Yesterday I downloaded John Mayer's album "Continuum." Wow.
Listen to "Belief."
"Belief is a beautiful armor
But makes for the heaviest sword
Like punching under water
You never can hit who you're trying for."
Anybody else see a hell of a church service hiding in there? I wish I didn't have to. . .
Thursday, July 24, 2008
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
"Bird-Doo"
When I was a Girl Scout in Kentucky, one summer I went to day camp. It was on a big farm. I don't remember a whole lot about it. We made God's Eyes. I think we cooked things in tin foil that turned out to be inedible. We camped out in a tent one night, and of course it rained.
By far, the most vivid memory for me – a budding foodie, even then – was the final night of camp when we put on a program and invited our families to the farm for a cookout. I was fascinated as I found out that we were going to cook an authentic Kentucky recipe called Burgoo. As they came and set up the huge iron pots over outdoor fires I was speechless. There must have been four or five pots that held at least 100 gallons each. We watched as they poured, measured and stirred those pots all day long with us as their helpers. It smelled heavenly! All day long I smelled the rich stew and got more and more hungry and impatient for my parents to arrive so we could taste what had tormented us all day.
I remember standing in line with my styrofoam bowl, eager for the line to move faster. We each got a serving and sat down on blankets to share our meal together. I dipped my spoon into the stew and raised that first bite, my mouth watering in anticipation. The hot liquid hit my tongue and I don't think I've ever been more disappointed! It was truly, madly, horrible!
There were tastes that I couldn't identify. . .it felt greasy in my mouth. I went away that night, hungry and dissatisfied. My expectations had not been met and I was a cranky girl.
What I know now is that Burgoo is a stew that is composed of wild game. Live and learn. . .
As we got in the car to go home after that terribly disappointing meal I informed my family that I had renamed the flagship food of the state of Kentucky. From that day forward it was no longer to be called Burgoo at our house. It's new name was Bird-Doo!
Just this weekend Ali and I went antiquing. I found this book that came home with me, to join the rest of the old Southern cookbooks in the collection.
It was published in 1936 by the Culinary Arts Press. The first recipe in the book is this:
Kentucky Burgoo
(This recipe makes 1200 gallons)
600 pounds meat
200 pounds fat hens
2000 pounds potatoes, peeled and diced
200 pounds onions
5 bushels cabbage, chopped
60 10-pound cans tomatoes
24 ten-pound cans puree of tomatoes
24 ten-pound cans carrots
18 ten-pound cans corn
Red pepper and salt to taste
Season with Worcestershire, Tabasco or A1 Sauce
Mix the ingredients, a little at a time, and cook outdoors in huge iron kettles over wood fires from 15-20 hours. Use squirrels in season. . .one dozen squirrels to each 100 gallons.
In my humble opinion, you can fancy it up with squirrels, possom, Tabasco or whatever other stuff you can find.
It's still Bird-Doo to me.
By far, the most vivid memory for me – a budding foodie, even then – was the final night of camp when we put on a program and invited our families to the farm for a cookout. I was fascinated as I found out that we were going to cook an authentic Kentucky recipe called Burgoo. As they came and set up the huge iron pots over outdoor fires I was speechless. There must have been four or five pots that held at least 100 gallons each. We watched as they poured, measured and stirred those pots all day long with us as their helpers. It smelled heavenly! All day long I smelled the rich stew and got more and more hungry and impatient for my parents to arrive so we could taste what had tormented us all day.
I remember standing in line with my styrofoam bowl, eager for the line to move faster. We each got a serving and sat down on blankets to share our meal together. I dipped my spoon into the stew and raised that first bite, my mouth watering in anticipation. The hot liquid hit my tongue and I don't think I've ever been more disappointed! It was truly, madly, horrible!
There were tastes that I couldn't identify. . .it felt greasy in my mouth. I went away that night, hungry and dissatisfied. My expectations had not been met and I was a cranky girl.
What I know now is that Burgoo is a stew that is composed of wild game. Live and learn. . .
As we got in the car to go home after that terribly disappointing meal I informed my family that I had renamed the flagship food of the state of Kentucky. From that day forward it was no longer to be called Burgoo at our house. It's new name was Bird-Doo!
Just this weekend Ali and I went antiquing. I found this book that came home with me, to join the rest of the old Southern cookbooks in the collection.
It was published in 1936 by the Culinary Arts Press. The first recipe in the book is this:
Kentucky Burgoo
(This recipe makes 1200 gallons)
600 pounds meat
200 pounds fat hens
2000 pounds potatoes, peeled and diced
200 pounds onions
5 bushels cabbage, chopped
60 10-pound cans tomatoes
24 ten-pound cans puree of tomatoes
24 ten-pound cans carrots
18 ten-pound cans corn
Red pepper and salt to taste
Season with Worcestershire, Tabasco or A1 Sauce
Mix the ingredients, a little at a time, and cook outdoors in huge iron kettles over wood fires from 15-20 hours. Use squirrels in season. . .one dozen squirrels to each 100 gallons.
In my humble opinion, you can fancy it up with squirrels, possom, Tabasco or whatever other stuff you can find.
It's still Bird-Doo to me.
Monday, July 21, 2008
Gravestones
One of the "extras" of having your partner into genealogy is that you spend a lot of time in graveyards. It's kind of cool really.
Ali has figured out that she's descended from one of the first families to settle in Hancock County. The McKinnis family came to Ohio from Scotland and claimed the area where Litzenberg Woods is today. In fact, the McKinnis Homestead at the park is part of her family history.
That's a pretty well-known park in the district. What is less well-known is that there is a cemetery near there, where most of the McKinnis clan is buried. It's called Indian Green and was the first cemetery in Hancock County. Years later, after Maple Grove was established, families were told to remove their dead from Indian Green. Most did, but the McKinnis' did not.
Sunday afternoon we discovered Indian Green.
It's quite beautiful, tucked away near the banks of the Blanchard River. Rather than being depressing, a cemetery that old is kind of peaceful. There are no "new" graves. Just lots of weathered sandstone monuments to people dead for more than a hundred years.
Some of the markers are more art than just memorial.
