Beets, computer issues and a Sunday video on a Monday afternoon

My regular rhythm as a moodler has been way off for the last few weeks, and I'm starting to wonder if I'll ever get it back. Those who are regular readers know that I usually post new moodlings on Tuesdays, Thursdays and Sundays, but with work and garden work taking so much time of late, things haven't been terribly regular.

So I was looking forward to Edmonton's L'Arche International 50th Anniversary Gala on September 20th for all sorts of reasons, the two primary ones being that it would be an enjoyable evening (it DEFINITELY was!) and that my time would become my own once the tickets were sold and the silent auction was history.

Of course, now my time is my own, and I'm doing my best to catch up on all the produce that was temporarily shelved for the last several weeks. Yesterday I peeled and chopped five gallons (20 L) of beets, and today I'm turning 4 gallons (16 L) of tomatoes into spaghetti sauce.

I thought I would at least post a Sunday video yesterday, but my computer hard drive needed some attention, so seven hours went to that...

So here's a Sunday video, on a Monday afternoon, just because I'm listening to a YouTube Taize playlist as I make my spaghetti sauce. This is such a gorgeous Polish chant, attributed to Pope John Paul II, who simply echoed the message of Christ. It translates: "God is love. Keep your courage to live for love. Do not be afraid."

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=E92Z3bwBVyI

Simple Suggestion #213... Appreciate your present season

Okay, I'll admit it... some seasons are easier to appreciate than others.

These two pictures were taken in the same place only a week apart.

Isn't Autumn something else??

But if you really think about it, every season has its amazement, its miracle.

The snowflakes that will be fluttering to the ground in the Winter ahead, 

when we appreciate warm and cozy places,

the pointed shoots, leaves and buds of Spring 

when we rejoice in the newness of life,

the long, sunny days of Summer, 

when we find moments of rest and relaxation as life grows ...

and now, Autumn's changeability as nature diminishes.

As human beings, we have a tendency to dislike change. 

But part of being human is learning appreciation for all that we receive,

and we receive four seasons a year through our senses. 

Instead of complaining about them 

and their "unseasonable" moments, 

we live happier lives when we can embrace them.

As my grandma Dorothea often said, 

"I could complain, but what good does that do?"

So today's suggestion is one that we can take literally and figuratively.

The earth's seasons have many things for us to enjoy

if only we choose to notice them.

And our life's seasons are the same.

The Spring of my daughters' youthfulness fills me 

with a different kind of joy  

than the late Summer of my soul's stretching 

and the Autumn of my parents' wisdom.

And there are often Spring and Summer-like days in the midst of any season

(for those of us who find Winter harder to appreciate).

For the moment, I'm appreciating Autumn for all I'm worth!

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

Rest in God, Father Catfish

He died last night at the age of 42, after surviving stomach cancer that came back in his bones and other places. There's no doubt that his funeral on Friday will be standing room only. He was a man who had many gifts, one of his main ones being that of connecting with youth through his sense of humour, and his love of super heroes, Star Wars, legos, and Pepsi. He was chaplain for Edmonton Catholic Schools and Camp Encounter, and he had his own website with blog postings and hundreds of youtube videos. I chuckle as I read the titles of some of them: "Premarital Sex with Father Catfish" parts 1, 2, 3 and 4(!), "Love! And that's an ORDER!!!" "Dodge Ram! Arrghh Arrghh Arrghh!!" and "Church can be a lot like Facebook," to list just a few. He spent time listening to young people, inviting them to chat about life while sharing a jar of DinoSours at school. He and his dog sang at our daughter's graduation mass in May. He made many poignant health update and other videos as he dealt with his cancer, many of them underlining his belief that God is love.

Rest in that love, Father Michael Mireau.

The party of the half-century

My heart is full of L'Arche this morning. We had such fun at our party of the half-century last night (Edmonton's celebration of the 50 years L'Arche has been in existence around the world). Almost 250 people came for a banquet, sing-and-dance-along, silent auction and dance, and it was a little piece of heaven. As we made a crazy conga line around the dance floor, wheelchairs and all, the many smiling faces made me wonder if heaven could be any more fun!

Four years later...

