St. Nicholas Day

I'm writing this blog a day early because I'm headed out of town on retreat at the Peace and Shalom Center of Mt. Angel, OR. Mt. Angel is the most German town I've been in, even topping Cincinnati during Octoberfest. It is a tiny town in the Wilamette Valley, about an hour south of here, that circles around an old German Benedictine Monastery. They have an Octoberfest, also. The monastery is ontop of a winding hill. My retreat will be near the convent property which is down in the town.

It's been ages since I went on retreat, unless I count the farm as one. I've felt so busy and have such a long to-do list, that there's a big part of me that's regretting signing up. That's insane! My plan is to leave everything behind, my books, the computer, even crossword puzzles and Blue. I'm hoping it will be an undevided attention time with the Lord. A rendevous of sorts.

So I'm wondering if St. Nick will find my shoes? I hope so....and hope he finds yours, everyone.

Commentary on Clowns

I woke up this morning, like I often do, with a bed-head that looks like clown hair. It's pretty funny. Reflecting on that fact lead me to realize that this is another gap in the generations. I grew up thinking clowns were kind and funny. My childhood experience of clowns is from watching Clarabelle on The Howdy Doody Show. She couldn't talk, only honked her horn, and she was nice. There was "Bozo the Clown" - I had his picture on my bedroom wall and "BOZO" is actually the first word I ever learned to read because his name was on the picture. I loved watching Red Skelton on TV. He was a very funny clown in some of his skits. I loved Emmett Kelley for his sad, sad face. He had a five o'clock shadow just like my dad.

My kids grew up thinking clowns are scary maniac killers. It seems there have been enough horror movies featuring clowns to have made a bad impression. When they were little I found a stuffed clown doll that I thought they would love. Instead we had to keep it hidden out of sight. "Not in the closet! What are you thinking!" I finally caught on and gave the clown away.

The only "contemporary clown" that is sweet that I can think of is the one in Tomi de Paulo's The Clown of God. I love the way he illustrates that folk tale. There's also the clowns in Cirque de Soliel's Corteo, which I've mentioned before. This leads me to believe those Steven King etal. stories/movies are a clear case of media distortion breeding prejudice.

So here's to bed-head mornings and big lipstick! Here's to innocent joy and clumsy tumbles! Here's to laughing at silliness and imperfections! And here's to kind acceptance of all our differences and the challenge to work for change!

Slug Slime

When I lived on the farm there would occasionally be a shiny trail on the bathroom rug in the morning. I would pretend the fairies had come to visit. Of course I knew it was a trail of slug slime. It usually faded in an hour or two and I never saw the slug so it never annoyed me.

Now, for you who have known slugs from the midwest, you probably think of them as those little shell-less snail things that are garden pests. We have those here, too. But, as many other things West of the Rocky Mountains, we have slugs as big as Paul Bunyan's Babe. I first heard of big slugs from kaliedoscope girl who attended the University of California at Santa Cruz. Their school mascot is a smiling banana slug. Since living out here I have seen some biggish slugs although I've never actually seen a bright yellow smiling banana slug. The ones I've seen have been light brown and I only know they are banana slugs because they have a hole for a nose on the side of their heads. The first enormous slug I ever saw was one day walking in the woods near the farm. I came upon a Rufous Garden Slug. I can't describe my horror. It was on a clump of autumn leaves and the contrast between the yellow-orange of the leaves and the big, black, slimy creature made me think for a second of lynchings and castration. It sent the scariest shiver up my back. My nature book says they are 2 inches long, but this guy was at least 2 inches wide and maybe 6 long.

This all brings me round to the "Fairy Trail" I've noticed near Waylon's bowl since we've been here. I put Waylon's food up on a ledge in the mud room. It's a great ledge that is next to the kitchen door and you have to pass it to get to the basement stairs. It's perfect for resting the laundry basket on as you get ready to go downstairs to do the wash. Perfect also for keeping cat food out of the dogs' reach. Waylon likes to spread his food around so I have an old terry cloth towel that I put under the bowls. Shortly after Waylon arrived, I noticed a fairy trail on the towel one morning. It isn't there every morning, but often enough that I decided to investigate and see if I could find those fairies. This proved to be quite a mystery. The trail only glistens on the terry cloth. I could find a few shiny sprinkles on the basement steps and on the rug near the washing machine, but no trail. The cat bowl ledge is in location that I can't imagine a slug being able to reach. But, you know, fairies can be unpredictable and seriously secretive beings.

WELL......one night I was letting Blue out to pee and usually I don't turn on the light, but for some reason I did. The trail maker was there! Right up there nibbling on cat food crumbs. He is a Leopard Slug. Here's how the Nature book describes him:

LEOPARD SLUG Limax maximus Gastropod Class Body cylindrical, leathery, pale gray or brownish; above spotted and striped. Eyes on long stalks. A garden pest imported from Europe. Length: 4 inches Habitat: Gardens and moist woodlands. Range: Chiefly west of the Cascades.

