even in the house. : )

 Look what I found at the flea market this week! A very nice on-canvas reproduction of Van Gogh's Café Terrace at Night for five dollars! I love it--it's my favorite find this season.

I re-upholstered my old desk chair last weekend with a puppies print. Do you see the pugs? 

 

I also recently re-purposed the old glass-fronted bookcase in my dining room to display my head vase collection (all flea market finds!) and a few of the pieces from my tea set, too. The bottom shelves hold my nature treasures: shells, feathers, fossils, a butterfly wing, &c.

 

This is Mustead Wood aka Baby Groot.--my other Mother's Day English rose. Someone was eating all of his new leaves for a while, and I really worried he wouldn't make it. Then we rigged up a little wire fence to put around him. Now he's thriving, but he's very small. I hope he still has enough time to grow. The color of his first blossoms is not as deep as I expected, but hopefully it will change as the plant matures. Also, it's quite hot out which definitely impacts rose color. The blossoms of my pale pink "Falling in Love" hybrid tea are nearly white. 

A great book and delicious lunch. I just finished reading Station Eleven yesterday. I know some of you have read this book, too, and I would love to know your thoughts about it. The story is set in a dystopian future a few years after the collapse of civilization. It is a book about memory and loss and art and connection--what it is that makes us human. A couple of years ago I read Laurus by Russian author Eugene Vodolazkin. That book was set in an indeterminate time period which, I realized as I was reading Station Eleven, might have been the future, although it had a distinctly medieval quality to it.  Vodolazkin wrote Laurus to show what is absent from our modern lives that was essential before: a wholeness in human experience with no separation between natural and supernatural awareness. This contrasts sharply with Station Eleven which removes the trappings of modern civilization to show us the meaning the civilized world imbues to our lives. It portrays religion as dangerous incoherency adhered to by the coercive, the weak, the deranged, and the deadly. Station Eleven speaks eloquently about the bonds people form with other people, with objects, with place, with animals, and with time.  (Interestingly, the word 'religion' is from the Latin 'religio', meaning:  obligation, bond, reverence; and 'religare' meaning "to bind".)  The book has given me a lot to ponder, and I don't think I will easily forget it. I have already recommended it to a few people. But, if I had to choose between re-reading Laurus or Station Eleven, I would pick Laurus.

The new study is becoming everyone's favorite room. Someone is always on the daybed. :)

 It doesn't hurt that it is the coolest room in the house.

This iced ruby rose tea is my summertime favorite: spearmint, lemon balm, hibiscus flowers, dried orange, rose petals, and clove. Mmmmmm.

I love roses best, but really, geraniums are star bloomers, aren't they? I just love them. 

-------------♥-------------

Have you seen this? What a joke! Every number in that budget is below reality except the net income, which is more than it should be (they didn't account for state income taxes, and I'm not certain that they deducted Social Security and Medicare either). The other evening the kids and I watched 12 Angry Men--the old 1957 classic film starring Henry Fonda. (It was amazing how much it mirrored my own experience as a juror!) There was a line in it  that really got to me. One of the characters--a salesman played by Jack Warden-- brags to Henry Fonda that he made $27,000 last year selling marmalade. "Not too bad for marmalade," he said.  I should say not, considering that was a fortune sixty years ago. Today, however, it is a pittance. My daughter earns nearly double the federal hourly minimum wage and works 35+ hours a week, and yet she did not make that much last year. When I think of all of the problems that affect society, including race and gender inequality, I can see that much of it comes down to economics. In the mid-nineteenth century Irish were considered scum in this country. They lived in slums and were widely discriminated against. The same was true for Italian, Polish, German, and Jewish immigrants, as well. These groups are now privileged "white people". That's the power of money. Racisim is real, but the deep root of the problem is not primarily skin color, it's poverty. We hate the poor. Even if we donate to the local food bank and give clothes and money to organizations that help, we don't see poor people as "good as us". We don't live near them, and we don't make friends with them. 

Presley had a birthday yesterday--he's three! And still acts like a puppy. The girls and I think Presley is actually a prince who was bewitched and trapped in a dog suit. He has such soulful, knowing eyes. We are sure he understands everything we say. ♥

It has been months since I last posted--an update is certainly long overdue. : ) I really didn't mean to disappear for so long!

Summer is here now. Everything is in bloom and reaching up to the sun.

