An update on Julia's garden... and the rest

I was having a lovely time sifting compost yesterday when thunder boomed overhead. I sighed, gathered up a few garden tools and put them away as the first raindrops spattered the garden paths. As I headed for the house, I saw six other garden jobs to do, but decided they could wait... and no sooner had I closed the door behind me when SPLOOSH! Down it came. Almost 2 cm (just under an inch). We seem to be having more than the usual rain all at once these days... every rainstorm.

What was funny was that earlier in the afternoon, I had called my girls out to water various thirsty looking plants. There was no rain in the forecast... and other parts of the city barely got wet while we had a deluge. But here I had put my girls to work for no good reason. Oh well, at least they weeded their vegetable boxes.

Julia's box is doing pretty well, though she planted her carrots more thinly than she intended, I think. A cut worm took out one of two tomato plants before we took him out, and one cucumber plant died. But that means there will be more room for the other two cucumbers, which will likely try a hostile takeover of the entire box.

And Suzanna's pumpkins are growing by the foot each night. Ever want to see something grow, day to day? The pumpkin is your plant. I don't think Jack threw down magic beans. They were pumpkin seeds! Suzanna's plants will probably try a hostile takeover of the ligularia/delphinium patch beside them, and half the lawn, too.

Here's a tour of the rest of the garden...

Lettuce and herbs...

potatoes and carrots...

A slow zucchini (I had to plant twice), chard and kale...

borage (to attract bees) and spaghetti squash climbing the trellis...

peas...

cukes...

leeks and onions...

beets...

TOMATOES...

peppers...

Saskatoon berries...

and strawberries (these have weird red flowers... an interesting hybrid, 

no doubt, but I like plain old white-flowered everbearing plants better, 

so maybe next year I'll get more of them and have a Canada themed

strawberry box in red and white).

Since we had such a good rain yesterday, you can bet I won't be bothering my girls to water today!

Guest Moodler: Sermon on the Taskmaster

Once again, my dearest friend is giving the sermon at her church this weekend. I always enjoy her sermons, and ask her permission to share them. Here, for your enjoyment once again, is my one and only guest moodler.

The Taskmaster

Cathy Coulter

July 7, 2013

A line from the Galatians passage of this morning reads, “When God decided to reveal God’s son to me…I did not go to anyone for advice.” In the reading from Luke, Jesus tells us, “Listen! I have given you authority.” (Luke 10: 19) God has given us the ability to know God directly, especially through Jesus.

When we’re young we need to be given spiritual training wheels. We need to be given ways to think about God, and when I was young; I was given a certain image of God that melded with my experiences in the world. A turning point in my spiritual journey and in my choosing to stay on a Christian path came in my thirties when my eyes were opened to a new way of imagining God. Today I want to read a story that I wrote at that time. So today, it’s story time. I call the story “The Taskmaster.”

It was early morning and the late spring sun was pouring around the edges of my cheap vinyl blind. I woke up but was desperate to go back to sleep. I rolled over and pressed my face more deeply into my pillow. But I knew it was too late as I heard a cough from the foot of the bed. It was not a polite cough. It was an irritated one. He’d been waiting for a while, it seemed.

I rolled over again as I knew I must. There he was, as he was most mornings. The Taskmaster. Standing at the end of the bed in his immaculate blue velvet doublet over peach satin pantaloons and pale yellow stockings. The white curls of his periwig danced slightly as he pulled out the scroll from under his arm, unrolled it and began to read the list of things I needed to do that day. The list was always longer than the time I had, as the Taskmaster always pointed out. By the time he was done, I was not only fully awake but my stomach was clenched. Finally, after I had heard too much to take  in, the Taskmaster rolled up his scroll, tucked it under his arm, straightened to attention with the slightest of bows and marched on out of the room. My head was spinning and I leapt out of bed to begin running around in activity. Maybe if I moved really fast I could get a lot of things done.

Sometimes the Taskmaster would be waiting for me as I left work. He’d be waiting in the back seat of my car. As subservient as he seemed in the getup of an aide to Queen Elizabeth the First, I was no queen. I knew who held the reigns despite appearances that the Taskmaster was there to serve me and my interests. Always, there would be that scroll. I hated that scroll. Written on it were the long lists of tasks which became blurrier near the bottom. I’d watch happily when a task would vanish from the top of the list after I’d completed it, only to watch in horror as two or three more emerged from the blurriness at the bottom. I’d always thought that a list was a tool for time management. Sometimes, it seemed more like an instrument of the devil. If that were so, what did that make the Taskmaster? But I needed him. How else would I stay productive, worthy, earn my right to exist?

* * * * * *

The Taskmaster first came after the session I’d had with God the Father. God the grumpy, intellectual bachelor Middle-School God the Father. I’d been called up to God’s office. I was about eleven.

            “Come in,” He barked when I knocked. Maybe I shouldn’t have knocked. Just gone in. I went in. I hesitated. Should I close the door?

            “Sit down,” He barked again, making me jump. I rushed to the chair in front of His desk.

            “The door,” He wailed. It was clear He already found me hopeless. I scurried back to close the door, then returned to the chair. I perched on the edge of the seat. I felt sick.

            “Have you studied your lessons?” He asked.

            “Yes, Lord,” I said. I’d studied and studied. So much was riding on this. More than anything, I wanted to get into the Lord’s favour, into His club.

