SPRING BREAKS

It rained today in Connecticut. All day. A gentle rain that clung to the trees in heavy droplets. Tiny buds just barely bursting forth. The promise of leaf. The grass is greening. It is daylight at 6:30 when we get up in the morning. We have supper in this light of day. Our spirits lift. Spring!

And in the front yard the maple towers above with its own swelling red buds against the bleak gray sky. Soon they will burst forth, spilling onto the ground, staining porch and steps with their redness. Spring!

Indoors, however, things are really bleak. The Brugmansia that I brought in when the fall weather came on are not doing well. In fact they are doing badly. I won't even take pictures of straggly, leafless stems. They are constantly bug laden even though I frequently spray them with soap insecticide. Spring can't come soon enough for these guys. I just hope they survive.

The good news is that the brugmansia cuttings that I took in the fall are doing fairly well. At least they are green and growing. Of the fifteen, six have survived. Of the four cuttings that I brought back from Indiana, one has survived. I hope it makes it because I want to see that wonderful peach blossom and smell the intoxicating aroma. Spring is hope.

WAVY HAIR

On Gabriel anyway. Heretofore he has always had straight hair because I either took him to the groomer or shampooed him and blow dried him myself. But I decided that if shampoo wasn't good for me it probably is not good for him either. And he hates being groomed -- the wetting and the drying. So at least I am eliminating one half of the torture.

By eliminating the shampoo, I have eliminated half the wet time also. Just rinse with warm water, apply conditioner, another short rinse and then a towel dry for as long as he will allow -- which isn't long. He wants to be out and about shaking the wetness away, rubbing his head on the rug to dry it, and then he goes and sits on the back of the couch in the sunshine.

The snarls that he gets in his long tail hairs are not as bad now because I have been getting at them right away with more hair conditioner. He also gets snarls in the fine hair on his underside and he HATES when I pull on those but with the hair conditioner I can work them out with my fingertips.

It is amazing what one article in the news paper can do to change habits. I am speaking, of course, on the Devacurl article about curly hair and hair products that was in the paper over a week ago. I just took off on the ideas. I read many articles every morning on a variety of topics - gardening, cooking, home design, new products and new ways of doing things. This article is the first in a longa, longa time that left an impression and encouraged further study and action.

Well, this is my 100th blog posting. I hope it won't get more boring than this.

LEMONS

Okay, so this picture itself is pretty much of a lemon but I was in a rush this morning and hurriedly snapped it before taking it downstairs and tossing it into the compost on my way to work. Actually the lemon is left over from last evening's shower. The juice went into a cup with a little bit of hair conditioner and after thoroughly rinsing my hair under the warm shower water, I used this mixture as a scalp cleanser. Then I rubbed the open half of the lemon on my face as a cleanser. That felt so good that I just scrubbed myself all over with the lemon.

I've been reading again. In my past life, my then husband would jestingly threaten to take away my library card -- we had library cards then, no computers. Periodically, I would suddenly get an interest in some whacky thing and do multitudinous reading on the subject. I have became fairly knowledgeable on goat husbandry, solar heating, breadmaking (which I actually did), and lots of other stuff -- too much to list right now. I have now added 'Googling' to my resources.

The latest reading is curly/wavy hair. And I haven't really done all that much reading. I fell onto this subject through an article in our local newspaper about a hair stylist that specialized in cutting, styling, and teaching the care of curly hair. It mentioned a 'devacurl' demo. I Googled 'devacurl' and found that this was a hair product - plural, There was such a variety of hair products available that I was over my head in offerings.

At the library that same evening, I took out two books on curly hair. There is still something very special about books -- oops, that's another blog post. Anyway, the book Curly Girl by Lorrain Massey with Deborah Chiel is the one that makes sense to me. I do a lot of reading and research, throw out what makes no sense, is too expensive, or just doesn't fit my way of thinking or life style. Usually there isn't much left. I learn a lot through the process though.

So: nix on shampoo, blow dryers, hair spray. That all works for me. My hair had become stiff with hair spray, dry from shampoo and hair dryer and just plain blah. So week one into the new regime and there is actually a little body and a little wave, maybe even some half curls. Of course, my hair is very short and needs to grow out a bit and the top layer is too long for the lower layer so I have a bit of an adjustment period ahead. But, hey, why not?

PICTURES

I am going to have to start putting pictures on this blog. Many of the blogs that I read are made all the more interesting with pictures. The thing is that it is time consuming to download them from the camera, choose, sort, name, file and Blogger is awkward to maneuver text around pictures.

Sometimes as I am writing I think of a picture that would be perfect for the text. But then I don't run off to take the picture. Don't take the time. And possibly it is past the time for that particular picture anyway. I think I need to form some new habits. Like keeping my camera handy and just take pictures. DO IT, Barbara.