As we wandered the grounds, slowing looking at each of the 107 remaining plots there was one thing that we were puzzled about. All over the cemetery were sticks with feathers and a red pouch sticking out of the ground.
We knew it had something to do with Native American people. After we found this on ancestry.com it made much more sense.
"When the first settlers came into Liberty Township they found a tract of cleared land, covering about twelve acres, on the north bank of the Blanchard in Section 7, some of which had apparently been under cultivation, and was called by the pioneers "Indian Green." An Indian graveyard was located here, and also an orchard of plum trees, which supplied the neighbors with that fruit. Several pioneers have stated it was the general impression among the first settlers that an Indian village once flourished at this point. The Ottawas had two villages still farther down the river, in what is now Putnam County, and it is believed the Wyandots had a settlement at Indian Green, whence they were removed, in 1818, to Big Spring Reservation. It is a well attested fact that the Indians occasionally visited the old burying-ground, and guarded the remains of their ancestors buried here with jealous care. Mr. Poe says his father told him that a pioneer named Ellison settled with his family on this tract at an early day, and after building a cabin began the work of opening the graves for the purpose of obtaining the valuables supposed to be buried with the Indian dead. The Indians soon heard of this desecration, and at once visited Ellison, and so thoroughly frightened him by threats of retaliation that he deserted his cabin and "silently stole away." The wagon road along the north bank of the river passes through this old Indian cemetery, no trace of which now remains."
Notice the wording – "whence they were "removed" in 1818 to Big Spring Reservation." I did a little more research on my Ohio history and the move to Big Spring didn't last long. According to "Ohio History: The Scholarly Journal of the Ohio Historical Society," the sixteen thousand acre tract at Big Spring became the subject of the Treaty of January 19, 1832, negotiated at McCutcheonsville [McCutchenville], Ohio, by which the Wyandot did "forever cede and relinquish to the United States the reservation." The prologue asserted that the Wyandot were "fully convinced" they could not prosper and be happy "in their present situation in . . . Ohio, in the vicinity of a white population, which is continually increasing and crowding around them." Besides, "the morals of many of their people will be daily becoming more and more vitiated." This was an outright sale to the United States. This band of Wyandot were to remove to Canada or the Huron River region of Michigan, "or to any place they may obtain a right or privilege from other Indians to go."
I learned a lot from a short afternoon at a cemetery. And not all of it makes me proud.
Ali has figured out that she's descended from one of the first families to settle in Hancock County. The McKinnis family came to Ohio from Scotland and claimed the area where Litzenberg Woods is today. In fact, the McKinnis Homestead at the park is part of her family history.
That's a pretty well-known park in the district. What is less well-known is that there is a cemetery near there, where most of the McKinnis clan is buried. It's called Indian Green and was the first cemetery in Hancock County. Years later, after Maple Grove was established, families were told to remove their dead from Indian Green. Most did, but the McKinnis' did not.
Sunday afternoon we discovered Indian Green.
It's quite beautiful, tucked away near the banks of the Blanchard River. Rather than being depressing, a cemetery that old is kind of peaceful. There are no "new" graves. Just lots of weathered sandstone monuments to people dead for more than a hundred years.
Some of the markers are more art than just memorial.
As we wandered the grounds, slowing looking at each of the 107 remaining plots there was one thing that we were puzzled about. All over the cemetery were sticks with feathers and a red pouch sticking out of the ground.
We knew it had something to do with Native American people. After we found this on ancestry.com it made much more sense.
"When the first settlers came into Liberty Township they found a tract of cleared land, covering about twelve acres, on the north bank of the Blanchard in Section 7, some of which had apparently been under cultivation, and was called by the pioneers "Indian Green." An Indian graveyard was located here, and also an orchard of plum trees, which supplied the neighbors with that fruit. Several pioneers have stated it was the general impression among the first settlers that an Indian village once flourished at this point. The Ottawas had two villages still farther down the river, in what is now Putnam County, and it is believed the Wyandots had a settlement at Indian Green, whence they were removed, in 1818, to Big Spring Reservation. It is a well attested fact that the Indians occasionally visited the old burying-ground, and guarded the remains of their ancestors buried here with jealous care. Mr. Poe says his father told him that a pioneer named Ellison settled with his family on this tract at an early day, and after building a cabin began the work of opening the graves for the purpose of obtaining the valuables supposed to be buried with the Indian dead. The Indians soon heard of this desecration, and at once visited Ellison, and so thoroughly frightened him by threats of retaliation that he deserted his cabin and "silently stole away." The wagon road along the north bank of the river passes through this old Indian cemetery, no trace of which now remains."
Notice the wording – "whence they were "removed" in 1818 to Big Spring Reservation." I did a little more research on my Ohio history and the move to Big Spring didn't last long. According to "Ohio History: The Scholarly Journal of the Ohio Historical Society," the sixteen thousand acre tract at Big Spring became the subject of the Treaty of January 19, 1832, negotiated at McCutcheonsville [McCutchenville], Ohio, by which the Wyandot did "forever cede and relinquish to the United States the reservation." The prologue asserted that the Wyandot were "fully convinced" they could not prosper and be happy "in their present situation in . . . Ohio, in the vicinity of a white population, which is continually increasing and crowding around them." Besides, "the morals of many of their people will be daily becoming more and more vitiated." This was an outright sale to the United States. This band of Wyandot were to remove to Canada or the Huron River region of Michigan, "or to any place they may obtain a right or privilege from other Indians to go."
I learned a lot from a short afternoon at a cemetery. And not all of it makes me proud.
Saturday, July 19, 2008
Just an Idea
An idea I designed for a tattoo. The line would have to go down the middle of my back. I'm thinking that the block could go on my lower back.
Any thoughts? Which one do you like better? Neither? Why? Tell me what you think!
It's from Romans 5.
Friday, July 18, 2008
What Else to do with Walnuts!
When I was writing about walnuts yesterday I remembered a cookbook that my mother made for me in 1987. She gave it to me for Christmas and I think it's the only Christmas present I've ever received that made me cry. It's full of recipes and stories from my childhood and from foods that I loved. It's in her handwriting and contains recipes like Sugar Cookies from the playschool I went to twice a week when I was five.
