Category Archives: calendar

Months overthrown by a calendar.

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Redbud on my walk.

This is the season when every day’s wandering in the garden reveals sprouts and blossoms that startle me: Can this lithodora already be filled out, and I didn’t notice it happening? When did the coral bells get as high as my nose?

At church the scents of wisteria and other blossoms are heavy in the air, and when I walk to and from my car I have to slow down and focus on breathing as I make my way.

Maybe all of this botanical activity wouldn’t be as surprising if I’d been more attentive to the garden, but I’ve been restraining myself from going to the nursery or planting anything new just yet; the next month or so involves a lot of traveling, when I won’t be able to tend to anything. The reason for travel is, two of my grandsons will marry this spring, and one granddaughter. But in between the May weddings I hope to put a few zucchini seeds in the planter boxes where they will get automatic irrigation.

Wisteria at church.

The plant just above, I can’t remember the name of. [Mrs. Bread already looked in here and reminded me that it is Tasmanian Flax, Dianella tasmanica.] This one is at church, but Mrs. Bread gave me a specimen last year and I’ve planted it here; mine isn’t blooming yet. They eventually have berries that look like elongated dark purple grapes.

I bought one more wall calendar to help me do better at keeping track of where I am in time. I love having calendars and clocks all over the house. It’s from Beauty First Films and claims to promote “the overthrow of months.” I ordered it late, so we are already into Lent, which is revealed by this calendar to transcend the months, and to infuse the everyday chronos of life, emphasizing the gifts of the Church that lead to kairos. This year’s version also features the churches of Serbia:

Lithodora with Salvia behind.
Smallage

Many years ago Mrs. Bread and I split a six-pack of smallage plants. Then I re-landscaped and let mine go. She gave me a sprout from hers a year ago and it is Not Small At All now. I like having smallage around because it’s nice to put in soups, but I don’t really want to give a quarter of the planter box to it. Unfortunately, I think the boxes are the only place it would get the amount of watering it likes.

Swiss chard, on the other hand, I can’t have too much of. I procrastinated picking this crop for a couple of months, during which time a couple of snails fattened themselves on it. There was still plenty left for me, and I finally took off every last beautiful leaf from a dozen plants and cooked it all up. Most of it went into the pot to make my favorite lenten Garlicky Chard with Cannellinis. I’m showing the Italian Silver Rib Swiss Chard, but I actually harvested about twice as much Rhubarb Chard.

April may have rushed in to my life, but now that it’s here I’m pleasantly surprised that we’re only half way through the month. We Orthodox are more than half way to Pascha, which is also surprising. I can tell I was made for kairos, because I never can get used to this chronos life!

Fresh news just before publishing: My dear friend and brother in Christ, “Mr. Greenjeans,” who started me working in the church garden and taught me tons about plant and plant names; who for many years and several times a month made all the huge bowls of dough for our church prosphora bread; who got me literally up to speed chanting the Hours in church; who became an even closer friend since 2020 when he and his wife began hosting small tea-and-talk sessions at their house — That Friend no longer has to struggle in this chronos world, but has fallen asleep in death, has gone to his rest, to await the Resurrection. Memory Eternal!

Louise Bourgeois, Woman and Clock

Images of 2023

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I’ve enjoyed the very customized compilations on other blogs, of images and stories from the year just behind us. In attempting my own collection, I found it hard to choose just one picture from each month, of those already in my blog files. But as the year went…

In January, this fellow exercised himself very impressively to get at my suet feeder:


In February, I received a Valentine cookie gift from Colorado grandchildren. ❤


In March, my potted tarragon sprang up:

In April, a hike to the beach with family:

In May, our book group drank goat milk and ate goat cheese (yes, and pizza) while discussing Heidi:


In June, my garden bathed in the sunshine:


In July, I watched the rain from the porch of Kate’s Washington, D.C. home:


In August, I continued my (seeded) sourdough experiments:


In September, I played with my great-granddaughter at her uncle’s wedding:


In October, I went exploring in the woods with Pippin’s family:


In November, the zinnias kept blooming and blooming…


And in the last month of the year, my soul was filled by the Christ Child:

Happy New Year to you all!

Moons and hearts rise and fall.

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George MacDonald’s Diary of an Old Soul is a long poem with seven lines for each day of the year. You can find the whole thing at Project Gutenberg. Here are just the first five days/stanzas of “November,” in which MacDonald so richly describes the situation we often find ourselves in, our hearts weary and plodding, and our thoughts dull. He prays for strength to face the darkness, and to find Christ in it.  

1.
THOU art of this world, Christ. Thou know’st it all;
Thou know’st our evens, our morns, our red and gray;
How moons, and hearts, and seasons rise and fall;
How we grow weary plodding on the way;
Of future joy how present pain bereaves,
Rounding us with a dark of mere decay,
Tossed with a drift Of summer-fallen leaves.

2.
Thou knowest all our weeping, fainting, striving;
Thou know’st how very hard it is to be;
How hard to rouse faint will not yet reviving;
To do the pure thing, trusting all to thee;
To hold thou art there, for all no face we see;
How hard to think, through cold and dark and dearth,
That thou art nearer now than when eye-seen on earth.

3.
Have pity on us for the look of things,
When blank denial stares us in the face.
Although the serpent mask have lied before,
It fascinates the bird that darkling sings,
And numbs the little prayer-bird’s beating wings.
For how believe thee somewhere in blank space,
If through the darkness come no knocking to our door?

4.
If we might sit until the darkness go,
Possess our souls in patience perhaps we might;
But there is always something to be done,
And no heart left to do it. To and fro
The dull thought surges, as the driven waves fight
In gulfy channels. Oh! victorious one,
Give strength to rise, go out, and meet thee in the night.

5.
“Wake, thou that sleepest; rise up from the dead,
And Christ will give thee light.” I do not know
What sleep is, what is death, or what is light;
But I am waked enough to feel a woe,
To rise and leave death. Stumbling through the night,
To my dim lattice, O calling Christ! I go,
And out into the dark look for thy star-crowned head.

–George MacDonald

O Savior, grant blessings!

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“According to Holy Tradition, Christ entered the synagogue on September 1 to announce His mission to mankind (Luke 4:16-22). Quoting Isaiah 61:1-2, the Savior proclaimed,

‘The spirit of the Lord is upon Me; because He has anointed Me to preach the gospel to the poor; He has sent Me to proclaim release to captives, and recovering of sight to the blind, to set at liberty those who are oppressed, to proclaim the acceptable year of the Lord…’” oca

O Creator and Master of time and the ages,
Triune and Merciful God of all:
grant blessings for the course of this year,
and in Thy boundless mercy save those
who worship Thee and cry out in fear:
“O Savior, grant blessings to all mankind!”