Does anyone have some helpful hints that would make this chore quicker and easier?

YOGURT

Frugal is a word that is sometimes applied to my spending habits. I like to think of myself as innovative. Novel. Prudent. Bill would sometimes like to say 'cheap' but I don't hardly allow that.

Anywhohow! I make my own yogurt. I have it for breakfast every day. I do the kind with the "unique probiotic strain of bifidobacteria" as found in Dannon's Activia. The website says it plays a role in my intestinal ecosystem. I didn't know my intestines had an ecosystem. I do know that yogurt is good for the digestive system. And I do know that it is expensive. And most yogurts contain a lot of stuff unnecessary for my health. When I make my own, I know what's in it. Almost. I haven't as yet just ordered some plain garbage free starter. I use one container of Light vanilla Activia to a half gallon of fat free milk. And the fat free milk is Hood's Simply Special, but I assume that any fat free milk will do.

I put a half gallon of milk on low heat and bring it to 170 degrees F. Then I take if off the heat and let it cool to 110. While the cooling process is happening, three quart mason jars are half filled with water and heated in the microwave for seven minutes on high. Then I dump this very warm water into a cooler that is just the size to hold the three mason jars.

When the milk mixture has almost reached 110, I stir in one cup of dry non fat milk granules, one third cup Splenda, and a dribble of vanilla extract. This combination works for me. A container of Activia yogurt is dumped into a two cup Pyrex measuring cup and some of the milk is poured in, stirred to mix and then poured back into the milk and stirred slowly, just enough to mix it all together. Distribute into the three mason jars, screw on the caps, place in the cooler -- which is now a 'warmer' -- and close.

Leave the warmer someplace where is will not be disturbed. I put it on a stuffed chair in the sitting room and cover it with a comforter. (My house is cold. 67 degrees.) Forget about it. Well, forget about it for several hours anyway. I have actually forgotten about it and finally retrieved it after thirteen hours. But it was still perfect. Six to eight hours is good. Then it goes into the frig.

When I have used the fourth of the Activia containers of yogurt, I save half a cup from the top of the third container of yogurt to be the 'starter' for the next batch. I think you can do this three or four times before it peters out. A batch of yogurt lasts me about ten days, maybe a little more. The process is time consuming only in the fact that you have to be around and watch the temperatures. There are a cazillion combinations of this process, I just put together what I had and what I could do. Works for me!

.

GOOD FRIDAY - CHALLENGING WORSHIP

Good Friday, the most somber day of the church year. It is all about death. It is all about what Jesus did for us. OR how the New Testament authors told the story of the fulfillment of Old Testament scripture. However we worship on this day, it is somber.

We enter a church stripped of all her refinement -- no candles, no fair linen everything taken away last evening by the Altar Guild. We pick up our service bulletins and take our seats quietly, barely nodding our greeting to others. We silently pray. We look over the service bulletin to check our responses. We await the entrance of the priest and choir who will enter in silence.

But WAIT! What is that I hear? Not the murmurings of the choir gathering, not whispered conversation from those seated behind. What is it? I hear 'Yes, Jesus.' I hear 'Hallelujah.' Those are the only words that I pick up but I hear the cadence and it is all well miked. It is the congregation that worships in the Undercroft beneath this worship space. They are NOT quiet worshipers. They want God to hear them. It is not the quiet way that we worship on this day. But it is their way.

At first I am annoyed. How am I possibly going to manage under these conditions? How dare my worship be compromised. But who are the interlopers here? They are worshipping at their regularly scheduled time. WE are the ones who are out of the norm. This is THEIR time. Well, really it is God's time. We worship in a way differently than they do. It is all the same God. Isn't it wonderful that we can all share this space and worship the same God albeit in a different manner.

I turn my attention to our own service. I have to concentrate. We pray part of Psalm 22 together. Together we can hear ourselves. The Passion is read. We hear it all. Clearly. Perhaps the congregation downstairs is having silent prayer. I don't know. I don't remember. During the sermon I have to watch Lois' mouth to be sure that I hear and understand the words. I have to concentrate. I am eventually able to let the downstairs service be a background for the sermon. It isn't easy but I manage. I hear the sermon. I understand the sermon. I get the message. We sing "Were You There When They Crucified My Lord?" We leave in silence. Was there really silence? I don't remember.

FOOT WASHING - WHO WOULDA THUNK

Our Maunday Thursday service began with a covered dish supper, candles on the table, real plates and flatware, tables set up in a large "U" shape set for thirty. There might have even been thirty of us there. The important thing is there were enough. Enough participants. Enough food. Enough spirit. Enough time for the enough people to greet one another and share a meal.