The reason it came to mind was that I remembered this recipe when I was writing about walnuts.
It's for Applesauce Cake and the red writing beneath the recipe tells this story:
"This was Pop's favorite cake. Mother and I would hull walnuts every fall and our hands would be stained green and our faces spattered green for weeks just from getting the walnuts for this cake."
Here's the recipe.
Mix 1 cup sugar and 1/2 cup butter. Blend until light and creamy. Beat in 1 egg.
Sift (before measuring) 1 3/4 cups cake flour. Sift a little more flour over 1 cup raisins and 1 cup walnut meats. Resift remainder of flour with 1/2 t. salt, 1 t. baking soda, 1/2 t. cinnamon and 1/2 t. cloves.
Stir the sifted ingredients gradually into the butter mixture until the batter is smooth. Add raisins and nutmeats. Heat 1 cup thick applesauce and beat it into the batter.
Bake in a greased and floured 9" tube pan at 350 for 40 minutes.
The reason it came to mind was that I remembered this recipe when I was writing about walnuts.
It's for Applesauce Cake and the red writing beneath the recipe tells this story:
"This was Pop's favorite cake. Mother and I would hull walnuts every fall and our hands would be stained green and our faces spattered green for weeks just from getting the walnuts for this cake."
Here's the recipe.
Mix 1 cup sugar and 1/2 cup butter. Blend until light and creamy. Beat in 1 egg.
Sift (before measuring) 1 3/4 cups cake flour. Sift a little more flour over 1 cup raisins and 1 cup walnut meats. Resift remainder of flour with 1/2 t. salt, 1 t. baking soda, 1/2 t. cinnamon and 1/2 t. cloves.
Stir the sifted ingredients gradually into the butter mixture until the batter is smooth. Add raisins and nutmeats. Heat 1 cup thick applesauce and beat it into the batter.
Bake in a greased and floured 9" tube pan at 350 for 40 minutes.
Thursday, July 17, 2008
What To Do With Walnuts
When we moved into our house in March the first thing the next-door neighbors warned us about was the humongous tree in our back yard. It’s a walnut and it is so tall that it hangs over four of our neighbor’s yards. The very nice people next door offered to take the branches that had fallen out of it over the winter because walnut burns so nicely. We happily chucked the branches over the fence.
Then, dropping the first hint of what was to come, the nice neighbor said, “Good luck with that tree later this summer. Your yard will be like a circus for squirrels.”
“Why?” I innocently asked.
“Well, last year wasn’t a very good year for walnut trees. This year will probably be a doozy.”
Mr. Neighbor on the Right (I don’t know his name!) turns out to be a prophet!
This 60 foot high, probably 90 year old tree is so laden with walnuts that the branches are hanging so low it makes walking under it difficult. . .not to mention dangerous! The first of the squirrel squatters are moving in and taking up residence. They are beginning to make preparations for the harvest by digging hidey-holes in the brand new flower beds. I guess if it were up to them the entire yard would be planted with walnut trees!
It’s kind of exciting to see what’s going to happen with all these walnuts!
You think I'm kidding? This is one branch – ten walnuts in close up camera view!
I remember that my maternal grandparents had a walnut tree when I was a kid. I I helped my grandmother pick up the nuts and then we tried to take the hulls off. The hull is the greenish-yellow outside that covers the very hard shell that you have to crack to get to the actual nutmeat.
There are many methods to remove the hulls. . .none very easy and all very messy. (Familiar with black walnut stain?? It comes from the hulls!! And, no it does not wash off!) Here are a few ways to remove the hull:
1. Wearing a face mask and gloves, smash them with a hammer.
2. Put them in the driveway and run over them with the car for a few days. (This isn’t recommended if your neighbors’ windows are close to your driveway. . .I’m just saying.)
3. Use an antique, hand-crank corn sheller. (Yay! An excuse to go to the antique mall!)
4. Put the walnuts in a portable cement mixer with three parts walnuts, one part water, and a few handfuls of gravel. Run it until husks come off. (Anybody got one of these I can borrow?)
5. The craziest recommendation I came across was a guy who put 3 walnuts at a time in the garbage disposal and ran it for 20 seconds before reaching in to take the nuts out. He said to only do 50 or so at a time or you will burn your garbage disposal up. . .(not thinkin’ I’ll try that one.)
6. If you ever get them hulled, rinse the nuts off outside with a garden hose. They will also stain everything in sight.
Once they are hulled dump them into a five-gallon bucket full of water and stir. Change the water several times until it no longer looks like strong coffee. Good nuts will sink to the bottom. Floater nuts should be discarded – they are full of worms! Allow the freshly shelled walnuts to cure somewhere out of the sun for several weeks before beginning the actual work of cracking and eating them!
I know it sounds crazy but this is just the kind of nerdy thing I get excited about! Part pioneer, part adventure, part stubbornness! I won’t buy walnuts. . .but I will try getting some for free!
Based on the fifty-eleven thousand walnuts on my tree, anybody want some free walnuts in a month or so???
Then, dropping the first hint of what was to come, the nice neighbor said, “Good luck with that tree later this summer. Your yard will be like a circus for squirrels.”
“Why?” I innocently asked.
“Well, last year wasn’t a very good year for walnut trees. This year will probably be a doozy.”
Mr. Neighbor on the Right (I don’t know his name!) turns out to be a prophet!
This 60 foot high, probably 90 year old tree is so laden with walnuts that the branches are hanging so low it makes walking under it difficult. . .not to mention dangerous! The first of the squirrel squatters are moving in and taking up residence. They are beginning to make preparations for the harvest by digging hidey-holes in the brand new flower beds. I guess if it were up to them the entire yard would be planted with walnut trees!
It’s kind of exciting to see what’s going to happen with all these walnuts!
You think I'm kidding? This is one branch – ten walnuts in close up camera view!
I remember that my maternal grandparents had a walnut tree when I was a kid. I I helped my grandmother pick up the nuts and then we tried to take the hulls off. The hull is the greenish-yellow outside that covers the very hard shell that you have to crack to get to the actual nutmeat.