I'm still here, moodling away, although lately, there hasn't been a lot of time to write between working almost full-time and dealing with produce the rest of the time. But today marks the fourth anniversary of this blog, and it's time for my annual update...

To date, I've published 851 moodlings -- including 212 Simple Suggestions. I've received 495 comments from real human beings (but most of my comments have been odd spammy ones like the computer generated goofiness that arrived yesterday, saying, "Thank you for the good account. It in fact was a amusement account it. Look advanced to more added agreeable from you. My website... Notary Public Sacramento CA." Haha, yeah, right. These things always make me laugh all the way to the delete button!!)

And -- believe it or not -- sometime in the last few weeks Simple Moodlings reached more than 100,000 hits, although probably half of them are what's called referrer spam (spamming computers trolling in order to create more traffic to their own websites somehow) rather than real human beings actually reading these writings. Oh well -- I have no illusions when it comes to this blog's popularity, which is next to non-existent. I'm just having fun, writing my love letter to the world... my family and friends... my heroes... L'Arche... Voluntary Simplicity... and gardeners, writers, book lovers, musicians, and moodlers everywhere.

Again, thanks to my faithful readers, to those who leave real live encouraging comments here -- and in person -- and to my family for putting up with my moodling habit. Thank you, thank you very much. I look forward to having more time to spend here in the weeks and months ahead.

A garden's many gifts

There are many reasons to grow a garden, but this is one of my favourite: a cheese sandwich with tasty tomato and sweet cucumber.

I also like sharing with friends and family, knowing exactly where my organic food is coming from and how it's produced, watching things grow, getting my hands into the dirt, and the feeling in my body after a day of good labour.

Thank God for gardening!

And for the sandwich I'm having for lunch!

Your word is a lamp

I'm finding more and more that, as I get older, I need fewer words in my faith life. I suspect that's why Taizé speaks for my faith better than the regular liturgy in my usual place of worship. God’s word is a light to my path, and all those other words that attempt to embellish what is already so clear to me are a distraction from Christ’s simple message to love one another, love God, and most of all, love our enemies (that’s the hardest thing he taught, and I’m still not very good at it!)

Tonight is our first Taizé Prayer of this late summer/autumn/winter season, and it will be held at Assumption Catholic Church (9040 95 Avenue, Edmonton). If you’re in the neighbourhood, come and join us – and bring a friend if you like for some ecumenical, musical, meditative prayer... even for our enemies. 

The chant below is Finnish for “Your word is a lamp, a light on my path.”

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gyHxHLcvbVA

Scrambling with produce

It's been a wonky week, mainly because we woke up to snow flurries on Monday morning.
We haven't had the accumulations that Calgary is getting, but still, I groan.
Snow in early September?!! Ugh!!
It means we have to scramble to take in the garden before it freezes tonight,
since I don't have enough blankets to cover everything!

Codie McLaughlan took this pic for the Edmonton Sun a couple of blocks from our place.
Fortunately, Edmonton didn't get much whiter than that.

I donned my most waterproof clothing (which didn't turn out to be very waterproof) and spent almost five hours in the garden, salvaging vegetables that, fortunately, hadn't frozen. It was one degree centigrade, and the wind whipped the snow around so that I wondered if a blizzard was on its way. I found myself shivering a few times, which made me decide it was time to change my soaked and very chilly garden gloves. I went through a pair an hour, with little cotton mitts inside them that kept some of the warmth until they got too wet.

My Belgian friend, Gaby, tells me that I look like some sort of astronaut!

There was a lot of organic matter for composting, 

Nine bags of leaves layered amongst bean and squash plants.

and more fruits and vegetables than I realized!  (14 spaghetti squash!)

As always, there were a few cukes that had hidden themselves well and had grown to outrageous size. 

I also harvested Ralph's Romas, 

and found that the biggest, four-fist-sized tomato had a little frosty spot on it...
so 1/4 of it was my lunch for today.
There was definitely more of everything than I realized!

We harvested our pears last weekend, thank goodness, so all that's left to deal with are the pumpkins, kale, chard, onions, leeks, beets, carrots and kohlrabi. 