            “Alright. We will soon begin. But first, let Us play a little game.”

            He smiled as He pulled out a piece of paper from a drawer and laid it on top of the desk. I could not read that smile. It did not feel reassuring.

            “Come closer,” He said. I inched my chair forward. On the paper were three rows of three dots.

            “This,” He said, “is a simple little game. All you have to do is join all the dots with this pencil.” He pulled a yellow pencil out of His sleeve with a flourish. “The only thing is, you can’t pass through a dot more than once. You can only use one line and you can only change the direction of the line three times.” He smiled again and handed me the pencil.

            I looked down at the dots and poised the pencil. I was worried. This kind of thing was not up my alley. I imagined drawing one line, then another but that would leave that dot free. How about this way? Or that way? My heart sank further. This kind of puzzle had always stumped me. I bowed my head and closed my eyes.

            “Dear Lord,” I said. “Thank you for showing me this game. I know you love me and want what is best for me. But Lord, I ask You to take this puzzle from me. If that is Your will, Lord, please take this puzzle away. I ask this in Jesus’ name, Amen.”

            I kept my eyes closed. I heard God sigh and - was that a little snort? I looked up again.

            “Alright,” he said, picking up the paper and slipping it back in the drawer. “Let’s get on with the test. Are you ready?”

            He pulled out a chess board and began setting up the pieces. The test was a chess game?  I knew how to move the chess pieces but I was a terrible chess player. I couldn’t think four steps in advance and anticipate the other player’s moves. I couldn’t employ any strategy at all. I was not logical enough. I was not smart enough. I was done for.

            Ten minutes later my king lay tipped over on the board. All but my rook and two pawns were captured. At least it had been a rapid humiliation. God was trying not to smile as He packed up the pieces and put away the board. He composed His features, and then frowned at me. He didn’t need to tell me. I knew I had failed. I felt overwhelmed with sadness. Now I’d never get in.

            “Well, what are We to do with you?” God said. I hung my head to hide the fat tears welling up in my eyes. “It seems you won’t be able to manage on your own with what you’ve got, will you?”

            I shook my head. One tear dropped into my lap.

            “Hmmm,” He said. The yellow pencil was still lying on the desk. He picked it up and began to tap-tap it.

            “We have decided that We will send you a Helper. Yes, that is what We will do for you. This Helper will show you the Way. For you do not know what to do. Wait for the Helper. He will come to you.”

            “Thank you, Lord,” I whispered.

            “Go,” He said.

            I got up and backed out of His office. It seemed that I had been saved, given a second chance. All I had to do was do what I was told. I could do that.       

* * * * * *

I first met God the Mother playing in a park with a bunch of women. The menopausal gray-haired feminist activist God the Mother. I didn’t know who she was at first. The women were playing Frisbee. One of them had invited me to come and hang out. I was thirty-three.

            “Hi,” they all called out in welcome as I crossed the lush green grass. The Frisbee went sailing over my head. They all laughed.

            “That’s Norma’s Frisbee Blessing,” said one and they all hooted and howled again. I ran to get the Frisbee and threw it back. It floated over the grass and was plucked out of the air by some nimble fingers.

            “Good one. Come and play.”

            We had fun and played for over an hour until it was time for the potluck picnic. It was an abundant feast. I was filling my plate with seconds when one of the women came up beside me to start into the cheesecake.

            “You’re Cathy, aren’t you?” she said, as she popped a large red strawberry into her mouth. I confirmed that I was.

            “I’m God,” she mumbled with her mouth full.

            “Oooh,” I said, impressed.

            “Did you make this cheesecake? It’s heavenly. I must get the recipe from you. How did you make this crust?”

            On the way home that night I felt happy and relaxed. I felt like I had made some new friends. They invited me to go out with them again. Godde said she would pop over for a visit and to get the cheesecake recipe. I hoped she would come soon.

* * * * * *

            One day, after  God the Mother and I had gotten to know each other, we were sitting on my front step trying to see who could come up with the most names for the colour blue when I said,

             “I’d like to get rid of the Taskmaster.”

             “Who’s the Taskmaster?” God asked.

            “He’s the One who helps me know what I need to do. But he’s really getting on my nerves. I’d like to be free of him. Completely.”

            “Maybe you could suggest he retire?”

            “I thought of that but I’m afraid he would want to come back as a consultant. Even that would be too much for me.”

            “I see,” God said.

            She leaned over to pet the cat who was rubbing up against her legs. “Who’s his boss?” she asked.

            “God the Father.”

            “Why don’t you talk to him?”

            “I haven’t talked to Him in a long time, “I said. “I’d feel pretty nervous about it.”

            “I saw him at a convention recently,” God said. She put her arm around me and gave me a sideways hug. “He’s mellowed quite a bit. I think it would be okay.”

            I leaned my head against her shoulder and sighed. I knew that it was the right thing to do but I was afraid. What if I turned into an eleven year old again and stumbled and stammered my way into an even bigger dilemma? What if God decided I needed even more guidance and sent a second Helper? Could I be strong enough to say what I really wanted? Or would I be turned into stone in His presence?

* * * * * *

            The door to his office looked just as imposing as before, except it seemed quite a bit smaller. I raised my left hand to knock and hesitated. I placed my right hand on the doorknob then knocked and opened the door at the same time. Sticking my head into the room I called out, “Hello, God.”

