Monday Music Appreciation #33: You are my sunshine by Ray Charles and Margie Hendrix

A few weeks ago, this song was on the playlist for my zoom dancing group (if you want to join us on Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday mornings at 8:30 MST, let me know), and did I dance? Like crazy! It's not your traditional folksy version of You Are My Sunshine, but there's something so... groovy about it that when I hear it, I can't keep still. Ray Charles is the man, but Margie Hendrix owns this song. See/hear for yourself, and enjoy!

Sunday reflection: Thorns

Today's reflection is brought to you by 

2 Corinthians 12:7-10.

Creator of all things,

don't you think thorns a terrible mistake?

After all, 

they can't enhance the beauty of roses

in any meaningful way.

Holes in my flesh aren't helpful

when I'm presenting beauty to people I love.

And thorns in my life, 

like Paul writes about to the Corinthians?

I could definitely do without them.

Or could I?

My struggles,

faults, 

foibles, 

and failings

sometimes keep me awake at night,

and often make me feel foolish

and less than worthy

of your love.

But I guess that's the point (ha)

of those thorns.

Even if there were no thorns,

you find ways

to remind humanity

over and over

that you love us --

by the vast and beautiful world

you have given to us,

the true and good people

in our lives,

and the love 

with which you surround us.

Nothing I do

(or consistently fail to do, 

or mess up, 

or catastrophize)

can keep you from loving me.

My thorns are part of the package

that you have created.

And just like you gave roses thorns

not to beautify them further,

but to protect them 

from hungry mouths that would devour them,

you give me my thorns --

those things

that I fail to do, 

or consistently mess up, 

or catastrophize --

so that my ego doesn't devour me.

As much as my thorns,

weaknesses, 

insults, 

hardships, 

persecutions

and calamities

are a pain in the

wherever,

I often

learn from them

and learn to rely on you

because of them.

Keep me open to learning

even when 

those thorns are particularly

sharp.

Only you are the strength

in my weakness.

+Amen

The return of the gardener/moodler

Hello, friends,

My summer break from Simple Moodlings is over, and I'm back again with a little garden video. I post these as much for myself as for you because I like to look back sometimes at previous years' garden reports, to remember how I've done things in the past, or what worked and what didn't. 

Cornelia Scarecrow is definitely working already this garden season, with a half dozen juvenile magpies and several baby crows around, waiting for her to look the other way (she doesn't). After I made this video, I realized that she needed a slight repair after standing out in the rain on Tuesday night, so she's in fine shape once again. It's just that the young magpies don't seem to be afraid of anything, even when I come after them for snapping the tops off my snow pea plants. You should see what they do to my pansies! I've tried to explain to them that bugs and worms are a much better diet for them, but they just laugh at me, HAA, HAA.

A simple reminder for my readers -- if you want a friendly email whenever I moodle about something, it really is easy peasy -- just put your email into the subscribe box on the right, and you'll get an email from Mail Chimp asking you to click if you agree to receive Simple Moodlings. You can easily unsubscribe at the bottom of those emails, too. I have a few regular readers, mostly family and friends, and I appreciate being able to share with you all.

I'll post highlights from this year's June vacation and other odds and ends soon, I promise. In the meantime, here's what my garden looks like on July 5, 2024. 

Happy Summer!

Sunday morning breakfast prayer

Thank you, 

Creator,

for the simplicity of my breakfast,

the Symphony of birdsong 

and the beauty of this day.

+Amen

Four hundred and twenty-one

Angel butterflies on the sashes
worn by volunteers at today's 
Homeless Memorial Service

At the Homeless Memorial Service organized by the Edmonton Coalition on Housing and Homelessness today, four hundred and twenty-one people who died of causes related to homelessness in 2023 were remembered, grieved, and honoured. 

The city medical examiner's report to city council listed the shocking number of 302 people who died with "no fixed address" last year, but this even more horrific number includes people who lived on the streets for years and whose health failed because of the effects of homelessness even though they may have been housed at the time of their death. 

Effie, who I met last July, was one of them. Effie, a beautiful butterfly like the Painted Lady butterflies released today in honour of the many people we have lost to the effects of homelessness.

My spirit is with everyone who attended the service to remember someone special today. My grieving heart tells me that we are all one family, and that we need to do whatever it takes so that no one, 
no one, 
no one is homeless.

It's time for change.

Taking a wee break

It's time for a little vacation, so Simple Moodlings might not appear in your inbox for the next few weeks (not that it's been very regular of late). 

In the last few months, Lee and I sold our car that had the capacity to pull our tent trailer to our kids, and bought a plug-in electric hybrid vehicle to cut our carbon emissions.