There are many methods to remove the hulls. . .none very easy and all very messy. (Familiar with black walnut stain?? It comes from the hulls!! And, no it does not wash off!) Here are a few ways to remove the hull:
1. Wearing a face mask and gloves, smash them with a hammer.
2. Put them in the driveway and run over them with the car for a few days. (This isn’t recommended if your neighbors’ windows are close to your driveway. . .I’m just saying.)
3. Use an antique, hand-crank corn sheller. (Yay! An excuse to go to the antique mall!)
4. Put the walnuts in a portable cement mixer with three parts walnuts, one part water, and a few handfuls of gravel. Run it until husks come off. (Anybody got one of these I can borrow?)
5. The craziest recommendation I came across was a guy who put 3 walnuts at a time in the garbage disposal and ran it for 20 seconds before reaching in to take the nuts out. He said to only do 50 or so at a time or you will burn your garbage disposal up. . .(not thinkin’ I’ll try that one.)
6. If you ever get them hulled, rinse the nuts off outside with a garden hose. They will also stain everything in sight.
Once they are hulled dump them into a five-gallon bucket full of water and stir. Change the water several times until it no longer looks like strong coffee. Good nuts will sink to the bottom. Floater nuts should be discarded – they are full of worms! Allow the freshly shelled walnuts to cure somewhere out of the sun for several weeks before beginning the actual work of cracking and eating them!
I know it sounds crazy but this is just the kind of nerdy thing I get excited about! Part pioneer, part adventure, part stubbornness! I won’t buy walnuts. . .but I will try getting some for free!
Based on the fifty-eleven thousand walnuts on my tree, anybody want some free walnuts in a month or so???
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
An Old Friend
I've found an old friend. . .
I haven't knit a lot since we moved into our new house in March. There was just so much to do to get settled in. Then I found some new and interesting activities like sewing and beading that I dabbled in for awhile. But a few weeks ago I returned to my old friends the knitting needles.
This is what brought me back.
As Republicans tell me that this economic downturn is "all in my head" and the price of everything continues to climb while my wages do not, it's easy to get overwhelmed. The cost to heat our homes this winter is estimated to rise as much as 30% in some parts of the United States. It's becoming more and more common for people to keep the thermostats in their homes set below 60 degrees in the winter. For some of us, all of this is just an inconvenience and an aggravation. For others in our communities, this is a crisis.
I can't solve this energy mess. But I can knit warm things. So, I do. And I have to believe that it will make a difference, not just for an individual, but someone it can help the world.
I finished this very large scarf/shawl yesterday afternoon and it's already on its way to Maine. I pray that it warms that heart and body of someone very special this winter!
I haven't knit a lot since we moved into our new house in March. There was just so much to do to get settled in. Then I found some new and interesting activities like sewing and beading that I dabbled in for awhile. But a few weeks ago I returned to my old friends the knitting needles.
This is what brought me back.
As Republicans tell me that this economic downturn is "all in my head" and the price of everything continues to climb while my wages do not, it's easy to get overwhelmed. The cost to heat our homes this winter is estimated to rise as much as 30% in some parts of the United States. It's becoming more and more common for people to keep the thermostats in their homes set below 60 degrees in the winter. For some of us, all of this is just an inconvenience and an aggravation. For others in our communities, this is a crisis.
I can't solve this energy mess. But I can knit warm things. So, I do. And I have to believe that it will make a difference, not just for an individual, but someone it can help the world.
I finished this very large scarf/shawl yesterday afternoon and it's already on its way to Maine. I pray that it warms that heart and body of someone very special this winter!
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
More Thoughts on Prayer & Stones
As I continue to use my strand of prayer beads I am amazed at the ways God uses even the smallest objects to communicate in our world. As I was meditating and using the beads for breath prayer this morning I was looking out the window in my small meditation corner. It looks into the flower garden where more and more plants continue to emerge and show their glory to the world. There was a finch in the lilac bush and I could hear a cardinal not far away. On each breath I repeated my silent chant – "I AM" – the Old Testament name for God.
My mind was clear. My fingers were slowing traveling around the circle of the Rosary I created. I felt peaceful and embraced by God's love.
As my meditation time ended I was aware that two Bible passages had come to mind. I think both are related to this idea of using stones as a prayer tool. The first is from Jesus' entry into Jerusalem, on what we would celebrate as Palm Sunday.
"Right at the crest, where Mount Olives begins its descent, the whole crowd of disciples burst into enthusiastic praise over all the mighty works they had witnessed:
Blessed is he who comes,
the king in God's name!
All's well in heaven!
Glory in the high places!
Some Pharisees from the crowd told him, "Teacher, get your disciples under control!" But he said, "If they kept quiet, even the stones would shout out, crying praise."
The second passage that came to mind is from 1 Peter 2 – "You also, like living stones, are being built into a spiritual house to be a holy priesthood."
Prayer is so personal and so holy. Listening for God to speak to me has become so much more important than whatever it is that I might have to say to God, most of which is selfish and small. I think perhaps that these two passages will become part of my next prayer for the Anglican Rosary – as each small stone slips through my fingers.
Kimberly Winston, the author of the book "Bead One, Pray Too" that I referenced in yesterday's post left a very gracious compliment in yesterday's comments. She also posted a link on her website www.kimberlywinston.wordpress.com linking here! Visit her website. . .it's full of prayers and inspirations!
My mind was clear. My fingers were slowing traveling around the circle of the Rosary I created. I felt peaceful and embraced by God's love.
As my meditation time ended I was aware that two Bible passages had come to mind. I think both are related to this idea of using stones as a prayer tool. The first is from Jesus' entry into Jerusalem, on what we would celebrate as Palm Sunday.
"Right at the crest, where Mount Olives begins its descent, the whole crowd of disciples burst into enthusiastic praise over all the mighty works they had witnessed:
Blessed is he who comes,
the king in God's name!
All's well in heaven!
Glory in the high places!
Some Pharisees from the crowd told him, "Teacher, get your disciples under control!" But he said, "If they kept quiet, even the stones would shout out, crying praise."
The second passage that came to mind is from 1 Peter 2 – "You also, like living stones, are being built into a spiritual house to be a holy priesthood."