            There he was, bent over his desk, writing intently on the piles of papers in front of him. He raised his head and peered at me, frowning.

            “It’s…”

            “Yes,” I said.

            “Oh, hello,” God said.

            “Can I come in?”

            “Yes, come in.”

            I looked him over. He too seemed a bit smaller. I sat down in the chair.

            “What can I do for you?” he asked.

            “I’ve come to ask a favour of you…actually, to tell you something. I’m not going to need the services of the Task…I mean my helper anymore. I’ve come to tell you that I’d appreciate it if you took him away from me.” My heart was pounding and I felt a flush rising in my cheeks. I tried to look composed.

            “Oh, I see.” Then a long silence.

            “Will there be a problem with that?”

            God was frowning. “Well, it’s a bit irregular. Not exactly in the Rules. I must look it up.”

            He pulled open a drawer and hefted an enormous black book onto the desk. The word “Rules” was printed on the cover in gold capital letters. God began flipping through the pages. He found the page he was looking for and ran his finger down it as he scanned. He turned a page, and then he turned it back. He flipped to another section and ran his finger down several more pages. His frown deepened.

            “God,” I said.

            “Just wait,” he said. “There must be a rule here somewhere.”

            “God,” I repeated, “I know what to do.”

            God’s finger stopped mid-page and he looked up. “You know what to do?” he echoed.

            “I’ve been thinking. My helper likes to keep very busy. I think if you sent him to Siberia, he would be very happy.”

            “Well…” God began.

            “It’s the right thing to do,” I said. “Trust me.”

* * * * * *

            I never saw the Taskmaster again. Not that I didn’t miss him a little bit. Freedom can be quite overwhelming at times. Still, I sleep better than I ever have. And everything falls into place somehow.

            I asked God the Mother if I could invite God the Father to our next women’s barbeque. She said, “Sure, why not?” So I did. And he came. Looking quite spiffy. I think he was a little nervous. But God the Mother soon put him at ease. Near the end of the evening, I saw her put her hand on his knee as they were both laughing over something. I think they were flirting.

* * * * * *     

               

That’s the end of my story and it’s the beginning of my reflection for next week. I invite you through the week to think about your real, operative image of God. And for your consideration through the week, this question: How does our image of God reflect on how we live our lives? 

Thanks for the most interesting story, Cathy! And some things to consider... If any moodlings followers would like to post a comment, I'm sure she'd be happy to read it...

Stay tuned... I'll be sure to post Cathy's follow-up reflection in a week's time.

A letter to a long lost friend

My dear friend,

How are you? I really would love to know. It's been so long since we talked and laughed together. We got along quite well if you recall. I enjoyed your company, your humour, your friendship. But something went wrong somewhere, and a lot of water has flowed downriver since then.

When we were friends all those years ago, we were both very different people than we are now. Younger, of course. More foolish, certainly. Our lives and our levels of wisdom have changed. We can't go back and undo what was said and done, but I'd like to think that we could move beyond those things to a new form of friendship, better than the old.

Of course, I don't know what you are feeling. But I want to you to know that I am open, and willing, to pick up the pieces, and perhaps talk and laugh together another day... if you are willing and/or able.

This invitation stands, because all I can do is invite. I think of you often, and I wish you a happy birthday today.

Your friend, always,
Maria

***

My friend is a brilliant man who thinks deeply and speaks eloquently. He has a wide heart and a terrific sense of humour. We were close friends once, but now he is far away. I still miss him, but have no way to connect with him. Our friendship is an unfinished symphony from my point of view.

Today --- It seems that lapsed friendships are a universal theme -- I've been noticing that this post (now my most popular) is being viewed many times by people from all over the world. I'd love to know what brings you here, or hear a story about your long lost friend, if you don't mind leaving a comment below... thanks!

Maria K.

The bee's knees

Suzanna has always had a soft spot for injured or unwell animals... or creatures in danger. She's the one who came to me with a mouse held in her garden gloves, before Chloe, the neighbourhood cat, could catch it as it scampered from leaf pile to leaf pile on the road past our house. If a bird hits our window, Suzanna will put it into a little box and sit nearby until it regains its senses and flies away.

So I wasn't surprised when she called me to the back step the other day, and showed me a bee that wasn't moving very much. "How can I help him?" she asked.

I shook my head. I've been finding more dead bees than I like in our yard lately... done in by exhaustion? Pesticides? Colony collapse disorder? Genetically modified plants? Parasites? Our little pollinator friends have so many enemies... humans and our farming/gardening practices being the worst. I'm heartened by the fact that so many people are starting to realize the importance of bees (if you want to see what your produce department would look like without them, click here). The necessity of reducing pesticides and GMOs is becoming more and more obvious to Joe and Jane Public, but I fear that our actions to fix what's broken may not be enough to save our pollinators from extinction. Just yesterday I heard another report about the decimation of bee colonies in Ontario. I haven't the heart to look for Alberta apiary reports because I suspect I already know what my back yard is telling me.

The bee Suzanna showed me seemed to be on his last legs. Actually, he was missing one. I shrugged and said I didn't think there was much she could do, but she wouldn't give up. She went into the house, warmed a bit of honey, and drizzled it on the step beside him. I took a garden fork and gently pushed him to a droplet, and he began to eat, or at least we think that's what he was doing, his little proboscis sucking up the stickiness. I told my girl that though I didn't think it was enough to restore him to health, at least he'd die happy, with a full belly.