That meant that our tent trailer days ended too. We sold our 21-year-old Coleman trailer to a young family who will love it as much as we did, and bought a tent and a nice thick camping mattress.

And now we're off to Southern Alberta for a while, trusting our daughter and Creator's good weather to keep the garden going in our absence. I've scheduled one moodling for June 6, but will likely take the rest of the month off.

Have a lovely June! I intend to do just that.

Monday music appreciation #32: That saxophone

Sometimes I come home from my ushering shift at the Winspear Centre for Music with a new piece of music I have to hear a second time... and share with you.

This time it's the first movement of Rachmaninoff's Symphonic Dances, simply because of a gorgeous central section that gives the saxophone an interesting solo line that seems to be surrounded by lilting "birdsong" from other woodwinds. It made my heart feel a longing I couldn't name... before it moved into more exciting fanfares and a hymn-like ending (with birds seemingly singing along again). At least, that's how it sounded to me.

The entire three movements amazed me, but I'm just leaving the first here for you. Enjoy!

Sunday reflection: a conversation with the Trinity

A triple daffodil?

Okay, 

You Three,

what do you want from me?

Creator,

help me to see.

Beloved child, 

you know that I am with you

in all that surrounds you.

Only open 

your eyes

and your heart.

Brother Jesus,

walk along with me.

Beloved friend,

I am with you always,

even to the end of the age.

Hold my hand.

Beautiful Spirit,

let me rest, 

rejoice,

and trust in you.

Beloved one,

set down your burdens

and let me lift your heart.

Know that, 

in doing so, 

you will 
bear my fruits...

I, 

we, 

all three, 

are here now.

Join the circle of our embrace.

What more do you need?

Amen, 

you three,

I need nothing but you.

+Amen.

An update on homelessness

I've been really disheartened lately, and I'm not the only one. Here's why.

Since encampments for the homeless have been eradicated from downtown Edmonton, the homeless population has spread out through ravines and neighbourhoods, looking for places where they can live in peace. (Emergency shelters are not peaceful.)

FENCES AIN'T GONNA FIX HOMELESSNESS
-- a sign on the fencing erected where the last encampment was demolished in January

There is no peace for homeless people, because as soon as they find a corner where they can settle in what feels like safety with their loved ones, bylaw officers and clean up crews show up to displace them yet again and try to force them back into shelters. 

On Tuesday morning, officials were clearing the streets near the Bissell Centre by harrassing people who were sleeping on the sidewalks (they prefer that to the shelters, which says a lot). And a friend of mine reported seeing police tearing a blanket away from a fellow trying to stay warm in a transit shelter near the mall closest to where I live. I guess blankets are considered "temporary shelters" now, though had I been there, I would have been tempted to gently remind the officers that taking blankets away from people amounts to theft.

The Edmonton Police Service motto is Integrity, Courage and Community. I wonder how many of the officers are disheartened by what they are being forced to do to dismantle small communities of people who have no reliable places to live?

Other things have been taken away from the homeless, too. The Bissell Centre's drop-in space -- where many homeless people who are forced to leave shelters for the day were able to spend time doing laundry, taking a shower, receiving help, or having a meal -- has been cut to the bare bone. Forty-five staff members lost their jobs, and six hundred meals served there each day have vanished. 

The space that used to hold two hundred folks at any given time of day now serves only thirty at a time because there aren't enough staff to keep things running for people in need. The line up outside never ends, and people at the end of the line don't make it through the doors because hours have been reduced too.

Things are only getting worse and worse. The tents in the area have mostly disappeared in accordance with the city and province's "out of sight, out of mind" efforts to deal with homelessness by dismantling encampments, but the need is greater than ever. 

Pastor Quinn and I set up our table with socks, underwear, toiletries and snacks on Tuesday with four bags of supplies to pass out -- and everything was gone within fifteen minutes. Our two hundred Sunday lunches offered by faith groups who support Inner City Pastoral Ministry used to be given away in about forty-five minutes, but now it's more like fifteen, twenty if we're lucky. 

And what really breaks my heart is how many people are dying. In 2017, there were thirty deaths related to homelessness in Edmonton. Last year, we had a memorial service for one hundred and fifty-six people who died of causes connected to homelessness. Once again this year, the Edmonton Coalition On Housing and Homelessness is planning a service -- for at least three hundred, likely more. From thirty to three hundred in only seven years! It's absolutely horrifying.

All of this is hard to witness, but it's necessary to do so. The lives of these people who live on Edmonton's streets are just as important as my life. Ignoring them does all of humanity a disservice. We will never be whole until all are cared for.