I managed to salvage four tomato plants growing in my compost bins

and move them into the greenhouse on Saturday (we'll see if they amount to anything),

and our pepper pots are happily settled there, too. 

There should be lots of lovely peppers for spaghetti sauce making in October.

We are extremely fortunate that it didn't freeze outright. There's a lot of work ahead to make the most of all this produce, but it's worth it for a fifty-foot diet. And there's nothing like tomato and cucumber sandwiches this time of year. My favourite!

Thanks again, God, for our garden, and your abundance!

Sunday Reflection -- Too much change

It's funny how I always end up on this theme as summer comes to a close. I suppose it's probably because the changes in my garden in early September can't be ignored -- especially when the meteorologists are forecasting frost and snow for the week ahead.

But it also seems that, after the summer's freedoms are reigned in by shorter evenings and cooler temperatures, and we find ourselves indoors facing dark windows, there is time to consider the ebb and flow of life.

Last week, I learned that my neighbour, Olga, would be going into an independent senior's residence. She's already gone, and I didn't even get to have her over for supper one more time, or wish her well in her new digs. Her house is supposed to be put up for sale in the next few weeks, and it brings to mind the changes of last fall, when the 820 sq ft home of another old neighbour was torn down in the space of twenty-five minutes...

to be replaced by...

Though I much preferred Ruby's little house and her amazing garden to this, I've had a year to adjust to the changes across the alley. But losing Olga as a dear neighbour who was next door one day and gone the next makes for a tougher adjustment than living with the mess of having a new home go up behind us. Olga and I won't be chatting across our front lawns as we dig dandelions together from here on. I've just lost my fourth good gardener neighbour in five years.

And there are other changes happening in the neighbourhood -- homes being sold, others being knocked down and replaced, some people moving away, and others moving in. Change is the only constant... and I guess there's no choice but to live with that fact.

But Gracious God, please slow it down just a little! If you'd hold off on that frost for another week or two, I'd really appreciate it...

How Lucy made my day

Yesterday was a big day at L'Arche, or so it seemed. Because it was the first work day in September at our Community Centre, most people who had been away on vacation returned, and we were almost at full capacity for the first time in what seemed like ages.

So what better time to have a fire drill? Especially since people don't complain as much about hurrying outdoors sans coats on a pleasant September morning!

There we all were, standing outside in the courtyard's sunshine, cracking jokes, greeting those we hadn't seen in a while, and responding to Barb's roll call, when Lucy* spied me and began to gesture that I come to her.

I've always felt a special connection to Lucy. She's non-verbal -- and I remember her from church when I was maybe ten or twelve years old. When she gets excited, she makes a sort of eehhhnnn, eehhhnnn sound, the meaning of which can be hard to decipher. But when I reached her side, she took my arm and pulled me down to her wheelchair level -- and delivered a great big warm hug.

There was no mistaking the meaning of the sounds she was making then. She was telling me, "I'm so glad to see you!"

And I told her that she made my day.

*I use pseudonyms for all of my friends with disabilities.

Ralph's Romas

I talk to my garden as I work in it... and imagine it might be funny for someone on the other side of the fence to hear me tell my strawberries to stop hiding when it's time to be picked, or explain to the pumpkins that they shouldn't be taking over the broad beans' patch. This week, they might have laughed to hear me exclaim over Ralph's tomatoes!

Ralph's banana tomatoes

Ralph is my Italian friend who lives about a block from me. Last fall, he gave me some plums and grapes from his yard, and I gave him some pears. His lovely wife, Lydia, poured me a glass of orange juice and we had a lovely visit at their kitchen table. Ralph told me that he had grown a seven-foot zucchini that put him on TV and in the papers some years ago, and showed me a five-foot one hanging from a vine on his greenhouse. We had a nice visit, and he promised me some cuttings from his grape vines in the spring.

So this spring, I went back to visit Ralph and get the grape cuttings, which are now doing quite well in my yard. I took him two of my heirloom tomato plants, and he gave me two banana tomato plants in return, and a few weeks later, two more plants that are now known as 'Ralph's Romas.' I suspect both are heirloom varieties that Ralph brought with him from Italy back in the '50s.