Prayer is so personal and so holy. Listening for God to speak to me has become so much more important than whatever it is that I might have to say to God, most of which is selfish and small. I think perhaps that these two passages will become part of my next prayer for the Anglican Rosary – as each small stone slips through my fingers.
Kimberly Winston, the author of the book "Bead One, Pray Too" that I referenced in yesterday's post left a very gracious compliment in yesterday's comments. She also posted a link on her website www.kimberlywinston.wordpress.com linking here! Visit her website. . .it's full of prayers and inspirations!
Monday, July 14, 2008
Praying with Stones
I've written before about the ways that I struggle with silent prayer. My mind wanders. I lose focus. It feels too "free for all" when what I need is something more structured. I had read about an Episcopal priest, Rev. C. Lynn Bauman, from Texas who, with his contemplative prayer group, created a set of prayer beads they called the Anglican Rosary. The group wanted an experimental way to pray but didn't necessarily want to follow the Catholic traditions of praying to Mary and the saints. I was intrigued.
On Saturday, at the library I found this book:
"Bead One, Pray Too: A Guide to Making and Using Prayer Beads" by Kimberly Winston
On Sunday afternoon I created these.
The large stone at the bottom is usually a cross. I didn't have one in my bead stash so I substituted a large oval of agate. Agate was worn on the breastplate of soldiers in the Old Testament, with the Bible specifically mentioning it in Aaron's breastplate. In folklore, agate is the stone of truth, and wearing it is supposed to insure that one's words are sincere.
The next bead moving up the tail of the prayer strand is the invitatory bead. It's purpose is to ask God to hear us as we pray.
After the invitatory bead, we move around the circle. There are 32 main beads in the circle, with small spacer beads mixed in. There are four groups of seven beads each, separated by four larger beads, one between each set of seven. There is much symbolism in the design. Seven is the Biblical number of perfection and the number that represents God. There were seven days of creation. It's the number of seasons in the church calendar and the number of church sacraments. There are also seven days in the week, and hopefully, seven is the number of days that we pray! Consequently, these groups of seven beads are called "weeks."
The four larger beads are called "cruciform" beads. If you drew an imaginary line across the circle from cruciform beads at opposite sides, you would have the outline of the cross. Four is also a symbolic number – seasons, elements, directions, Gospels. All of these form the foundations of our faith and life.
Jesus is also remembered in the total number of beads – 33. This represents the number of years Jesus lived on the earth.
The thing I like best about the Anglican Rosary is that it is completely free form with respect to the way you can pray with it. Unlike the Catholic Rosary with its prescribed prayers, this set of beads can be used for everything from single word breath prayers to complex meditations. It's completely up to the user.
For now, these are the prayers I'm using. I'm sure they will change, season by season.
The Cross:
Romans 8:37-39
The Invitatory:
May the eye of God dwell upon me. May the feet of Christ guide me. May the shower of the Spirit rain upon me. Creator, Redeemer, Sustainer. Amen.
The Weeks: pray each phrase on a separate bead
Love the Lord your God
With all your heart
With all your soul
With all your mind
With all your strength.
This is the first and greatest commandment. The second is this:
Love your neighbor as yourself.
Cruciform 1:
Micah 6:8
Cruciform 2:
Romans 8:28
Cruciform 3:
Romans 12:2
Cruciform 4:
Matthew 16:24-26
I'm really enjoying just carrying these beads in my pocket and praying with them in the moments that make themselves available. It feels very centering, peaceful and whole.
A person very dear to me is having surgery in a few weeks. I'm working on finding beads with the perfect symbolism of healing and strength to create a set for him. I hope they will bring him moments of comfort and peace as well.
On Saturday, at the library I found this book:
"Bead One, Pray Too: A Guide to Making and Using Prayer Beads" by Kimberly Winston
On Sunday afternoon I created these.
The large stone at the bottom is usually a cross. I didn't have one in my bead stash so I substituted a large oval of agate. Agate was worn on the breastplate of soldiers in the Old Testament, with the Bible specifically mentioning it in Aaron's breastplate. In folklore, agate is the stone of truth, and wearing it is supposed to insure that one's words are sincere.
The next bead moving up the tail of the prayer strand is the invitatory bead. It's purpose is to ask God to hear us as we pray.
After the invitatory bead, we move around the circle. There are 32 main beads in the circle, with small spacer beads mixed in. There are four groups of seven beads each, separated by four larger beads, one between each set of seven. There is much symbolism in the design. Seven is the Biblical number of perfection and the number that represents God. There were seven days of creation. It's the number of seasons in the church calendar and the number of church sacraments. There are also seven days in the week, and hopefully, seven is the number of days that we pray! Consequently, these groups of seven beads are called "weeks."
The four larger beads are called "cruciform" beads. If you drew an imaginary line across the circle from cruciform beads at opposite sides, you would have the outline of the cross. Four is also a symbolic number – seasons, elements, directions, Gospels. All of these form the foundations of our faith and life.
Jesus is also remembered in the total number of beads – 33. This represents the number of years Jesus lived on the earth.
The thing I like best about the Anglican Rosary is that it is completely free form with respect to the way you can pray with it. Unlike the Catholic Rosary with its prescribed prayers, this set of beads can be used for everything from single word breath prayers to complex meditations. It's completely up to the user.
For now, these are the prayers I'm using. I'm sure they will change, season by season.
The Cross:
Romans 8:37-39
The Invitatory:
May the eye of God dwell upon me. May the feet of Christ guide me. May the shower of the Spirit rain upon me. Creator, Redeemer, Sustainer. Amen.
The Weeks: pray each phrase on a separate bead
Love the Lord your God
With all your heart
With all your soul
With all your mind
With all your strength.
This is the first and greatest commandment. The second is this:
Love your neighbor as yourself.
Cruciform 1:
Micah 6:8
Cruciform 2:
Romans 8:28
Cruciform 3:
Romans 12:2
Cruciform 4:
Matthew 16:24-26
I'm really enjoying just carrying these beads in my pocket and praying with them in the moments that make themselves available. It feels very centering, peaceful and whole.
A person very dear to me is having surgery in a few weeks. I'm working on finding beads with the perfect symbolism of healing and strength to create a set for him. I hope they will bring him moments of comfort and peace as well.