If you are able, please join us for the annual Homeless Memorial on June 6, 1 pm, at the foot of the CN Tower across from City Hall. The lives of more than 300 people will be honoured, and perhaps it will be the start of a grass roots movement for change.

We can only hope.

Exchanging dandelions for clover

This year's tulips

Some years ago, I was told that dandelions are essential plants that help pollinators survive early in the spring, and that it was better to leave them for the many varieties of bees that come out of hibernation looking for food. 

And so, I've written many moodlings about learning to like dandelions for the bees' sake. I happily ignored the dandelions on my grassy boulevard as it seemed a losing battle anyway (though I still dig them out of my perennial beds). I live across the street from a small area park that turns yellow every spring, and blows seed into my yard.

But this year, the Edmonton Horticultural Society webpage was abuzz with the news that dandelion pollen offers very little nutrition to bees, who much prefer the early violas and flowering trees and shrubs that I have in abundance in my yard. The EHS experts explained that, contrary to earlier knowledge, dandelions offer nothing of value when it comes to breaking up compacted soil or adding nutrients, either.

So, dear readers, you can ignore all my previous dandelion moodlings (though I still like the cheerfulness of those bright yellow flowers) because, well, I was wrong on many counts (as were many other people). It's good to admit my mistakes!

When I mentioned my mistake and my decision to reduce my dandelion crop to my neighbour, Wendy, she offered me a bag of white clover seed that I was delighted to receive. So for the past week or so, I've been digging dandelions and planting clover in the space they occupied. The effort has been wreaking havoc with my carpal tunnel, but it's very satisfying to pull up those long roots and imagine bees enjoying clover flowers instead. 

While I was digging today, I met a passerby who said that she had planted clover last summer, and it was doing well. It's often softer and greener than grass, and I remember our little dog loving to roll in it!

And... There's nothing like honey that comes from fields of clover! Besides, if I really want more dandelion jelly, I can always visit the park across the street...

Breathe in us, Holy Spirit

Because I'm in the thick of garden work these days, I didn't get to my computer yesterday to post something for Monday Music Appreciation. I also missed marking the Feast of Pentecost on Sunday, which is my favourite Christian celebration of the year. So you could call today's moodling a Pentecost music appreciation.

Over the years, my relationship with God has undergone different phases. As a child who loved her dad deeply (still do), I had no problem appreciating God as Father. In my teen years, I spent a lot of time with a youth group connected to a retreat movement for youth known as Christ our Light, and while there, I really fell in love with Jesus. 

But as an adult entering into my senior years (I enter my 60th year on Thursday) and connecting more and more with Indigenous spirituality, my prayer now leans toward Creator, the creative and Holy Spirit who enlivens everything in the cosmos. And in the face of all the war in our world, of divisive politics, of the lack of understanding and empathy for those living in poverty or with addictions, of the unforgiveness that exists in society and even within families these days, all I can say is

Breathe in us, Holy Spirit.

When I first heard this music in October of 2016, I was sitting on the floor in the Church of Reconciliation in Taizé, France, and I experienced a major case of goosebumps. Being with several hundred young people in a spirit of deep prayer, it was easy to believe that the Spirit was breathing in us. 

Since then, sometimes, when I'm feeling overwhelmed and hopeless, I return to this song and beg the Spirit to help us to help our world to find the common ground that will bring us into compassion for -- and communion with -- all those who are offered judgment instead of love.

Breathe in us, Holy Spirit.

The cadence of the chant is like gentle breathing, and the many languages evoke the Spirit of Pentecost's multilingual celebration. On Sunday evening, our Taizé group prayed this prayer. As Pentecost lasts for 50 days, I invite you to pray it with me here whenever you like. 

Breathe in us, Holy Spirit.

Monday Music Appreciation #31: A catchy dance tune

This week's music appreciation is actually a video from 2021's remake of West Side Story, a movie I completely missed (thanks, covid). It came to my attention through the Symphony for Kids at the Winspear last week, M is for Music, as (I Like to Be in) America was used as the piece to introduce all the different sections of the orchestra -- brass, woodwinds, strings and percussion. It's a wonderful, lively tune, and it made me wish I was up on stage dancing with the lead performer because she was clearly having a marvellous time! America was written by Leonard Bernstein, lyrics by Stephen Sondheim.

The original movie (1961) featured a feisty Rita Moreno as the lead singer/dancer in a dark back-street-like studio, all in one piece and faithful to the story, but I like Ariana DeBose's version from 2021 even better because of all the sunlit street dancing (which doesn't actually jive with the timeline for the Broadway play). I think I'm going to see if I can find and watch both movies, just because my life could use a musical right now. 

