All posts by GretchenJoanna

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About GretchenJoanna

Orthodox Christian, widowed in 2015; mother, grandmother. Love to read, garden, cook, write letters and a hundred other home-making activities.

Lenten Spring Things

It’s Lent now, so I think of everything in that context. Here in the Northern Hemisphere, at least some of us have Spring during Lent, so I want to note that in pictures.

 

What got me going was the graceful manzanita trees at the library yesterday. Theirs have white blossoms. When I came home, I wanted to take a picture of our backyard bush in pink.

 The photo shows the ubiquitous weeds and fallen pine needles that tell of my absence. That’s the snowball bush in the background; it hasn’t budded out yet.

After chilly weather, rain, and a bad cough kept me from even venturing into the garden for several weeks, suddenly one day the sun was shining and I was taking pictures of all the blossoms, the cherry plum tree and violets, too.

B. had been up the ladder pruning the wisteria on the arbor.

Many years I completely miss the violets, their visit is so brief.

Now, about Lent….I have to say I’m off to a disappointing start on several fronts. From one perspective, Lent seems long. That is, if one is thinking only of struggling and feeling defeated.

Or if one feels deprived, and is waiting for feasting to begin again. But Father Michael said Lent is not about deprivation, but rather, “Taste and see that the Lord is good.”

Which made me think of  Isaiah 55:2: “Wherefore do ye spend money for that which is not bread? and your labour for that which satisfieth not? hearken diligently unto me, and eat ye that which is good, and let your soul delight itself in fatness.”

Lent feels short, when I think how slow I am to get with the program of fattening my soul instead of my body. I will almost surely miss this brief opportunity, or at least, fail to make good use of it. I must try not to fret; but how to keep my trying from turning into more fretting…?

All these springtime blooms are helpful to look at, because they bring to mind another picture from Metropolitan Kallistos Ware: “Repentance is not self-flagellation; it is an opening flower.”

I know that my Heavenly Father clothes the lilies of the field, just as He will give me this day my daily bread, Himself my Bread of Life. Now if I will just pay attention and eat from the loaf that tastes good, and nourishes the soul.

Winter Weblog Gleanings

The Broken Computer has prolonged the interruption of my blogging, following hard as it did on the Expedition Without Camera Cable. I’ve been back from wandering for several days, but as I have a dear house guest it’s just as well that I have the machinery problem as my excuse for not blogging. When I get the computer back I’ll have even more things to tell about.

While I’m being otherwise occupied I’ve still found some time to read blogs, on son P’s computer. Posts that have been stimulating include one on Spring Cleaning, with a day-by-day plan carrying the author from one end of Lent to the other. This is a new concept for me, and truly inspiring. We are remodeling during the upcoming months at this house, though, so I will have to try her tidy method some other year, and concentrate on packing up many of my books and all of my kitchen things starting yesterday.

Is it easier to keep a small house clean? That depends. When our family of seven moved from a small house to a big one, suddenly our home seemed cleaner and neater just because there was more space. But the blog This Tiny House is delightful to dream over, the treehouses and little dwellings of various kinds. A recent post is about a tiny vehicle, actually, but might be a fine introduction if you’ve never visited there.

Many people, I’ve noticed, give up TV for Lent. I myself agree with Groucho Marx, who said he found TV very educational: “When someone turns on the TV, I go in the other room and read a book.” Whether you watch or not, you might agree with me that this verse by Roald Dahl is amusing.

A woman I know is trying to find a lot of cooking blogs, as she’s reveling in the idea and trend of Slow Food and recipes. It made me happy to point her to this blogger who opens up a full 60 other cooks’ worlds. Take note, all you snowed-in people (and that includes 3/5 of my own children!) that the theme of his recent group of links is Warming Dishes. Comfort food!

Last and most pertinent to this weekend, I’m sure, is a musing on Forgiveness Sunday.

I hope you enjoy one or more of my finds.

A Mystery of Cherries

Two days ago I set out on a journey, perhaps even an expedition. I forgot to bring my camera cable so I can’t start posting my travelogue. Unless…Unless I tell about something that happened before I started taking pictures, something that may not be related to anything else I’ve been doing.

I was not an hour from home, driving through a little rain, twisting and turning on a road that winds along the slopes of a volcanic mountain. Coming around a curve, I spied at a turnout a gallon jar that I am fairly certain was full of maraschino cherries. It was just sitting there neatly upright in the middle of the wide flat area of dirt. Of course my resourceful self said, “Stop! Someone has left a treasure for you.”

That thought was just a flash. There was no way to safely stop, and anyway, I certainly don’t need those confections, even if I could know they weren’t poisoned or something. But for miles and hours I kept returning to those red cherries in my mind, and wondering how their random appearance might eventually tie in to this whole trip. I normally like to see how everything does connect.

It might not be random; I looked that word up, because I rarely use it. Random means “occurring without definite aim, reason, or pattern.” I don’t know the story behind the event. Did someone have a reason for stopping and dropping off the jar? If it had simply fallen out of a vehicle it couldn’t have landed upright. I can be reasonably confident that there is no pattern to be discovered. Unfortunately my mind doesn’t naturally imagine stories to explain odd occurrences, so I can’t make use of this sighting in that creative way. At this point it doesn’t look like I will be able to fit an out-of-place jug of cherries into the flow of my journey. But there it was.

Doll in Blue

When I first saw the needle-felted dolls people were selling on the Internet it was love at first sight. I can look at pictures of them for hours, and I have dreamed of learning the art. My daughter also loved them; she is more likely to get around to teaching herself to create her own than I am.

At Christmas she gave me this exquisite example made in Israel. This little lady and her cat both have limbs that can be repositioned, and if he jumps out of her arms to go prowling about it will be o.k. I adore her fat red braids, which are set off nicely by that blue hat and dress.

So I have my own soft featherweight doll to hold in my hands, not just to look at. Certainly my feelings for her go beyond infatuation–I’m confident they will prove to be enduring devotion.