Suzanna kept vigil with him for quite some time, before I picked him up with a trowel and carried him to our lupins, where he clung tightly. When I went to check on him later, he was gone, and I couldn't find any fuzzy bee carcasses on the ground...

Though I have my doubts about his survival, I marvel at my girl and her compassion for all God's creatures. For the bees' sake, her sake, and the sake of all our kids, we need to do everything we can to protect our fuzzy little yellow and black friends. So put away your Raid, and get rid of your Black Flag. Our bees and our future generations are counting on us.

I think Suzanna is the bee's knees. As are our bees, our children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren...

Simple Suggestion #171... Live by the Hippocratic Oath

This idea was originally Simple Suggestion #5b, but lately I've been thinking that it deserves a better designation, not as a subset of another Simple Suggestion, but having a life of its own. Actually, it could be the heading for all the other Simple Suggestions found here, because if we all lived our lives doing as little harm and carried that even further by doing as much good as possible, there'd be no point in this blog. I could spend my days living more simply and writing more novels, ha.

When I wrote about the Hippocratic Oath back in May of 2011, we had just experienced a week with a strong, drying Spring wind that blew almost non-stop, and daily radio news about wildfires in Alberta -- most notably, one that destroyed almost half the town of Slave Lake, population 7,000. These days, we're experiencing abnormal weather patterns that caused severe flooding in Southern Alberta, my yard has already seen three hailstorms, and we've faced several severe storm watches and warnings, another one expected tonight.

In our developed world, we usually manage to cope with Global Climate Instability (I'll call it that because it's easier for people to recognize the sudden volatilities in our climate than it is to see long term climate change a la Al Gore and his graphs). The people of Calgary, High River, and Canmore are pulling together, pooling their considerable resources, and getting on with things. The Calgary Stampede organizers vow that the show will go on "come hell or high water." But there was a flood in India as it began flooding here, and close to a thousand people in Uttarakhand State died. In Alberta, we were so absorbed in the loss of homes and property, and our pride in our resilience and resourcefulness, we hardly noticed the disaster affecting our brothers and sisters in India, people who don't have the kind of resources we do to deal with disasters on a large scale.

It seems that our recent disaster has converted more people when it comes to climate change. We're starting to realize that our highly energy consumptive lives are heating up our planet and creating these incredible storms that cause major damage. Of course, we must light and heat our homes, transport things and people and cook our meals, but the problem is that we never think about the "hidden" energy it takes to run the factories that make the stuff that fills our lives, and the harm that a lot of our large companies and corporations do because no one calls them to account for their environmental impacts. We also don't give as much thought as we could to our personal conservation strategies. It's always easier to use throw-away paper plates instead of washing dishes when a large crowd comes to visit...

At a Social Justice institute some time ago, the keynote speaker, Dr. William Cavanaugh, mused about what the world might be like if corporations were forced to live by the Hippocratic Oath to do no harm to our planet. And my mind wandered off, thinking about the shape our Earth would be in if all governments and people had focused our energies not just on doing no harm, but on having a positive impact on our world. Unfortunately, harm is built into The System, no mistake about it. And too often we feel powerless to change The System.

Facing facts, neither the world's corporations nor its governments will ever take an oath to do no harm. But individuals can. And while we may not be able to do NO harm, if all of us, together, reduce the harm we do to the lowest common denominator, and call corporations and governments to account, that's a start, the best start we can make. It seems that enough of us raised our voices about the poor conditions faced by factory workers in Bangladesh that many corporations took notice. We can also raise our voices, write letters, and start online campaigns against other things that are messing with the well-being of our planet and its inhabitants. We have a lot more power than we think.

So, to improve the earth's well-being today, I am redoubling my efforts to do no harm. I also planted a few more green, living things that make oxygen, rode bikes with my daughter to her swimming lessons, washed some "disposable cups" from yesterday's Canada Day party for reuse, and gave air conditioning a miss (ha, we don't have it... but our basement is nice and cool, so I'll head down there in a few minutes). There are always ways to do less harm and more good. They might be less convenient, but what's convenience in the grander scheme of things?

P.S. Looking for more Simple Suggestions? Click here.

A little national pride on a Sunday

Four summers ago, our family took a train trip across our beautiful country, from Edmonton to Halifax, celebrating Canada Day in Ottawa, and seeing many of the sights of this video (we know them all except the polar bears). We live in a wonderful country, and every Canada Day since, we have a party to celebrate it.

Even if you're not in Canada, feel free to join me in singing a verse of Canada's national anthem, which holds a little prayer... God keep our land glorious and free...

Kudos to Isabel Leung for creating this video.

Simple Suggestion # 170... Plant a tree

I can't believe it's taken me this long to come to this Simple Suggestion! Especially given how much I love trees... When we planted this Russian Olive nine years ago, it was up to my waist. Now it's almost as high as our house, and watching it grow has been wonderful.

Two weekends ago, Edmonton held its first annual "Root for Trees" festival. People of all ages from all over the city gathered at Government House Park and, in spite of less than optimal weather, worked together to increase the size of our urban forest. There was music, food, face painting and a kids' Tree-athlon, and from all reports, everyone had a good time planting baby trees. Brilliant, I say. I wasn't able to attend this year, but I'm already planning on attending next year.