Enjoy!

A Mother's Day Prayer

Creator,

thank you

for the many gifts and blessings

you have given.

We praise you for the beauty 

of the universe,

and this planet

which holds us 

in existence,

goodness,

and steadfastness

though sometimes we don't deserve it.

We praise you for the gift of love

that gave each of us a mother

who gave us life with your help.

We pray for all mothers

who have birthed your children,

especially those 

who are struggling in any way.

We pray for heartbroken mothers

who don't know where their children are.

We pray for heartbroken children

who don't know where their mothers are.

We pray for children 

estranged from their mothers

or whose mothers have died.

We pray for mothers 

estranged from their children,

or whose children have died.

We pray for mothers and children 

caught in dangerous places, 

that they may find refuge and peace.

We pray for new mothers

and great grandmothers 

and all mothers in between.

We pray for all those 

who have mothering hearts,

for all good women 

who mother 

those who need 

extra special care.

And we give thanks,

Creator,

for your mothering heart,

who gives us mothers

who love us 

and are loved by us.

+Amen.

Happy May!

May is my favourite month of the year. It's always been special for me because of Mother's Day and my birthday, but those fade into the background when flowers bloom and trees put out leaves and Spring abounds!

It's also a busy time, made busier these days by wonderful educational concerts at work (if you know any young families who might be interested, M is for Music is a wonderful show written and performed by a former Edmontonian and the Edmonton Symphony Orchestra this weekend), and planting starting in earnest. So far I've planted onions, Lee put in potatoes, and there's lettuce, arugula, spinach and garlic poking up. And today I moved my tomato and pepper plants outside into our covered garden box, where I hope they can stay until they are properly planted (though if the temperatures dip, I'll be sure to bring them back into the greenhouse -- I learned my lesson two years ago when I put things in before the May full moon and lost 40 tomato babies!) 

Here are the tomato plants... and other things in the yard just starting to bloom. Happy May!

Scilla, true blue

Tulipa

A few crocuses that the jackrabbit didn't eat...

and violas all over the place!

Happy Spring!

Monday Music Appreciation #30: The Unfinished Symphony

After getting my first university degree, I took a gap year to travel with an international, educational and cultural group of young people known as Up With People. My 100+ castmates and I toured through the US, Eastern Canada, and Western Europe performing a musical revue-type show known as Time for the Music, which featured a song called Unfinished World. It borrowed a musical motif from Schubert's Unfinished Symphony that still gives me goosebumps. 

Schubert's orchestral work was one that he wrote as an "audition" of sorts, and it was set aside for other compositions. He had no way of knowing that he would only live another 6 years. 

Then his score was forgotten in another musician's cupboard for 43 years before "premiering" in Vienna. It is far superior to the 80s rock-ballad that we were singing in Time for the Music. Still, it reminds me of a time of youthful exuberance, so I was delighted to hear it twice while ushering at the Winspear Centre for Music last week. 

The Unfinished (Symphony No. 8 in B minor, D759) has two parts, but I'll just leave the Allegro moderato here. The melody that starts at about a minute and a half into the piece and is thrown back and forth among the different stringed and wind instruments several times fills me with joy every time I hear it.

Who am I kidding -- the whole piece does!

Enjoy!

Monday Music Appreciation #29: A song for Earth Day

Happy Earth Day! (Even though every day needs to be Earth Day...)

We're having a lot of dry and very windy days here, with no rain forecasted. I'll admit to feeling anxious, especially since there's already an evacuation going on in Northern Alberta due to a wildfire. Everything is dry, dry, dry. 

In honour of our beautiful Mother Earth who sustains us all, and as a prayer for her and for rain, too, I offer this lovely piece by Coco Love Alcorn, a Canadian artist who composes a lot of earth-friendly music, and who is incredibly talented. See for yourself!

Sunday Reflection: See what love!

Today's reflection is brought to you by

1 John 3: 1-2.

Sometimes,

I open my eyes

and see what love

you, 

Creator,

have given to me.

Truly, 

I am swimming in it --

the air I breathe,

the light from sun and moon,

the fact that I exist at all.

As your beloved child,

I sense that you are with me

in every tiny flower

and budding leaf, 

in every splash of rain

and whisper of a breeze,

in every smile and nod

from strangers and friends.

And sometimes,

the world's hurts and struggles,

disappointments and unkindnesses

can weigh me down

so that I lose sight of you.

In labouring to become 

what you want for your creation --

in business and busy-ness

it's easy to miss 

small signs and wonders 

that are 

your presence.