This is one of the new English roses I received for Mother's Day this year. Her name is Gertrude Jekyll. She struggled a bit at first, and I worried about her, but now she's putting out lots of new growth and just finished her second flush of deep pink blossoms.

I've had a few dogs in my life, and I have loved them all, but this pug, my Elvis, is the sweetest, funniest boy. He is my shadow, always beside me. Just look at that face--I can't take it!!!

This moment, when the sky is all lit up with delight from the day, is my favorite. Just then, there is an opening and an exchange between Everything, if you know what I mean. And under the trees are so many rabbits that you would be frightened if you have ever read Stefan Spjut's novel The Shapeshifters.

In the last week, my son sold his 225 gallon aquarium and I turned the front room into a cozy study--a little dream of mine for several years. Here is the room 'before' (the tank used to be against the brown wall). 

And, here is the room 'after':

I'm quite pleased with how it turned out.. :) We found the rug at the flea market for $40. The daybed was less than $90.00 at Walmart (we already had a hardly-used mattress on-hand in my daughter's trundle bed). The little table and the desk chair were flea market finds for $10 each, and the bookcase is from IKEA. The piano got to stay where it was, and my antique desk got a nice new corner nook (I love it there--who knows, maybe it will motivate me to write).

Elvis thinks it's a good change. :)

 

The garden is like a little jungle just now. Peas and raspberries are ripe for the picking.

These two girls are six years old and still laying eggs every day! 

Things are changing in the world. There is a loudness which has made me and others quiet. You can see it in the mass exodus from personal webpages to instagram. Some people have shifted to sharing more often yet less. Connecting through conversation--sharing thoughts, ideas, words--is now blasé. If social media was superficial before, what is it becoming now? 

I understand that for a lot of people (most people?) the internet has expanded the world, but for a person like me, an introvert who values deep relationships, the internet has reduced my universe to a hermit's cell. I have relatives who won't communicate with me because they prefer to text, and I don't own a cell phone. I have friends who no longer keep in touch with me because they prefer facebook, and I don't have a facebook account. I could get these things, I suppose, like I got an instagram account, but I know I would never use them, just like I don't use instagram. The thing is, I don't want to be anyone's fan. I want to be their friend. ♥

The March moon is called the Worm Moon, but last night it was butter yellow and caught in the branches of our tree. I wanted to climb up and fill my cup with buttermilk moonlight.

March is my least favorite month of the year. Have I mentioned this before? I'm sure I must have. Last week was spring and this week is winter, and that is the miserably unpredictable dynamic personality of March. This morning the temperature was 10°F/-12°C. Oh, and a n'oreaster is forecast for Tuesday: up to two feet of snow, biting winds, and coastal flooding. Won't that be exciting?

I felt poorly for most of the week, so I pulled out a knitting project (one I started last spring) and attempted to work on it while I was resting. It is the kind of pattern that requires a lot of concentration for each row. Frustrating, really. But, the finished project--a nap blanket with a lovely fern pattern--is so lovely; I am determined to finish it this year. Progress, however, is slow. I spend a lot of time ripping back and re-knitting.

On Thursday we went to Winchester center and I remembered my camera. Winchester has such pretty shops and store fronts. At the left corner of the beautiful brick building (second photo from the bottom) is Book Ends, my favorite bookstore. I received a giftcard for my birthday, so I bought The Vicar's Wife, by Katherine Swartz. It's just the kind of book I like, and I am really enjoying it. All winter I have struggled with being able to read, and I have sorely missed time spent with books.

Daughter no. two baked scrumptious s'mores bars this week AND some super yummy blueberry muffins. (Oddly, there are fresh blueberries at a good price available at the grocery store just now). Every recipe we have tried from Monique's site (Diva's Can Cook) has been outstanding.

This morning I went to church, and after Mass I barely made it to the car before I started sobbing. I think it was the music. It was sentimental and sad and depressing.  It affected me deeply and not in a positive or relgious way. I went for the Sacrament, but I got a lot of other stuff that I didn't want or need. It made me think about how individual churches shape people's experiences and thoughts about God. Hmm.

I want to tell you how very grateful I am that you have followed me to this new blog. I think I will always miss my old blog (the name of which I cannot mention because You-Know-Who might Google it and find me here). Thank you for taking the time to read my rambling thoughts and for leaving such warm, kind comments. It is my intention to reply to every one--although it may take me the whole week to do it.