Planting a tree is one of those wonderful things that we can do to leave the world a better place than we found it -- and there are probably dozens of other good reasons for planting trees. Like:

1. Trees combat Global Climate Change. They absorb carbon dioxide while releasing oxygen back into the air.

2. Certain trees have the ability to remove other pollutants from our ecosystems, like ammonia and sulfur dioxide and a whole slew of others that I can't think of at the moment.

3. They can also prevent soil erosion.

4. Our environment benefits when trees shade our homes and streets, cutting our air conditioning needs.

5. Plant a tree, and you won't need to water your yard so often (though heaven knows, this year it's not a problem in Alberta -- for the moment).

6. When it comes to creating oases of shade for people and animals. you can't beat trees. UV rays don't burn kids in treed playgrounds, and the urban canopy is home for many birds, squirrels and other creatures.

7. Fruit trees don't take a lot of space, and provide food for us, birds, and wildlife.

8. Trees can beautify almost any setting, and they satisfy our need for nature in many ways, often without us realizing it.

I could go on and on, but I have a dog who would probably like a walk through our favourite treed park. So I'll leave you with a picture. Here's the oak tree that was planted 57 years ago by the original owners of our home. They also left us two pear trees, for which we are extremely grateful.

In my books, planting a tree is a sign of hope for our future, and a gift to generations to come. So see how many trees you can plant in your lifetime...

Looking for more Simple Suggestions? Click here.

Gardening like God does, Part IV

I love rainy days, though they're not the best for running around my yard taking pictures. I'm pretty wet at the moment... but I wanted to show you all the lovely things happening outside.

If you've been following my moodlings for a while, you'll know that I've moved from being a wanna-be tidy gardener with things planted in orderly rows and beds, to gardening like God does. In other words, I've turned too much of my yard into garden and I don't have enough time to whip it all into perfect organization... nor do I feel that neatness is necessary any more. What I have realized is that God doesn't plant things in tidy rows and beds, or grow perfect green rectangles of lawn without weeds, or worry about last year's left-over organic materials (read: natural mulch) strewn around plants and under bushes. She and He just lets the seeds fall where they may, and rejoices when they bloom. So that's what I'm doing, and I must admit that it makes me happier than worrying when something isn't planted in the right place. Since I was small, I was told to bloom where I'm planted, and I'm adopting the same principle for my garden.

Oh, I pull weeds, alright. I have TONS of little elm seeds, dandelions, and creeping charlies, plus I've noticed that clover, daisies, delphiniums and other things need to be pulled up all the time to make space for the stuff that wouldn't otherwise have a chance against the "I-can-grow-anywhere-anytime" bullies (though I must admit I'm having a change of heart about clover on my lawn -- it's green and kinda pretty, Shadow the puppy loves to roll in it, and it fixes nitrogen in the soil, so I think I'll let it stay put). Between maintaining our vegetable garden and weeding everywhere else too, I have plenty to keep me busy. So letting things grow where God plants them only makes sense (if they're not bully plants that want to take over the entire place) -- and I've never had happier bees or birds! They seem to love all the layers in the landscape, tall and short stuff mixed together in one glorious mess, where it's fun to hide and feed.

What makes me happiest is that my daughter has stopped saying, "Mom, don't you think we should clean up the yard?" In early spring, before everything grows, it's hard not to feel that way, except that I know there are plenty of plants under last year's detritus that will grow and hide the leaves and dead-looking stuff. And that dead-looking stuff is actually improving soil conditions by holding in moisture and feeding microorganisms that in turn, will feed the plants.

But what I love most of all are the surprises God gives me. This year, it's flame-like gaillardia, or blanket flowers, that have popped up in several places. The phlox that a friend gave me three years ago has finally decided to bloom. The rhubarb was looking sickly last year, but it's going gangbusters now, and there are purple headed chives and multi-coloured columbine all over the place. My lupins are all purple this year too (where did the pink ones go? or are they still planning to bloom?) and I've never had a lot of luck with growing echinacea, but one has appeared out of nowhere near some daisies. Best of all, there are lots of lilies, rudbeckia,  bergamot, nasturtiums, asters and poppies still to come.

Don't get me wrong -- I love gardens of all kinds, and am very impressed by neatly manicured yards and the huge amount of work that goes into keeping them so perfectly tidy. I have a few friends and relatives whose well-kept yards put mine to shame. But I'm also grateful that I have so many flowers to enjoy, growing right where they've reseeded themselves, right where God and the birds and the wind planted them.

Watery thoughts on a Sunday

There's been some excitement in Alberta for the last couple of days, and not the good kind. If you haven't heard about it where you live, people south of here are experiencing flooding due to some pretty heavy rainstorms... High River, Bragg Creek, and parts of Calgary are under water. And some of that water is moving really fast. My heart goes out to all those whose homes have been damaged or destroyed, and to those who have lost loved ones, pets, and possessions.

We've heard for ages about droughts and floods due to climate change in other parts of the world (our daughter was in Germany earlier this month when there was flooding there). It seems the climate change phenomenon has finally come home to roost here, too. I have a number of relatives who were either on alert, have been evacuated, or have been stranded by flooding in the past three days. Cougar Creek, near my cousin Teresa's house, is actually a raging river. I've passed it many times when it was bone dry, so it's almost hard to imagine, except for the non-stop news reports and videos posted online.