Until... I clear away 

last year's autumn leaves,

and there you are --

in the purple and yellow face

of a single blooming viola.

Until... a young woman

(who is your presence too) 

asks for clean clothes this morning,

and there you are --

in a single pair of jeans

that is her size.

Until... the sage smoke

of today's smudge

embraces my garden-achy bones

and there you are --

your blessing surrounding me.

Until... the woman 

at a rummage sale

smiles and gives me 

one old flowerpot for free,

and there you are --

I smile back 

at you.

We are all your children

and you give your all to us.

Remind us often

that we see you 

as you are

everywhere we look

because nothing exists

without you holding it 

and us

together.

May we see your love!

+Amen.

Planning, planting, and growing time

April 17th snow

This is what I woke up to yesterday morning. It made me laugh. Of course, the snow didn't last. 

Spring is here, I keep telling myself, but like any Canadian spring, it's variable until suddenly it feels like we're in full summer mode. With things as dry as they are, we're keeping our fingers crossed for more moisture, and white stuff like this is welcome!

Those big pine structures are Lee's latest project. The original raised bed garden boxes are falling apart after nine years. We cobbled them together with stakes for the last few years to buy ourselves a bit more time, and now Lee is working on replacing them. He built fourteen of them in a day, plastered them with two coats of linseed oil last weekend, and dug two in while I was at work on Monday, though he was still digging through a bit of frost. He's a hard worker, and takes extra pleasure in his efforts when we eat food we've grown ourselves.

Our old raised bed boxes have meant that our soil generally thaws quicker in the spring, holds moisture better, and they keep the soil from compacting because we only walk the paths around them. Weeding smaller raised sections works well for me, too, and I plant the boxes quite densely so we end up with more produce than I ever did planting straight rows in more compacted soil. 

Unfortunately, the wooden 2x2s we used to hold the corners of our boxes together back in 2015 were the first part to rot out, so this time, Lee is using metal brackets to hold the corners together, and hopefully these boxes will last another ten years (with reusable brackets). Or maybe we'll just go back to planting in mounds again, if we're still gardening. 

It's hard to imagine what the future holds because of climate change and drought. I find myself wondering about planting a garden at all when our wildfire season started in February this year because we've had so little moisture over the winter. But I'm trying to be optimistic, and evidence of optimism can be seen in our greenhouse:

A few of my 64 tomato plants
(some to be given to friends and family)

Peppers and marigolds

Geraniums and nicotiana

For the last few years, I've enjoyed the challenge of growing my own bedding plants -- going through the garden catalog, picking a colour scheme, ordering seeds, and starting them early. When it comes to my tomatoes and peppers, whose seeds I save from year to year, I may have planted a bit too soon, but I was in the groove and couldn't help myself. Every year the tomato plants are a bit spindly by the May full moon planting time (my birthday this year) and I feel a bit embarrassed about giving them away to friends, but they've learned to dig them deep so that they build better root systems, and they usually do really well for all of us.

I guess we'll see what kind of growing conditions the Master Gardener Creator gives us this year. For now, I'm just enjoying this planning, planting, and growing time.

Monday Music Appreciation #28 -- That organ!

The Davis Concert Organ at the Winspear Centre for Music where I work is an amazing masterpiece in itself. But when you get someone who can play the thing, it's absolutely incredible.

I didn't get to post about our most recent organ concert for Monday Music Appreciation last week due to another trip to visit my father-in-law, but hold onto your hats. The piece in the video below was performed at the Winspear last week by Jean-Willy Kunz, with Kerem Hassan conducting the Edmonton Symphony Orchestra. I sat in my usher's chair shaking my head with amazement through the whole thing, but I've only given you the last three minutes or so to listen to here. The final notes had me on my feet.

If you want more, Youtube has Guilmant's entire 20+ minute long Symphonie No. 1 in D minor for Organ and Orchestra, posted by conductor Jason Tramm, organ by Gordon Turk with the midAtlantic Orchestra (a 2018video made in Ocean Grove NJ) if you click here.

Imagine the floor vibrating under your feet and enjoy!

Monday Music Appreciation #27: My Sweet Lord

This one is for Francis, who came to the Community of Emmanuel yesterday for Easter Sunday Service, and who, after the service, insisted that we go out on the street and lead a chorus of George Harrison's "My Sweet Lord." Of course, we didn't actually know the words well enough to do that, and most of the people in the lunch line up didn't either, so it was a hopeless cause. 

But here it is, all the same, a pretty cool piece of music with a lot of the Alleluias he wanted to sing. Just for Francis.