Friday, July 11, 2008
Recycling
One of my methods of operating is to bite more than I can chew. I start projects that are far too complex for my limited skills. I start an exercise routine that is much too ambitious. I dream up plans and ideas that can't possibly be implemented. And, when my grand plans and schemes don't turn out the way I dreamed they would I get frustrated and never finish.
I like to think that I've curbed that little quirk as I've matured. I think we shall soon see. . .
I fell in love with this quilt:
It's made up of alternating 7" squares of a single pattern with squares cut from vintage sheets. Ever since I saw that picture I've been scouring second-hand stores for floral sheets from the 1970's and earlier. I have 27 different patterns. It's recycling at it's most fun!
Here's the start of my vintage sheet quilt:
I really don't have much of a clue what I'm doing. I do know that it will be 98x84, the dimensions to hang over the edges of a queen size bed. It will have 14 rows of 12 squares each. Cuddling up on the couch with a big warm blanket is my idea of a perfect winter evening so I didn't want to skimp on the size of this thing!
Of course I've never made a quilt before so I don't have the slightest idea how to bind it, or even quilt it for that matter! But I'm sure that I can figure it out.
The other reason that I'm excited about this quilt is that, in the past, I would have started my quilting adventures with something like this:
This time, maybe I'll have enough sense to make that my second quilt. . .
I like to think that I've curbed that little quirk as I've matured. I think we shall soon see. . .
I fell in love with this quilt:
It's made up of alternating 7" squares of a single pattern with squares cut from vintage sheets. Ever since I saw that picture I've been scouring second-hand stores for floral sheets from the 1970's and earlier. I have 27 different patterns. It's recycling at it's most fun!
Here's the start of my vintage sheet quilt:
I really don't have much of a clue what I'm doing. I do know that it will be 98x84, the dimensions to hang over the edges of a queen size bed. It will have 14 rows of 12 squares each. Cuddling up on the couch with a big warm blanket is my idea of a perfect winter evening so I didn't want to skimp on the size of this thing!
Of course I've never made a quilt before so I don't have the slightest idea how to bind it, or even quilt it for that matter! But I'm sure that I can figure it out.
The other reason that I'm excited about this quilt is that, in the past, I would have started my quilting adventures with something like this:
This time, maybe I'll have enough sense to make that my second quilt. . .
Thursday, July 10, 2008
Who Do You Think You Are?
When I was a little girl and I backtalked my mother she would always ask me, “Little girl. . .who do you think you are?”
She meant that I was getting a bit too big for my britches. It always made me angry when she asked me that. It made me feel like I was somehow diminished as a person. Like I didn’t matter or I didn’t have a right to stand up for myself.
As soon as she would turn her back or leave the room I would silently mouth the words, “I’m Tanya Michelle. . .who do you think YOU are??” I'm sure she probably heard me, and like every mother, laughed all the way out of the room.
As I work towards simplifying my life and creating space for the sacred to work in me I’ve gone back to this question from my mother. “Little girl. . .who do you think you are?” but this time in a much more gentle way.
Who am I? What is true about me? What do I know of my own truth? What does God know about me?
When all of the noise finally calms down all that is left is what theologians and ancient mystics would call spiritual poverty – the essence being that, at some point in our lives, you and I really own who we are. We own up to our shortcomings, our mistakes, our missteps and our out and out rebellions.
We stop pretending and covering up. We stop lying and putting on a good face for everyone to see. We tell the truth about our lives and we ask for help. We ask for forgiveness, not just from those we have hurt, but from our Creator and Sustainer.
Spiritual poverty is getting comfortable in our skin. It’s taking a deep breath and letting go.
Spiritual poverty is learning to live in reality.
It was in early September of 2002 that I finally had the courage to force my parents to acknowledge my sexual orientation. I had lived with the same woman for the previous 17 years and she had never accompanied me to a family Christmas. My family never asked about her. When I was home we never talked about anything more profound than the weather for fear the conversation would lead to a place of discomfort – both for them and for me.
Forcing the issue with them was horrible. Of all the ways it could have turned out as I imagined the scene beforehand, it was worse. There was anger and shouting. There were threats and tears.
We haven’t spoken since.
All I wanted was to tell the truth. My truth.
In many ways it was the worst day of my life. Yet, in the miraculous way that life and the sacred works, it was also the best day of my life. I could have run all the way from Cincinnati to Toledo that late summer afternoon, I felt so light and free.
Since then, I’ve been passionate about seeking and telling truth. I’ve been passionate about learning to live in reality, not in the fiction that we and others create to impress. I’ve tried my best to cultivate spiritual poverty and accept my truth and others’ truth so that I can live in humbleness and peace.
One of the things that has bothered my all my life are the circumstances surrounding my birth. I’ve written about it before. I don’t know why I’m bothered by it, but I don't think I need to apologize for wanting to know the truth.
Now I know. I contacted the Tennessee Department of Vital Records and they sent me this Marriage Certificate dated September 3, 1964 – six months and twelve days before the day of my birth.
Do I feel better since I know the truth? Yes. Do I care that my parents created me before they were married? Hell no.
I mostly feel sad that they felt as though they had to hide something so simple and commonplace. I feel saddened by the burden that carrying this around must have been for them. I feel sad that they obviously felt shame when none was necessary.
But the irony of the whole situation isn’t lost on me. My parents walked away when I spoke my truth. I won’t. I wait. And now I know at least a little piece of their truth.
“Little girl. . .who do you think you are?” I can answer it a bit more now.
I am the imperfect daughter of imperfect people – all of us created, redeemed and sustained by a loving God.
She meant that I was getting a bit too big for my britches. It always made me angry when she asked me that. It made me feel like I was somehow diminished as a person. Like I didn’t matter or I didn’t have a right to stand up for myself.
As soon as she would turn her back or leave the room I would silently mouth the words, “I’m Tanya Michelle. . .who do you think YOU are??” I'm sure she probably heard me, and like every mother, laughed all the way out of the room.
As I work towards simplifying my life and creating space for the sacred to work in me I’ve gone back to this question from my mother. “Little girl. . .who do you think you are?” but this time in a much more gentle way.
Who am I? What is true about me? What do I know of my own truth? What does God know about me?