Edmonton is under a flood alert, too, but I don't think we'll have serious issues unless we get the kind of 100 mm rainstorm they had in the Rockies on Wednesday/Thursday. Here's what our river looked like today -- a bit high, but not jumping the banks yet.

The problem is that people aren't connecting the dots... that these weather aberrations are directly linked to our highly consumptive lifestyles. Mindless living without considering the impact we are having on this gorgeous planet God gave us is creating conditions like the incredible melting of polar ice that leads to climate alteration and storms that cause so much damage and danger. It's time to rethink how we live, to use less of everything, and to walk more lightly on our earth in an effort to bring nature and humanity's impact on it back into balance.

With these things weighing heavily on my mind, I leave you with a beautiful but somewhat sombre piece of music by Camille St. Saens from his Carnival of the Animals. It ends on a lighter note... which is how I hope humanity's story ends, too.

The L'Arche AGM has me thinking...

For the past six months or so, my visits to my workplace have been rare, because I'm in the so-called enviable position of working from home. Trying to write the 40-year history of our L'Arche community requires a lot of concentration, and sharing the office at the Community Centre with two others and friends from the Day Program (Thomas, Sandy, Harry, Glen* and others) who stop by to chat, while enjoyable, isn't exactly conducive to the kind of word wrestling I've been doing of late. To put it plainly, I write better at home, without interruptions.

But the last couple of weeks, I've enjoyed going to work more frequently because of preparations for yesterday's Annual General Meeting. There were stakeholder packages to prepare and mail out, new documents to be copied for the Board members' binders, files to be organized, and the Day Program to be commissioned to make special, coloured and laminated voting cards for all our voting members to wave during our voting procedures. Besides accomplishing these things, I made one special trip on Tuesday to bring Shadow, our puppy, to meet my Day Program friends, at which time he was immediately scooped up and loved by Leanne. At last night's meeting she asked me, "How's your doggie?"

Yesterday was a busier than average day for me (for which I'm paying with dizziness today), but it reminded me why I love L'Arche so much. From a conversation with a colleague who was hoping I'd apply for an internally posted position, to an unexpected hug from Leanne, to a fond farewell to two Board members who have been amazing, to a powerpoint that was deeply touching and had our community leader sniffling as she tried to go on with other community presentations, it was a lovely day.

There were three moments/events in particular that really touched me. The first was the presentation by Shalom house about how they like to pray. They have been faithful participants in the "A Taste of Taizé Prayer" nights that I've been organizing for the past few years... and last night, they held their own version of Taizé Prayer, encouraging everyone at the AGM to sing and pray along with them to this video of Ubi Caritas:

I'll admit that a tear trickled down my cheek. I had been musing about moving our Taizé  Prayer to other parts of the city, but seeing how much Shalom House (and others in L'Arche) appreciate being able to attend, I'm rethinking that idea. Somehow, we'll have to continue in the southeast, perhaps in different churches, so Shalom can continue to join us.

The second special moment was when one of our non-verbal core members was invited to present a farewell gift to one of the board members whom he has known for many years, and included a heartfelt hug. Frank might not be able to speak, but the message in that embrace was clear to everyone present, and I'm sure it was how we were all feeling towards Norm and Dan, plus a little extra on Frank's part. Norm is his buddy...

The final moment was a simple gesture by Bill, the founding member of our community. When he saw me come into the room for refreshments after the meeting, he patted the seat beside him to say, "Come sit here," in his warm and welcoming way. So I sat and chatted with him for a few minutes. Bill is the core member who most reminds me of my uncle Louis, and I was happy just to sit quietly with him when our conversation ran out.

All of these moments have me thinking about all the good things at work that I miss while working in solitude. I'm more efficient here, but is it really that enviable to work from home? I'm thinking, not always.

* I use pseudonyms online for all my L'Arche friends.

Simple Suggestion #169... Grow your own herbal tea

I've been told that if you plant mint, it takes over your yard... and honestly, I wouldn't mind, because I love mint tea. Unfortunately, having mint run rampant through my flower beds has not been a problem thus far -- I can't even find last year's mint. So I was delighted when a neighbour brought me a few shoots to try again this year. I've spread them out among the lupines, columbines, and day lilies that you see at the top of my moodlings these days. Maybe they'll do better there.

I can pick a little fresh mint any time now... and if I add some lemon balm (right), that will make a really lovely tea. Not sure where my camomile went, but between the herbs I have growing in various places in my yard, I should be able to come up with an herbal tisane to rival the decaf fair trade coffee that's been my main morning beverage of late. I have yet to try brewing bergamot, lavender, sage, or thyme, but growing my own back yard tea is one step I can take to reduce my dependence on the fossil fuels required to transport coffees and other teas great distances for my enjoyment. And self reliance is always a good thing. Come autumn, I'll dry these tea herbs in the dehydrator another friend gave me so I can enjoy them through the winter. Maybe I'll give up on decaf permanently.

Along with the picture at the top of my moodlings these days, here are a few more photos of what's been happening in my yard. Maybe I'll pick me some lemon balm and mint right now, and take a cuppa tea out with me as I survey my little garden domain from my sitting stone...

The burgundy iris is in bloom...

...ladybugs on patrol among the lupines...

...finally got around to emptying the elm seeds that were sprouting 

in the rain water that's been collecting in our bird bath...

And here's my sitting stone, surrounded by Stella D'oro day lilies for the moment.