So I've been watching Ralph's Romas and bananas growing this summer, but I was paying more attention to the banana tomatoes because I've had Romas for years... and last night, when I was checking to see if any of the Romas were ripening, I got the surprise of my life. I knew there was one big one on there, and I told it, "Look at you, you're huge." It is -- the size of two of my fists held together. But then I peeked further under the plant and exclaimed, "Holy ....!!!" Hidden behind the big one was the mother of all tomatoes, the largest I've ever been able to grow, so big I can't get two hands around it.

Ralph's Romas

It seems Ralph's Romas don't want to let his zucchini put them to shame or something. I'll save seed from the monster/mother tomato, and make a whole pot of spaghetti sauce from it, I suspect. I'm guessing my rather ordinary heirloom tomato plants have no power to impress the Tomato and Zucchini King! But life isn't about impressing people... though his tomato varieties have impressed me! Thanks, Ralph!

The garden takes over my life

Twin squash! And more where they all came from!

Online moodling gets erratic when the garden is doing things like this. For the last few evenings, it's been processing time. Tonight I worked on pickles, jams, zucchinis and beans. There are already two pails of tomatoes in my freezer waiting to be turned into spaghetti sauce. I haven't even looked at the kale, broad beans, and beets, and the spaghetti squash is a story unto itself! In short, the garden has outdone itself this year, and I'm struggling to keep up. (Mom and Dad K., shall we bring you some spaghetti squash? Anything else??)

Even as I deal with produce, there's plenty of moodling going on in my head... and I promise, once the garden has been cleared out, more than video clips will appear here... Watch this space.

Some unusual Vivaldi on a Sunday

This past week, my wonderful mother-in-law sent me a link to Beethoven's 5th Symphony as rendered by a group called Carmel-A-Cappella (a fun name, don't you think? I like saying it with the emphasis misplaced, CarMELa CapPELLa, though I'm sure that's incorrect.) I was amazed by the video Mom sent, and thought I might share it via these moodlings... but then I did a little snooping around and found out a bit about Carmel-A-Cappella...

They're from Haifa, Israel, and they sing all sorts of a cappella music -- everything from Mozart to the Muppet's Theme. Here's a different video for Mom to enjoy -- a unique version of Vivaldi's Spring from the Four Seasons, which I find even more amazing because of the variety of vocalizations these women come up with. I can hear the birdsong the composer was trying to emulate even more clearly in these voices than in the strings on classical recordings, can't you? I suspect Antonio Lucio Vivaldi would be delighted! Enjoy!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Uxs5O6hMBvg

More non-violence, please

My journey into the practice of Voluntary Simplicity began with a weekend workshop entitled "Simplicity and Non-violence," led by Mark A. Burch. It focused on the meaning of voluntary simplicity and how it necessarily involves a deep commitment to non-violence. If we really want to keep our one and only beautiful planet in decent shape for future generations, we need to do our utmost to ensure that the choices we make now aren't harming the lives of others in the great web of life within which we are just one tiny part.

But human beings have become too accustomed to thinking of ourselves as the top of the food chain or the pinnacle of creation or whatever other superiority-complex phrase comes to mind... and as a result, our world is full of violence of many different kinds: social, spiritual, physical, racial, international... and on it goes. I've had my fill of it on the news lately. That's why I was delighted to run across this video of Julia Bacha, a film maker who is onto something. We need to focus on the planet's non-violent leaders and empower them wherever we can if we truly want to make a difference in a world weighed down by international media that focuses on sensational violence rather than those who are quietly making a difference and winning in more positive ways. Perhaps then the non-violent will be able to actually convert oppressors to working for the common good.

Julia Bacha says it much better than I do in this eleven-minute TED video.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iYwAMccbhYs

How do you support non-violence in your life? In the weeks ahead, I'm going to look out for things that I can do to reduce violence by my choices... If you have any to share, I'd love to hear them! Really! (It's been a while since anyone left a comment...)

Simple Suggestion #212... Meet a farmer or two...