When all of the noise finally calms down all that is left is what theologians and ancient mystics would call spiritual poverty – the essence being that, at some point in our lives, you and I really own who we are. We own up to our shortcomings, our mistakes, our missteps and our out and out rebellions.
We stop pretending and covering up. We stop lying and putting on a good face for everyone to see. We tell the truth about our lives and we ask for help. We ask for forgiveness, not just from those we have hurt, but from our Creator and Sustainer.
Spiritual poverty is getting comfortable in our skin. It’s taking a deep breath and letting go.
Spiritual poverty is learning to live in reality.
It was in early September of 2002 that I finally had the courage to force my parents to acknowledge my sexual orientation. I had lived with the same woman for the previous 17 years and she had never accompanied me to a family Christmas. My family never asked about her. When I was home we never talked about anything more profound than the weather for fear the conversation would lead to a place of discomfort – both for them and for me.
Forcing the issue with them was horrible. Of all the ways it could have turned out as I imagined the scene beforehand, it was worse. There was anger and shouting. There were threats and tears.
We haven’t spoken since.
All I wanted was to tell the truth. My truth.
In many ways it was the worst day of my life. Yet, in the miraculous way that life and the sacred works, it was also the best day of my life. I could have run all the way from Cincinnati to Toledo that late summer afternoon, I felt so light and free.
Since then, I’ve been passionate about seeking and telling truth. I’ve been passionate about learning to live in reality, not in the fiction that we and others create to impress. I’ve tried my best to cultivate spiritual poverty and accept my truth and others’ truth so that I can live in humbleness and peace.
One of the things that has bothered my all my life are the circumstances surrounding my birth. I’ve written about it before. I don’t know why I’m bothered by it, but I don't think I need to apologize for wanting to know the truth.
Now I know. I contacted the Tennessee Department of Vital Records and they sent me this Marriage Certificate dated September 3, 1964 – six months and twelve days before the day of my birth.
Do I feel better since I know the truth? Yes. Do I care that my parents created me before they were married? Hell no.
I mostly feel sad that they felt as though they had to hide something so simple and commonplace. I feel saddened by the burden that carrying this around must have been for them. I feel sad that they obviously felt shame when none was necessary.
But the irony of the whole situation isn’t lost on me. My parents walked away when I spoke my truth. I won’t. I wait. And now I know at least a little piece of their truth.
“Little girl. . .who do you think you are?” I can answer it a bit more now.
I am the imperfect daughter of imperfect people – all of us created, redeemed and sustained by a loving God.
Wednesday, July 09, 2008
Wanna Play?
Wanna play a game? It's kind of fun!
The answers to the questions make an interesting visual display. Here are the rules:
A. Type your answer to each of the questions below into Flickr Search.
B. Using only the first page that appears, pick an image.
C. Copy and paste each of the URLs for the images into fd's mosaic maker.
Here are the questions:
1. What is your first name? Tanya
2. What is your favorite food? Anything Thai
3. What high school did you go to? Ayersville High School
4. What is your favorite color? Orange
5. Who is your celebrity crush? Jodie Foster
6. Favorite drink? Water
7. Dream vacation? Cape Cod
8. Favorite dessert? Pie
9. What you wanted to be when you grow up? Colorful
10. What do you love most in life? Truth
11. One Word to describe you? Peaceful
12. Flickr name? withheld for privacy reasons
Tuesday, July 08, 2008
Gettin' "Reel" with the Lawn
I read somewhere a while back that running a standard push mower for one hour emits the same amount of pollution as six cars in the same time period. I just found that to be phenomenal.
So, when our trusty push mower died last week from a bad carbeurator (thanks for the diagnosis Scott!) we decided to go a bit more green. With the price of gas, the amount of pollution and the stress of having machines break down (our central air died but that's another story. . .) we started considering a reel type mower.
I have mixed feelings about the thing. Having mowed grass for a living for a year I'm not terribly impressed. If I were my customer I wouldn't have paid me for that mow job. However, our grass was really long yesterday so I'm trying to reserve my judgment until we've given it a fair chance. It just didn't cut very evenly and had to be done twice.
A reel mower runs completely on your pushing power. It's the kind of lawn mower you probably pushed at your Grampa's house! We were sweating by the time our little patch of earth was trimmed nicely.
I was still having a few doubts about the new plan until this morning. I listened to Texas oil man T. Boone Pickens on "Good Morning America" and then on NPR in the car on the way to work. He explained supply and demand in the oil market in a way that I finally understood it. Then he said that you and I, by continuing to buy oil to fill our cars (and lawnmowers), are financing both sides of the war in Iraq. . .
So, when you weigh it all out:
Get fit. Save money. Go green. Make a small, concrete stand for peace in our world.
I think a little sweat and some uneven grass is worth it!
So, when our trusty push mower died last week from a bad carbeurator (thanks for the diagnosis Scott!) we decided to go a bit more green. With the price of gas, the amount of pollution and the stress of having machines break down (our central air died but that's another story. . .) we started considering a reel type mower.
I have mixed feelings about the thing. Having mowed grass for a living for a year I'm not terribly impressed. If I were my customer I wouldn't have paid me for that mow job. However, our grass was really long yesterday so I'm trying to reserve my judgment until we've given it a fair chance. It just didn't cut very evenly and had to be done twice.
A reel mower runs completely on your pushing power. It's the kind of lawn mower you probably pushed at your Grampa's house! We were sweating by the time our little patch of earth was trimmed nicely.
I was still having a few doubts about the new plan until this morning. I listened to Texas oil man T. Boone Pickens on "Good Morning America" and then on NPR in the car on the way to work. He explained supply and demand in the oil market in a way that I finally understood it. Then he said that you and I, by continuing to buy oil to fill our cars (and lawnmowers), are financing both sides of the war in Iraq. . .
So, when you weigh it all out:
Get fit. Save money. Go green. Make a small, concrete stand for peace in our world.
I think a little sweat and some uneven grass is worth it!
Monday, July 07, 2008
Thursday, July 03, 2008
Happy Fourth of July!
We are getting ready to head out for the long weekend to Johnson Island on Lake Erie. I'm looking forward to getting out of town and just relaxing with family. We have all the essentials – the cornhole game we just built (yes. . .using power tools!), bikes, puzzles, knitting and the dog!