A good place to slow down and enjoy the little things in life with a cup of herbal tea...

Looking for more simple suggestions? Click here.

A tiny little musician on Father's Day

This weekend, I had another opportunity to attend a concert given by some very talented young Edmontonians who will be going to this year's Canadian Music Competition (if you want to read my raves from last year, click here). My sister wonders why she teaches music to the young lady in the video below -- this was A.'s performance at last year's competition, when she played Mozart's Piano Concerto No. 17K 453, the first movement. Last night I sat there shaking my head with amazement, or sat with my eyes closed, listening to 9-year-old A.'s fingers dance over the keys as she played Haydn's concerto Hob 18. 11 in D Major 1st Movement.

A. has such adult poise and grace at the keyboards, and has also taken up violin. But watching her childlike excitement at intermission last night (once her piece had been played), I suspect she enjoys the simplicity of school music classes, too, having the opportunity to just be a kid like other kids, and making music with her friends, instead of all alone in music practice.

Happy Father's Day to all dads who make music lessons possible. I'm thinking especially of my own dad, whose love of singing and music meant that though I never really liked piano lessons, I grew up singing in different choirs and music groups... and now I have one of my own to enjoy, of which he is part. My dad still has the best voice of all. Time for a singsong, Dad? I remember how we used to always sing, Love is a beautiful song, la la, la la la, la la... and of course, I still love you!

Simple Suggestion #168... Be e-free

I've been thinking about this one for a while... and about the way electronic devices are taking over peoples' lives. Mine included -- my family bought me an iPod for my birthday, and I've enjoyed listening to music as I work in my garden. The problem is all the other stuff on the little gadget -- email, FaceBook, snapchat and the most evil Words With Friends ( ha -- I have really been enjoying playing the internet version of Scrabble with my sisters, a couple of words a day, though I've never been very good at the game). I would guess that I've only used my iPod for listening to music maybe 20% of the time!

Have you noticed that you can't go anywhere any more without seeing someone twiddling on a smart phone or some other internet connected gadget? Even our family conversations have been interrupted with people checking Google for some piece of trivia or sharing some video that, in the past, wouldn't have been essential to any possible conversation. The immediacy of information and instant messaging has the world hooked, and somehow, I'm not convinced that's good for us as human beings.

So today's suggestion is simple -- and difficult -- for our internet addicted age: Be e-free one day each week, and if not one day a week, at least several conscious hours a day. I've decided that I'm going to avoid all electronic devices for one full day a week (I usually write my Sunday moodling before Sunday anyway) and find other things to do. Outdoors, perhaps. Or in my library. Maybe I'll sort my photo albums, or do some knitting (the weather's supposed to be lousy this weekend), or put on my rain gear and pull a few weeds. I'll find some non-electronics-related activities to fill my day, and give my brain a break, like this three minute video suggests... Care to join me???

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Nah, take a break from your computer!

What to say? What to do?

I'm at a loss today. A far away friend of mine has suffered an injustice, one of many straws that's on the verge of breaking the camel's back. She's been let down many times, and I feel powerless to help. My old standby question of what would Jesus do doesn't even have an answer. She's so far away that I can't reach her, and inviting her to come live here won't solve the basic issues with which she's struggling because Alberta is more expensive, not less. She's losing her faith in herself, her pride, her sense of self-worth. I don't know what to say or how to help.

All I know is that I love my friend, and she deserves better than this.

Any suggestions?

Happy Anniversary, Sister Jeannette!

When I met Sister Jeannette almost 30 years ago, I had several nuns in my life, all of them good women, so the title Sister told me that she was someone special, someone I could trust... and that has been the truth. My friend celebrated her 50th anniversary as one of the Filles de Jesus yesterday. She is a small woman with a big laugh, a wonderful sense of humour, and a heart as big as the world. Unfortunately, she and her kind are becoming really rare.

My youngest daughter, Julia, has always had a special friendship with Sister Jeannette, so we kind of invited ourselves to the Golden Jubilee mass, and once we were there, the woman being celebrated was so happy to see us that we got invited downstairs to the banquet, too. It was a lovely celebration of Sister Jeannette and Sister Frances, whom I didn't know. The two joined the fjs at the same time, and their celebration touched me deeply. I've known Sister Jeannette since I was a teenager, and thinking about all the young people she has touched (including my own daughters) and all the good work she's accomplished because she gave her life as a gift to God made me happy... and sad. Happy for her successful ministry over the last 50 years and the fact that I know her, and sad that my kids and grandkids may not have my many memories of good women like her, simply because there are so few women choosing religious life anymore.

But perhaps there's good reason for that. Perhaps people are finally waking up to the fact that it's not just sisters, priests, monks and ministers who are called by God. Every single one of us has a special call, and though I used to be one of those brainwashed Catholics who felt that those who were called to the priesthood or religious life were super-special in God's eyes and I was off the hook, now I know that's just not true. We are all called to do ordinary things with extraordinary love. So thinking one vocation more special than another is wrong-headed, and certainly not helpful in a world that needs every single person on the planet to use their gifts and to pull together to make God's love real. None of us are off the hook!

And I'm also sure that it's time for women in particular who want to commit themselves to God to have more than one way to do it. Women who felt called by God in Sister Jeannette's day had no choice except the convent... because the men in Rome who tightened up the rules about priesthood back in the Middle Ages were afraid to share the Church's power with anyone who wasn't a celibate male. These days, it would make more sense to me if women who hear God's call to ministry have the choice of deciding whether they want to join a religious community of women and/or to serve as a priest, like many Roman Catholic Women Priests do now.