I've taken a long break from my Simple Suggestions for making life easier on the planet and us, but I'm a long way from running out of them! They just keep coming, fast and furious, and I could probably post several a day... but my friend SuperSu does that already on Twitter (you can find her by clicking here), and besides, with various beds in the garden demanding the hands of a harvester, I don't have enough time for dealing with all that produce plus moodling AND tweeting! (Besides, I've never really gotten into Twitter much...)

Here's a suggestion for Albertans this weekend -- it's Open Farm Days August 23rd and 24th -- the weekend that farmers welcome visitors to meet them and learn about their operations and the local production of the food we eat. This video made my mouth water a few times... and has me hoping to spend Sunday visiting a few farms.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NNnTNBebcHA

For more information, check out http://www.albertafarmdays.com/. And if you're not from Alberta, check around and see if there isn't something similar in your neck of the woods. You might be happily surprised!

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

A harvest psalm

Evans cherries --
Thanks to my sisters for letting us pick!

You, O God,
are generous
beyond our understanding,
and abundant in love
beyond our belief.
We give you thanks
for the richness
and goodness of your creation
with which we have been blessed.
Help us to appreciate
the wealth in our midst
and put it to good use,
remembering
that we cannot lay claim to anything
except to share it
with those who hunger and thirst.
We praise you
for the abundance of your lavish love,
and we ask that it flow through us
to those who need it the most.

+AMEN.

Happiness is...

... the first bowl of our own strawberries.

I had to wear full combat gear in order to wrestle these away from the mosquitoes.

Only made them sweeter!

August garden report

It strikes me today that I haven't given a single garden report this summer for faraway family and friends. I'm almost afraid to because so many people I know have been hailed out, and it could happen here just as easily with global climate change creating these mega storms all over the place. But I braved the crazy mosquitoes to get these shots, so I won't be superstitious that this moodling will bring on bad weather. Here's what's going on in my yard, pictures in the order they were taken because I'm too hot to fuss about the order they're in...

Red peppers are still green...

Zinnias add a little colour...

My new favourite heirloom tomato, a Black Prince
(definitely a fruit, it's so sweet!)

Time to make some kale chips, yum!

Cukes are coming on fast and furious...

Strawberries are bigger than ever...

Squash and pumpkins are trying to take over the world...

I've never grown purple peas before (thanks for the seed, Darcy!)...

Carrots are doing well...

As are kohlrabi and beets...

Between Suzanna's herbs and Julia's tomatoes,
I think we might have some tasty bruschetta for supper tonight.

Already picked 4 gallons of beans, and there are more to come...

My favourite zinnias...

Cheerful heliopsis (false sunflower) near the front door...

Love those little monk's hoods...

And finally, the view from our "sitting stone." Unfortunately, if you sit very long, you have too many unwanted companions (mosquitoes). But I did sit and watch the bee balm's visitors (it's not named that for nothing!) until I got bitten. 

I guess that's the thing about organic gardens -- all creatures, great and small, are welcome! You included. Come visit, anytime!

DANCING on water...

Every time the gospel of Jesus walking on the water comes around, I'm afraid I zone out of what's happening at church and return to a favourite memory.

Some years ago, our family attended a production of The Cotton Patch Gospel -- sub-titled "The Greatest Story Ever Re-told." Basically, it's a bluegrass musical of the life of Christ set in the 1960s in Georgia. I'm not joking. It was performed at the Rosebud Theatre in Rosebud, AB, by five men with a lot of talent, each of them acting several different roles, singing close harmonies and playing different instruments.

The memory that distracts me from homilies and other goings on at mass is the scene from the production where Jesus, standing stage left, invites Peter, standing in the boat on on the stage right, to step over the side and come to him. But Jesus doesn't just invite Peter. He dances a little jig on the water, halfway across the stage to the boat and back to The Sailor's Hornpipe that he's playing on his banjo.

Of course, Peter and the disciples are astounded, mouths hanging open. So Jesus dances a little more, and a couple of the disciples get into the spirit, instruments kicking in as Jesus starts jigging and reeling to beat the band, reaching an arm out to Peter, encouraging him to join the dance. Peter's internal "Do-I-or-don't-I?" doesn't last long as Jesus, smiling broadly, steps up the pace. Cautiously, Peter climbs over the side, feels the water's solidity with one foot, then the other, straightens up, takes a tentative step away from the boat, and then a few more, as Jesus jigs a circle around him.