Here are a few pictures from last year. Hope this year is just as much fun!
I hope you have a restful and joy filled holiday weekend!
Here are a few pictures from last year. Hope this year is just as much fun!
I hope you have a restful and joy filled holiday weekend!
Wednesday, July 02, 2008
Body Battles
I've been having issues with body image lately. What woman doesn't?
So, I'm trying to eat better. And at least walk the dog. . .probably more for his sake and the sake of the furniture he's been chewing when he's bored than for myself. But hey, whatever works right?
Then I did a dumb thing.
I went online trying to figure out some kind of weight loss shortcut. Yeah, I know. . .there is no such thing. . .but the lure of a miracle is just too much to pass up sometimes isn't it?? After all, if simply OWNING exercise equipment did the trick I would weigh about 34 pounds at this point in my life.
All the "beauty magazines" tell you that the simplest way to appear thinner is to wear the right kind of clothes for your body type. Of course! Now there's a shortcut I can love!
It's not as simple to figure out your body type one might think. I went to site after site and learned that there are four bodies that women come in. (That's all??? FOUR types???)
First up is the hourglass:
Hourglass: "Women with an hourglass shape are often envied by all of their friends. This is because hourglasses have well-proportioned upper and lower bodies, with a distinctively narrow waist. However, if you are an hourglass, you may find that you tend to gain weight all over your body, particularly in your hips and chest area."
This is most certainly not me. . .
The next one is even less descriptive of me.
Ruler: "Women with a ruler shape tend to be waif-like and slim. Rulers have no large differences between the size of their hips, waists, and shoulders. Rulers tend to put on weight in their stomach and backside, while maintaining slender arms and legs."
Ever seen a ruler with big boobs??? Me either!
Forging ahead – perhaps I'm a pear.
Pear: "Pear-shaped women tend to have larger lower bodies and smaller upper bodies. If you are a pear, you will find that your hips are slightly wider than your shoulders and that you tend to gain weight below your waist. Pears usually have small chests and flat stomachs."
That is so not me it made me laugh! Small chest. . .flat stomach. . .
Apple anyone?
Apple: "Apples are generally bigger on the top half of their bodies than on the bottom half. They commonly have slim hips and a large chest and stomach. Apples tend to gain weight above the waist or along the backside."
We're getting closer but I still don't see myself in that description.
I would like to propose that there is yet a FIFTH body type out there. Undiscovered by personal trainers and fashion gurus, I have found the perfect image of my body and perhaps millions of other women over forty. Ladies and gentlemen I present to you:
The SWEET POTATO!
Let the marketing begin. . .
So, I'm trying to eat better. And at least walk the dog. . .probably more for his sake and the sake of the furniture he's been chewing when he's bored than for myself. But hey, whatever works right?
Then I did a dumb thing.
I went online trying to figure out some kind of weight loss shortcut. Yeah, I know. . .there is no such thing. . .but the lure of a miracle is just too much to pass up sometimes isn't it?? After all, if simply OWNING exercise equipment did the trick I would weigh about 34 pounds at this point in my life.
All the "beauty magazines" tell you that the simplest way to appear thinner is to wear the right kind of clothes for your body type. Of course! Now there's a shortcut I can love!
It's not as simple to figure out your body type one might think. I went to site after site and learned that there are four bodies that women come in. (That's all??? FOUR types???)
First up is the hourglass:
Hourglass: "Women with an hourglass shape are often envied by all of their friends. This is because hourglasses have well-proportioned upper and lower bodies, with a distinctively narrow waist. However, if you are an hourglass, you may find that you tend to gain weight all over your body, particularly in your hips and chest area."
This is most certainly not me. . .
The next one is even less descriptive of me.
Ruler: "Women with a ruler shape tend to be waif-like and slim. Rulers have no large differences between the size of their hips, waists, and shoulders. Rulers tend to put on weight in their stomach and backside, while maintaining slender arms and legs."
Ever seen a ruler with big boobs??? Me either!
Forging ahead – perhaps I'm a pear.
Pear: "Pear-shaped women tend to have larger lower bodies and smaller upper bodies. If you are a pear, you will find that your hips are slightly wider than your shoulders and that you tend to gain weight below your waist. Pears usually have small chests and flat stomachs."
That is so not me it made me laugh! Small chest. . .flat stomach. . .
Apple anyone?
Apple: "Apples are generally bigger on the top half of their bodies than on the bottom half. They commonly have slim hips and a large chest and stomach. Apples tend to gain weight above the waist or along the backside."
We're getting closer but I still don't see myself in that description.
I would like to propose that there is yet a FIFTH body type out there. Undiscovered by personal trainers and fashion gurus, I have found the perfect image of my body and perhaps millions of other women over forty. Ladies and gentlemen I present to you:
The SWEET POTATO!
Let the marketing begin. . .
Tuesday, July 01, 2008
Lunch Bag
It all started because my Lean Cuisine frozen lunches wouldn't fit in my lunch box. . .
So, following this tutorial – I made this!
The two remnants of material were $2 at my favorite thrift store. The outside fabric is very fun flowers and the inside is a lightweight denim! It took me about an hour and a half to sew minus the time I got distracted while Ali and I were watching the Olympic swimming trials on Saturday.
It's way more heavy duty than a plastic grocery sack. When we went grocery shopping on Sunday we took it, along with our Trader Joe reusable bags and got a whole week's worth of groceries in three bags!
Not only will my Lean Cuisine fit, I'm taking care of the environment a little better – AND, using it makes me smile!
So, following this tutorial – I made this!
The two remnants of material were $2 at my favorite thrift store. The outside fabric is very fun flowers and the inside is a lightweight denim! It took me about an hour and a half to sew minus the time I got distracted while Ali and I were watching the Olympic swimming trials on Saturday.
It's way more heavy duty than a plastic grocery sack. When we went grocery shopping on Sunday we took it, along with our Trader Joe reusable bags and got a whole week's worth of groceries in three bags!
Not only will my Lean Cuisine fit, I'm taking care of the environment a little better – AND, using it makes me smile!
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