I think he's longer than 4 inches. My first impulse is to squish all slugs. But one this big I cannot squish. My next thought is to scoop him up and take him across the street. But I figure any little critter who can slither up onto this ledge and survive on cat food crumbs (instead of my garden) has earned the right to join the family. I still can't figure out where he lives. There are lots of tiny holes and I've looked up and down the stairs to the basement, but this remains a mystery for now. Stay tuned....his photo is coming.

Our New Bud

Here's a look of our new bud.

One Down!

Yesterday I finished one of my projects that's been in the works for months now. This is a moment to celebrate because I actually believed it would never be finished. Some of you might recall that I bought a couch for $25 soon after I moved in here. It had a vinyl cover and looked like a couch that you'd see in a nursing home, doctor's office, or hotel lobby. I made an attempt to cover it and found a light beige suede feeling fabric, but the couch looked blah. I figured I'd put it out on the curb. That's what you do in Portland if you want to give something away. No matter what it is, it's usually gone by the end of the day.

While waiting to find someone to help carry the couch out to the curb I found a piece of red fabric that I thought would make a cool tablecloth. I spread it on the couch to see where I wanted to position the pattern, and really liked how it looked. So that started the dilemma of whether to continue with making a tablecloth or use the fabric for upholstery. If I used it for the couch I'd need more fabric, but I wasn't sure how much, so I measured and went to the store to get more fabric. They had sold out of that pattern. They reordered it, but I'm very impatient so I tried to use a couple other matching fabrics. That didn't work. It took a few weeks, but the red fabric arrived and I bought another yard. Of course that was 2 - 3 inches short, so I saved every scrap and skillfully pieced it together leaving the beige cloth on the back of the couch.

All this began sometime in March or April. Many days I thought I'd just throw the whole thing out. It's just one of those projects that you have to sit down and do and there never seemed like time. I had planned a small dinner at the beginning of October and invited a family with a two year old. In an effort to child-proof the house I was determined to finish the couch and pinned all the fabric in place. SIE had become an expert at removing the straight pins during these months of upholstering so I figured it would be a class one hazzard if a two year old saw them. I tried to get it all sewn in place before the two year old arrived, but it became a choice of a covered couch or a cooked meal. The night of the dinner I was scrambling to cover up the pinned section with throws and blankets. Lest it sound like I am blaming little kids for my inability to complete a project, let me mention the animals in my house who get onto the couch to groom their claws or nap. You probably know that a proper nap can't be taken unless the area is scraped and roughed up before turning around three times and settling in.

At any rate, my couch is now stitched and beautiful and comfy and if I ignore the cost of fabric and time, I can still pretend it only cost $25.

Thanksgiving's Past, Thanksgivings Past

Thanksgiving is past. It's the morning after Thanksgiving Day and very laid back. I'm taking care of kaleidoscope girl's two dogs while they are at the Coast. The 3 dogs are maniacs when they're together. I made the mistake of giving them each a chew bone thinking that would be a nice treat. They spent most of last night defending their bones and taunting each other with them. The family left after dinner and hopefully didn't get too tired driving in the rain. It was pouring here. This was my 5th Thanksgiving in Portland. Really hard to believe that time has spun so fast. Kaleidoscope girl and Hapapapa have an "extended family" of friends that have shared Thanksgiving Dinner together for years. I've joined in since I've been here and it's really nice to see the group together each year. Usually the host family makes the turkey and everyone brings something. Stories are that for the first few years there was no turkey...I'm glad those days have passed!

Thanksgivings Past I was remembering back to past Thanksgivings and there are many that have been really nice, but a couple that cross my mind every year. One was in Chicago. I don't remember a dinner, but I remember a slender nurse on my floor (I was a ward clerk at Billing's Hospital for a season). I probably worked that night and this nurse told stories of her Thanksgiving turkeys and how every year except this one it seemed she was pregnant. She would be in her eighth or nineth month and as big as the turkey itself. Everyone would crack up as she described herself trying to get the turkey in and out of the oven.

Another Thanksgiving that crosses my mind each year is my first one in Over-the-Rhine. I moved there in the spring of 1969 and my official roomate, D.G., had a job split between youth work at Prince of Peace and senior work at the OTR Senior Center which was located on the corner of 13th and Race St. across from Washington Park at the time. I say she was my "official" roomate because there were many people in and out of our apartment that summer. We were the ones who paid the rent. Everyone but me returned to school in the fall, and I was hired by the Senior Center to replace DG. For Thanksgiving, DG decided she wanted to cook dinner for all the little old people who usually came to the center. It would have been closed for the holiday and most all of the people would have been alone.

I had never cooked a turkey or made stuffing or anything like this. DG had taught me how to drive; now she was teaching me how to make the best turkey and stuffing. The turkey was huge. I think we used two or three bags of bread, a pound of butter, and an entire jar of poultry spice making the stuffing. Then it was up every hour through the night to check on it and baste it. The smell of turkey in the morning was wonderful and the dinner was a huge success. And one of the best parts was making the little elderly Italian cook, who was quite a curmudgeon - especially when we helped in the kitchen, sit down and eat without doing a thing! They all loved it.