Until next week. ♥

Two weeks into Advent and nineteen days 'til Christmas. I love the tradition of lighting candles for Advent. The first Advent candle is for hope and expectation. The second is for the coming peace. The third is for joy that the promise is almost fulfilled. The fourth is for the love that God has for mankind. 

Yesterday it snowed! It was just a dusting really, but it made everything sparkly and pretty. 

Presley watched the snow out the front window, and then contemplated the meaning of it all. Besides being a pugilist, he's also a philosopher. He is very fond of Christmas and extra treats.

Monday was a rare day--my oldest children all had it off from work, so we went to our favorite Christmas tree stand and played among the dark and spicy pines. Then, we fed the 'Christmas goats'. My favorite was the little blue eyed black one that had no horns.
 

Emmeline wore the hat I knit in fisherman's rib for her last year. Pink is her favorite color.

Inside the Christmas shop, it was warm and toasty and full of glittering wonders. We oohed and ahhed over miniature houses for the tiniest elves and needle felted Christmas mice dressed up in wee fair isle scarves.

In the greenhouse there were Christmas cacti 'trees', bright poinsettias, and a friendly bear who was giving out hugs.

 

Afterward, we had cups of cocoa and gingerbread. It was pretty wonderful. We really needed a happy day together after a month of too many doctors' appointments and problems and just overall gloom in the world. The news and internet have become so negative that I had to take a break from both for several weeks and remove myself from the clamoring voices.  

I need Advent more than ever this year: a season to reflect, repent, and prepare for the Lord's coming. 

♥ Mornings spent in quiet prayer: What fills my heart?  Have I loved God and neighbor with all of my heart, soul, and mind? Are the aims and intentions of my life informed by Sacred Scripture and Tradition or by the whims of the world? What false narratives have corrupted my mind and made my path crooked?

♥ Evenings spent praying St. Andrew's Novena (15x daily from the Feast of St. Andrew--November 30th--through Christmas Eve):

Hail and blessed be 

the hour and moment 

in which the Son of God was born

of the most pure Virgin Mary,

at midnight, in Bethlehem,

in piercing cold.

In that hour vouchsafe, O my God!

to hear my prayer and grant my desires

(mention your intentions here)

through the merits of 

Our Savior Jesus Christ,

and of His Blessed Mother.

Amen

♥ Days spent removed from the noise of the world as much as possible, creating a 'Christmas mood' in my home: an atmosphere of light, good will, comfort, and joy.

♥ Re-aligning my path to follow the True Light. 

~*~*~*~

According to National Review, sixty students and some faculty members recently marched across the campus of Providence College to the president’s office, demanding action against English professor Anthony Esolen for writing an article published in Crisis magazine about the 'totalitarian diversity cult' that has taken over the university (a private Roman Catholic institution in Rhode Island). This is important because there is a growing intolerance for Christians throughout the world, particularly towards Catholic Christians who are being silenced, harassed, ridiculed, and persecuted in record numbers.  Peter Viereck († 2006) American poet, political thinker, and historian once commented that "Catholic baiting is the anti-Semitism of the liberals." 

Michael Kirke has written another eye-opening article on Garvan Hill about what is behind the moral shift and deconstruction of western culture in "No Phantom Menace--the real thing." It's worth reading, even if you believe that Christianity is responsible for everything that is wrong with the world. Why? Because if you don't know all of the sides of an issue and haven't given it careful consideration, then your opinion is uninformed, and you really don't know. I wonder how many people took the time to research both sides of the Dakota Access Pipeline project/protest before taking a stand? I wonder why it is that many vegans are also pro choice?  I wonder why Artists for Love left out whites, men, and Christians (the most persecuted religious group in the world) from their list of who they are "standing with" when their mission is "to remind others that we are standing together, united in love and acceptance" ? Their list is: 

We Stand With You:

Indigenous people

Muslims

LQBTQ

Immigrants

Alter-abled

Women

the disenfranchised

Refugees

All people of color

Veterans

Survivors

And anyone feeling alone or scared

 

We all bleed red when we are cut. We all have the same needs for food, shelter, clean water and air, work, health care, education, and love. Why can't we stand with all people? I see no difference between the "left" and the "right"--both sides are dominated by hate and greed no matter how often the word love gets tossed around. 

The world needs Advent more than ever--a change of heart towards God and neighbor.

But, when the Son of Man comes, will he find faith upon the earth? (Luke 18:8)