When the children became bored which, of course results in noise, Lois, our priest, softly rang her brass singing bowl with her little wooden mallet thingie. It is a soft sound -- but audible -- just. But the soft sound continues and the children finally catch it and begin to quiet down. The sound continues until they are silent. She calls them back to table to hear a story -- Raven Steals the Sun, Stars and Moon. We continued to eat. We listen to the story. The story is short. The children once again grow restless and then boisterous.

I grow uneasy with this distraction. This sound of disruption is annoying. They will soon be out of control running with abandon and squealing with the delight of their uninterrupted antics.

The calling of the bowl repeats and children are called back to hear the short reading before the foot washing begins. The foot washing ceremony is a very meaningful ritual for me. It not only instills in me, once again, how Jesus became servant, but allows me to be served and to be servant. It is ritual filled with holy love -- for the person being washed and the one doing the washing. It is a solemn ritual, done in a hushed atmosphere....

Add children. Add water.

Lois explains the procedure. The children immediately rip off their shoes and socks and gather around ready to 'participate.' Lois washes the feet. Lois dries. Lois washes more feet. Lois dries. Then she is tapped on the shoulder. The tapper wants to take a turn being the washer. AHAH! His sister is next in line to be washed. He wants to wash his younger sister. As the pessimistic observer, I can see water all over the place, tickling of feet, screams, and kicks. But Lois has him sit on the floor next to her and turns to the second chair where a washee awaits. She guides him through the washing and tells him how to dry. He listens and follows her instruction. Lois meanwhile washes the feet of the sister. The brother continues to wash feet of others. Slowly. Solemnly. With great attention and with great care.

I decide that I will have my feet washed. The sister is there to do it. "I'm tired," she says to me. "Too tired to wash my feet?" I ask. "Oh, no," she replies, "I can do it." And she does. It is not the slow and careful ritual that I have experienced in the past. But this child is serious about this washing. It is quick. Pour the water, swipe the towel. She has an observing helper who points out that she missed the water on the bottom of my feet. The bottoms of my feet are duly dried. I return to my place at table. Others have their feet washed. The young boy stands up from his last foot washing, stretches out his arms and says, "Any more customers?"

Foot washing is done. We move on to share communion. These children probably do not fully grasp what we have just experienced together. And that's okay. Next year when we gather for this same ritual, they will remember. They will be one year older. They will be in a different place spiritually. They will understand a little more. They may participate, they may not. But they will remember.

I will remember.

CASCADING CLUTTER

Once again there is just too much stuff. I don't even know if all of this stuff has a home. And if it doesn't have a home, should I make one or just toss? Now there is a dilemma. Probably why so much stuff is collecting -- no designated home. And yet with the clutter comes an inner sense of instability -- almost panic. Too much to do. Not enough time. Not enough space to do the work. My mind gets boggled and crowded and my sense of self gets confused and productivity comes at a price. And the price usually is cluttering up another sight with yet other stuff.

It gets just so deep and then action must be taken. Usually I know what is in the layers. Not exactly 'where' but at least 'what.' When I lose track of the 'whats' because they have been there for so long and the 'where' of what I do remember is history, then I must DO something. The call to action is brought on by a variety of things: a lost important something; lack of space even for list making; a torrential cascade that threatens to finally slip away to the floor when I try to get to my calender; molding citrus rinds; and most of all the sense of futility it instills in me.

So the day after the above picture was taken I vowed to clear the clutter. It took the better part of the day. I made sure that what I picked up found a place to live -- or was history into the round file. And while I was at it the places that I went with 'stuff' got a little attention also. But the primary goal was to clear down to the desktop. To have no clutter. To relieve my stress. To bring peace into my life.

And this is how it looked when I was finished. And I have been able to keep it this way for almost a week. I am having to relearn efficiency and organizational principles. Basics: take care of mail -- NOW; return items to proper place when finished; make new homes for new items or projects; don't even think I am going to come back to finish something, either finish it or put it away.

I am enjoying this. It is freeing. Spirit lifting. Opens a world of possibilities instead of 'have tos.' There is still more to come, of course. I am negotiating for a new desk and counter and places to have things at hand that I use often. Work in progress. Isn't that wonderful?

JESUS AND THE FIG TREE

This morning's reading always amazes me. I would just as soon have titled this piece Vindictive Jesus, or Spoiled Brat Jesus or any number of other heretical titles. But, really! What gives with this Jesus. His infantile hunger prompts him to put a curse on an innocent fig tree, just because the tree has not offered him an out of season fig to satisfy his immediate need. He has a temper tantrum. The fig tree withers and dies.

