About all that gobbledygook

(If you're not receiving these moodlings by e-mail, feel free to ignore all but the last paragraph of  this moodling!)

Those of you who receive these moodlings in your e-mail inbox because you signed up to "Get Simple Moodlings by E-mail" are subject to a fair bit of gobbledygook (yes, that's the incorrect technical term for strange computer language about error codes and IP address restrictions) whenever I try to put a video into my moodlings. This is what I'm talking about, right here:

I'm not someone who knows enough about computer coding to be able to figure out how to fix this problem and save you from all that gibberish, and I'm very sorry about that. All I can do is tell you this much: if you see this kind of strange language, it means that the videos in my e-mailed moodlings are not appearing so that you can see them.

That's why I've put a sort of cheeky comment below the e-mail heading: 

Here's my latest moodling in basic format.
To see it in all its glory , visit https://simplemoodlings.blogspot.com/.

The above link will take you to the page where the pretty colour version of Simple Moodlings and its videos should be visible, clickable, and viewable. I post this here because I don't want my friends to miss Farley's song in yesterday's moodling... or any other Monday Music or video that's worth some appreciation.

And one more thing -- thanks for reading, friends. I've been moodling online for 14 years already, and I appreciate hearing from you whenever feel like responding to something you see here. The odd little comment here and there is a good part of the reason I've been at this so long. You make my day!

Be well!

Monday Music Appreciation #40: Love Waits by Farley Magee

My heart broke on Friday afternoon when I received word that my musical and faith-filled friend, Farley, had died. He hadn't been feeling well of late, and missed our last two Sundays at Inner City Pastoral Ministry, where I liked to tease him about me being his favourite (well, only, perhaps) back up singer. No one expected this news, and we at ICPM are pretty heartbroken, though we know that Farley is with God, doing just fine, and still alive in our hearts.

I didn't know Farley very long, but what I knew of him, I loved. He was a gentle man with an ironic sense of humour, and a very talented guitarist. The day we met, I had brought my guitar because I was told I could help with the music at ICPM, but Farley's reception to that was a bit cool -- likely because I was an unknown quantity. I told him I'd just back him up and play what I could, and it worked out okay. By the end of the morning, he had warmed up and we had a good conversation -- I guess he realized that I had enough ability that I might make the music a little richer than it would have been otherwise.

It was five years later when I joined the ministry team at ICPM, right in the middle of Covid. It was a fall day, and Farley was sitting outside, playing his guitar to entertain the folks waiting in line for lunches, and I recognized a hymn he was playing and started to sing it. His head swiveled toward me, and he grinned, and from that Sunday on, he often played the tune to see if I'd catch it and sing along. It was like an unspoken communication between us.

But my favourite memory of Farley by far is a September day when we were waiting for an event we were both attending in St. Albert at the invitation of Pastor Quinn. We arrived a few hours before other folks were due, and I asked Farley if he'd like to go for a walk. It was a beautiful autumn afternoon, and we walked down the hill to the Sturgeon River and wandered its banks all the way to the St. Albert community garden, enjoying the warm sun, the scents of autumn, the lazy river, and good company. I learned a bit about Farley's life, his long time grief from losing his daughter to cancer when she was only 8, and I shared some of my own grief at that time. We became better friends that afternoon.

I will really, really miss Farley every Sunday morning. His was a talent that can't be replaced. He often started our Sunday mornings with "Here Comes the Sun," and segued into bluesy riffs on a theme sounding like Fred Penner's "The Cat Came Back" or Woodie Guthrie's "Alice's Restaurant." My friend, Linda, and I would dance, and people would smile. Farley's music lent a peaceful calm to many otherwise chaotic Sunday mornings. His "smudge music" was one of my favourite sounds. I only wish I had recorded it.

And this song, written by Farley, is another favourite. The first time he played it as a meditation for the Community of Emmanuel, the tears rolled down my face. It's such a beautiful expression of what Love does, what Love is. As Linda commented today, it pretty much summarizes Farley's theology and belief. I'm so grateful that he allowed me to record it. I asked him once, if his favourite artist could record his song so it became famous, who would that be? "I'll have to think about that," he said, but he never got back to me on that question.

I know I've posted the song in these moodlings twice already, but third time is the charm, or something.

I will always miss harmonizing with you, Farley, your philosophical commentaries on life and the goodness and omnipotence of God, and the twinkle in your eye when anyone made you laugh. 

Farley, musical brother, you were one in a million. Rest in peace, beloved friend.

Monday Music Appreciation #39: Rachmaninoff's Piano Concerto No. 3

I'm so delighted that the symphony season has started once again (I'm back to my dream job!), and I must say that the Edmonton Symphony Orchestra, Guest Conductor Jean-Marie Zeitouni, and 25-year-old Canadian pianist Jaeden Izik-Dzurko started the season with a triumphant rendition of the concerto you'll hear if you click on the video below. Jaeden was just incredible and deserved every one of his three (or was it four?) standing ovations on Friday night. Wow.