Of course, none of this is to say that Sister Jeannette is not special. She definitely is, and I have always appreciated her faith and love and joy -- joy above all -- in my encounters with her. She's the kind of woman whose love for God makes everyone who meets her want to know God, too, and she's easier to talk with than many priests I know. The fact that she has been a faithful Fille de Jesus for 50 years when the institutional Church has done so little for religious women only impresses me with her perseverance in staying close to God (though I suspect she'd like to be a more radical feminist, she won't abandon her community).

I fully expect the Holy Spirit will see to it that there will always be good, faithful people like Sister Jeannette who will do the kinds of things she has done with her life, though perhaps someday, they will be free to live their vocations as they see fit. Perhaps they won't even need titles like Sister or Father.

But then my question is, when I first meet them, how will I know that the person I'm meeting is a Sister Jeannette kind of person??? I guess I'll know them by their actions and their love; St. Francis' saying will be my proof -- "Preach the Gospel; use words if necessary."

Sister Jeannette definitely doesn't need to use words.

Here's the song that ended her celebration -- one of my favourite hymns.

Julia's garden

My youngest daughter has decided that she wants to be a farmer. Her best friend's family is connected to a farm, and the two girls have a dream about running the farm and growing their own food. So I wasn't surprised when, back in January, Julia announced that she wanted her own garden space this spring.

She asked for two tomato plants and some carrot and cucumber seeds, and when we were shopping for a few bedding plants, she begged for pansies, and planted them next to her garden box. Her cucumbers are up, a few carrots have sprouted, and the one tomato plant that didn't succumb to a cut worm is doing alright. Her sudden interest in gardening inspired her older sister to ask for a box, too, and Suzanna planted pumpkins in hers, which I expect will try to take over our backyard lawn space. But that's okay from our family's "grow food, not lawn" point of view!

I'll leave you with a quotation I like, and some pictures of what's blooming in my yard. More to come!

I think gardening is nearer to godliness than theology. True gardeners are both iconographers and theologians insofar as these activities are the fruit of prayer ‘without ceasing.’ Likewise, true gardeners never cease to garden, not even in their sleep, because gardening is not just something they do. It is how they live.

 - Vigen Guroian, The Fragrance of God

See the happy little bee in the nearest flower?

Simple Suggestion #167... Visit/tour your local waste and/or recycling facility

Did you know that this is Environment Week? It's a time to think about ways to live more lightly in our environment and reduce our ecological footprint... in particular, the things our lives leave behind, a.k.a. waste.

Recently, my hubby and daughter ran into a garbage parade in St. Petersburg. They probably would have missed it but for the drummers who created a soundscape that Lee and Christina followed, only to find a group of people dressed up in all sorts of garbage-y looking costumes (a plastic bag-wearing lady on stilts, some men dressed in piles of newspapers or recycled bottles, and a host of others) pushing a great ball of glued-together trash down the park path.

The green squad, as Lee called them, seemed to be doing their best to get their community to think about waste. I remember reading somewhere that Moscow's landfills were supposed to be full by now, so it would have been interesting to find out about the waste situation in the Russian Federation. Of course, Christina and Lee were too surprised by the whole thing to think to ask questions. They took it all in, and took a few pictures just for me, because they knew I'd find it interesting.

Here in Edmonton, we have our own green squad of sorts -- a group of volunteers known as Master Composter/Recyclers who do their best to reduce waste and to educate others to do the same. As one of that crowd, I'm always rubbing shoulders with other MC/Rs who have done some pretty amazing things in order to cut down what goes into their garbage cans each week. They go beyond the usual composting and recycling in order to have less waste before they even start an ordinary day. As far as I know, the group hasn't tried a garbage parade yet (though the City's Michael Recycle mascot makes appearances at different events). Hey, a garbage parade could be fun, and get folks thinking...

But there's nothing to get us thinking about reducing waste like people who know how to do it... or like a tour of our local landfill and waste management service. Just seeing the amount of stuff that gets "dumped" in a short period of time makes a person think about how terrible it is to have to throw away anything at all. If we want a healthier environment, reducing waste is key... and if we want to reduce waste, buying less is critically important -- less packaging, fewer chemically compounded items, and nothing that we don't NEED.

The City of Edmonton actually gives tours of its recycling facilities and transfer station, especially this Environment Week. And there are lots of other Environment Week activities going on, that you can read about by clicking here.

So, this week's simple suggestion is to educate yourself about where your garbage goes and how you can reduce it by visiting local waste and recycling facilities. Our environment will thank you.

P.S. Looking for more Simple Suggestions? Click here.

A whimsical Sunday video

Remember last week, how I moodled about the whimsical movie featuring the Trinity? Well, I've learned that it was part of a TV series called Insight, put out by Paulist Communications in the seventies and eighties. I can't find Jesus B.C., but here's a little video called The Sixth Day that runs along the same lines, with the same sort of gentle humour. I like stuff like this, because it uses imagination to take the Bible story a little further, and I'm sure God has a huge sense of humour about these things! Keenan Wynn plays God, Marty Feldman of the amazing eyes is the Archangel Josh, and Randolph Mantooth is Adam. Enjoy!