When questioned, Jesus came forth with the 'faith can move mountains' analogy. For me it would have been a better lesson if he had commanded the out of season fruit to spring forth for his satisfaction rather than condemn the tree to death. I abhor the thought that 'faith' can be used unjustly.

Scripture bewilders me and angers me.

THE SLOG IS OVER

Not to mean that Lent is over, but that we are now into Holy Week. The liturgy of Palm Sunday has been laid to rest for yet another year. The palms are still green and flexible and beautiful. The music still echoes in our minds. The Passion has been read -- Matthew this year. I was privileged to read the 'Evangelist' part. I love reading this part because it is the glue that holds it all together. The whole of the congregation participates. We live the story of the betrayal and the condemnation and the crucifixion. But it is only a 'taste' of the story. As the week goes on we will participate more fully in the events that lead to the cross.

And isn't it odd that when I was at the halfway mark of Lent, I thought it would never end. Now I am feeling as though it has sneaked up on me and I am ill prepared. Did I do all those things I wanted to do? Have I been prayerful? What about repentance, self-denial, fasting, reading, meditating? How am I measuring up? And who is doing the measuring anyway.

This is one of the lessons that I have to learn. NO ONE is watching me. NO ONE is keeping score. No one probably even cares. Whatever it is, whatever choices I make, it is between me and God. And it is for that relationship with God that I strive.

FOLLOWING JOHN TO LAMBETH

... or Jeffri as the case may be. I finally succombed and downloaded the Reading Plan that has been issued for daily contemplation leading up to the meeting of Anglican/Episcopal Bishops who are to attend their once a decade meeting at Lambeth in June. It has been interesting reading Jeffri's interpretations. He has been reading the Daily Bible Commentary Edited by Richard A. Burridge so we have yet another interpretation.

Lambeth is a ways off in time as well as distance and if you are interested it isn't too late to join in the reading of John and commentary by Jeffri.

CHANGE

There is this saying that goes "The more things change, the more things stay the same." I want someone to tell me how that is. Like give me an example. I'm not getting it. Change for me is a major event. Even if it is a change that I am expecting or planning, it is still major. Causing unsettledness and discomfort -- usually, not always. And that may be okay, but it still is a disruption to the rhythm of my life.

Many changes I can 'take in stride.' Don't you love all these little sayings that we use to describe things for ourselves. Stride. Well to take it in stride means that the rhythm does NOT change. In order for that to happen, requires a great deal of concentration. Read self discipline. Maybe even preplanning. And even though the obvious stride does not change does not mean that the inner stride follows suit. In order to appear that the change is accepted may mean an internal upheaval. Which, of course, will eventually throw one off stride. Oh, dear.

I have survived any number of life changes. Too many to enumerate. Most of them pretty ordinary. Still in all some of them pretty major for me. More changes are coming, of course. That's life. What is worrisome, however, is how I will experience the changes, and how I will handle the changes. OR will the changes handle me?

Grace Church is going to change. What we look like and what we are is going to be way different than what I now know it to be. This gives me feelings of expectation and apprehension. I don't know what the changes will be. There is nothing to prepare me for the newness that is coming. The expectation is that it is necessary for our survival and it will be good. The apprehension is that I do not see myself in the new. Will this old self fit in to the new fabric of Grace Church?

LENT SLOGS ALONG

Half way. We are half way to Easter. I like that better that half way from Ash Wednesday. Genesis moves along. Joseph bails out his family. Jacob prepares to die. It occurs to me having leafed through the Ecclesiastes' readings for Wednesday's class, that we pay much to little attention to the other books in the Bible. We are such a Gospel oriented people, that Proverbs and Ecclesiastes were certainly eye openers for me.

Proverbs had quite a lot to say about living. Day to day living. What to do, what and whom to avoid. How to conduct oneself in society. Likewise Ecclesiastes but mostly in trite sayings rather than admonitions. Perhaps if we were to pay more attention to these books, the Gospels would not be so difficult to live out. Given Proverbs and Ecclesiastes, the Gospels should be a piece of cake. But they're not because we haven't been given the rules and regulations about how to live life. It is like we are thrust into the middle of it all and expected to get it right off. Only, of course, we don't. Because we don't have the tools. So much of our learning is the explanation and interpretation of the Gospels. Maybe if we had a better background it wouldn't be so hard.

BUT, we are where we are and we know what we know. So, make the best of it. Work harder at understanding and living the Gospel. For me, that means lighten up. Relax. Don't be so intense. Let God do most of the work. Accept. Have a sense of humor. God must do a LOT of laughing at our awkwardnesses with life, we may as well do some of the laughing with God.