Before you know it, the two have joined hands and their feet are flying as they dance all over the "water" in a jubilant and rather hilarious parody of Michael Flatley's Lord of the Dance. The disciples are cheering and Peter is grinning wider and wider as he and Jesus sail about... and in the midst of everything, Jesus lets go to do a little dance solo to a bit of Duelling Banjos -- at the end of which he puts out his arms in an "over to you, Peter." So Peter gives 'er, clearly having the time of his life... until he realizes, like a cartoon character hanging in mid-air before falling down the Grand Canyon, that something isn't right. You can see him thinking, "Jesus is... way over there?? I'm dancing on water?? Isn't this impossible?? I don't know how to swim!!" And Peter sinks (plunges off the edge of the stage) and flounders until Jesus dances over, pulls him up, and walks his spluttering friend back to the boat.

No wonder I can't help but smile when I hear the reading... and think about how Jesus invites us all to trust, we of little faith. Only now I can't think so much about walking on water... If Jesus, the one who invites us to live life to the fullest, could walk on water, why wouldn't he dance? All I know is I wanna dance with Jesus, too!

It's been a while since I've had a jigging and reeling fix, so here's little one I just remembered -- Canada's own Natalie McMaster... and some very special guests. So cute!!! Happy Walking/Dancing on Water Sunday!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vh9i6vf0TlU 

The horrors of war on the France/Belgium Border

The only part of this summer's vacation that I haven't moodled about is the time we spent at Vimy Ridge in France and Ypres (Ieper) in Belgium. We chose to visit them because we wanted our girls to get a sense of war and its effects, so we left Paris a day early, and Belgium a day late.

Vimy Ridge is the site of an important WWI battlefield where Canadian troops succeeded in defeating the German forces along a seven kilometer front. A white marble monument now stands at Hill 145, the highest point of the area. Canadian troops spent months preparing for an attack which took place on April 9, 1917 by digging underground tunnels through which they reached and overran the German front. Though the assault was a success, 3,598 Canadians were killed, and over 7,000 were wounded. The names of 11, 285 Canadians who lost their lives in France and have no known graves are engraved on the sides of the Vimy monument.

While the monument itself is an amazing and inspiring thing, war is not. At Vimy we were able to walk down into the tunnels under the trenches, and I shivered to think about all those young men who waited in silence in the dark for many hours, knowing that at 5:30 am on April 9th, they would be expected to run up the tunnels to the German front and bayonet anyone they found alive after a two day shelling, and possibly be killed themselves. 

At the In Flanders Fields Museum in Ypres, there were many displays and videos telling the stories of soldiers and officers as well as ordinary citizens who became refugees during the worst days of the First World War. There were rather graphic displays of war wound x-rays and artistic representations of what it feels like to be injured in battle, with figures composed only of skeletal spinal cords with broken, disconnected jaw bones and naked eye balls moving around.

After a couple of hours in the museum's gloomy atmosphere, where so much destruction and loss was made evident, one of my daughters said she'd had enough. I wondered at the war video games our youth play and whether they'd be so popular if the kids had any sense of the reality of war. Pictures of the beautiful buildings in Ypres' town square ablaze and reduced to rubble made me wonder how we can bear to sit still as the same kinds of things happen in Palestine, Syria, Central Africa, and other war torn places around the world. When will human beings learn that militaristic power and fear don't bring about the kind of necessary change that compassion can?

Canada Bereft

The great wars fought in Europe have forever marred the landscape and the collective consciousness of those who live where the battles raged and those who lost loved ones to conflict. Monuments like Vimy Ridge and the Meningate in Ypres where The Last Post is played every night almost run the risk of romanticizing and glorifying large-scale human conflicts. But the In Flanders Fields Museum did an amazing job of showing the human cost of war, and the many war cemeteries carved into the farmland in Northern France and the Flanders region of Belgium are constant reminders that war is not glorious, but horrible, as are the very human stories and statistics from present day war torn regions.

A field of unknown soldiers

We owe it to future generations to ensure that they get the message that war and military might are not to be glorified, but abhorred.