I'll never cease to be amazed by musicians. Sergei Rachmaninoff wrote this exceedingly technically challenging concerto in the summer of 1909, but didn't have enough time to practice it before taking it (on an ocean crossing -- I think Orville and Wilbur Wright were still working the bugs out of their aeroplane at that point) to New York for its premiere that November. No piano on the ship, so he practiced on a paper keyboard! Imagine!

And the young man below is just as accomplished -- Yunchan Lim from South Korea is just 20, and knows his way around a keyboard with his eyes closed, I'm sure. The beauty and complexity of this concerto has been singing with me all day as I process tomatoes and relive the magic of symphony and piano working together so beautifully (I especially love from about 35 minutes onward). I hope you enjoy this as much as I do.

Sunday Reflection: You're adorable

Today's reflection is brought to you by

Mark 10:13-16, 

and partly inspired by Pastor Quinn's sermon for the Community of Emmanuel 

in downtown Edmonton this morning.

They wanted to bring their little ones

for you to touch 

and hold 

and bless.

We don't know who they were

or why your disciples tried to send them away.

We do know that you were indignant, 

even angry, 

speaking sternly.

You welcomed those little ones, 

cuddled some,

laid your hands upon others,

and blessed them

and all their sweet, 

adorable innocence.

Just as Creator wants to do with all his children,

whether we are sweet,

adorable,

or innocent

or not.

(Though you reminded us those qualities

are the way into God's heart.)

The Good News is

that it doesn't matter who you are

what you do,

how you vote,

or how many mistakes you have made.

You're as adorable

in the eyes of God

as a little one is

in the eyes of a loving parent.

Thank you, 

Creator,

for sending Jesus

to remind us how fully and deeply

we are loved.

Help us to remember

that every person who crosses our path

is loved just as fully and deeply

by you.

Remind me not to judge,

but to love as you do.

You want to touch

and hold

and bless us all.

May we touch

and hold 

and bless each other

just as you would.

+Amen

This week my dad celebrated an important birthday. There are no words to express how much he means to me, and how much he has to do with my understanding of God as a loving parent.

Thanks, Dad. I love you so much! M

2024's last garden moodling

It was another good garden year in most respects. A heatwave in July meant I had hardly any broad beans because the blossoms dried out on the vines, my cabbages didn't manage to get anywhere, and the strawberries had a hard go of it because of some wood shaving mulch that must've had chemicals in it. But Mother Nature did well with the help of a lot of watering from our 4000 L rain tank and my daughter's vigilance when we were away looking after my father-in-law. 

So here's a little 4 minute video from mid-September, before Lee got busy dismantling things, and a few pictures of what's left this morning. It's supposed to freeze tonight, so my basement is full of ripening tomatoes and peppers, and I'll turn the kale into chips and soups very soon (I'm pretty sure they can stand a bit of frost.

Thanks to Creator for this garden space, and for the produce we enjoy from it.

Lee took apart the double-high raised box

next to the compost pile so that our leaf bin

could be closer to the compost, so a few meters 

of dirt are spread around in other boxes.

All that's left: cherry tomatoes, carrots, beets 

and a few potatoes still in the ground

And our new leaf bin next to the compost pile,

waiting for this year's leaves to fall...

We'll cover all the beds with leaves, and start fresh in 2025.

This is your garden moodler, signing off till then.

Further thoughts on National Truth and Reconciliation Day

After feeling so frustrated with my church on Sunday because there was no mention of National Truth and Reconciliation Day, I attended a special Truth and Reconciliation Day mass at Sacred Heart Church of the First Peoples with Lee on Monday morning. It was a beautiful service with singing that raised the roof at times, and I was very happy to be there.

But as the presider noted, Truth and Reconciliation Day should be more than a day -- it should be every day of the year. When I got home, I looked in my September missalette a second time to determine whether I had missed any prayers or mention of care for First Peoples in its pages, other than the somewhat offensive reference to Jean Brebeuf and Companions' response to the call for "missionaries to the Indians" -- in other words, the earliest attempts to colonize Indigenous people away from their own understanding of Creator toward Eurocentric thinking. That was the only mention of anything to do with Indigenous People in the entire September booklet.

So today I am writing a letter to the company who puts out the missalette, as well as to the Canadian Conference of Catholic Bishops. I want to remind them all that one morning's prayers in one church in my city is not an adequate effort toward Truth and Reconciliation from a church that was so much a part of Residential Schools and the resulting intergenerational trauma they left as a horrifying legacy of colonialism. We should be praying for and participating in the healing of these wounds on a regular basis. 

And to have an entire September missalette that doesn't acknowledge Truth and Reconcilation Day? That needs to be fixed!

Enough about my frustrations. I also want to share good writings about Truth and Reconciliation by some young folks who work for the Council of Canadians, a social-justice oriented organization here. They ask us to rethink our own ideas about important issues, and though that's never comfortable, it is essential if we really want the world to heal. Click the links below to read some excellent and thought-provoking stuff... and see what else you can learn in this Reconciliation week.

Every Child Matters, Not Just the Ones in Orange by Eagleclaw Thom

Truth, Reconciliation and the Violence that Never Stopped by Christina Kruszewski