The Beachys are Back!

Yay! Mr. Beachy, Peaches, and Soon are back from their l-o-n-g trip to China. They arrived last night all grumpy and tired out, but very happy to be home. They visited every relative in the Beachy extended family. Peaches said she didn't get to hold Soon for more than a few minutes the entire trip. Everyone thought she was the perfect baby. How could they not? Mr. Beachy is glad to be back in time to cook Thanksgiving dinner. He tells me everyone cooked for them while they were gone and they never ate so much food in all their lives. But they've been en route for three days and are happy I filled their fridge with their favorite American foods.

Early this morning Mr. Beachy was outside inspecting the yard and scolding, scolding, scolding me in his old familiar way about things I missed caring for in the garden. The weather has been cold and rainy, but that is no excuse. If Soon hadn't started fussing he would have given me an earfull! Peaches was all cheerful this morning, laughing that Soon couldn't let her take a shower without such a fuss. "Want to be with mama all the time! So many people in China; now all alone in big house. New colors, new sounds. Good while gone, now naughty. Baby Soon remember old house and be happy soon."

It's really great to have them back all safe and sound. I confess I was a little worried that they might decide to stay in China. Mr. Beachy knew I'd been thinking that might happen. He scoffed at me and muttered, "No, no. Chinese people all good with gardens. I go where needed most."

Analyze This

I had a dream last night. Not a "biggie", but one that was detailed and long. I don't know where this one came from, so if you can figure it out, let me know!

In the dream I was me, but younger, maybe 30. I had a friend who was supposed to be a bridesmaid in a wedding. For some reason she just couldn't be there. She gave me her dress and, despite much resistance, talked me into taking her place. I didn't know the bride. What I figured I'd do is find the other bridesmaid (the maid of honor) and explain the situation to her and get the dress to them so they could find another of the bride's friends.

I headed to the church which was a little brick church somewhere near Bishop St. in Cincinnati. It's not a church that's really there - just in this dream. There was a long tight driveway around to the back of the church and a lot of trees and bushes in full foilage. And I was driving a semi. It seems that driving a semi was my profession. I had a bit of trouble parking it and finally left it blocking some of the cars because I figured I'd only be there a minute.

Explaining the situation to the bridesmaid was futile. She didn't care. She just wanted me to hurry up and put on the gown so the wedding could begin. I wasn't even sure it would fit but we hurried up a softly lit wooden staircase to a second floor dressing room and put it on. She already was dressed and frantic to get me in my dress. I realized I didn't have a slip so we tried a couple ideas and finally cut a white pillow case to use as a half slip.

There was a delay in the start of the service so I got to hang out with the bride and bridesmaid while we waited. The bride was relaxed and finally her maid of homor calmed down, too. It was getting late and I had to move the semi. That was a little tricky trying to get up into the seat with the fitted skirt. It turned out I just needed to back the truck up a bit and scooch into a spot recently vacated by a couple cars.

It was dark now and the wedding still hadn't started. The bride, bridesmaid, and I decided to go on a walk. The night air was warm and smelled beautiful. It was pretty late and wasn't too long before dawn. We walked along one of the roads near Spring Grove Cemtery. I knew a way to cut into the cemetery. The main gates would be shut for another hour or so. We would have to slip through a small space between a chicken wire fence and some rose bushes. I agreed to climb up to see if the path was clear enough for our dresses to sueeze past without tearing. But I couldn't get up this small incline. I ended up with my hands and feet trying to get some traction. My feet just kept slipping out from under me. They started walking down into the meadow on the other side of the road, so I gave up and caught up with them.

The meadow was lit up by the moon and we noticed some activity around a trailer. The bride decided to ask at the trailor for a ride back to the church. It turns out the people in the trailor were filming a movie and asked us to wait till they finished this shot. We were seated on a long white bench and got to watch the end of the scene. The director had the cameraman take a short film of us sitting on the bench to use in his film. We were leaning up against each other and I was sitting with my legs stretched out on the bench. We felt like: "A-aaa-ah."

So how does a brain manufacture that dream? Maybe I'm just falling asleep with the TV on too much! Any other ideas or dreams out there? Maybe Mr. Beachy will know.

It Was A Dark and Stormy Night . . .

The fog enveloped everything in sight. Only the sound of the ocean could be heard beyond the beckoning wind. She walked closer. Soon she would disapear . . . . .

A-hem

Mr. Beachy stopped by today to tell me to get on the schtick and get back to blogging! This has been a busy month and there's lots to write about. Right now I'm sitting in a very warm room in a house that looks like I'm still moving in. There's chaos everywhere, but it's too hot to do anything except sweat.

My three children were in town to visit this past week. The time went so fast! But we did get a chance to spend two nights at the Coast. Kaliedoscope had reserved a great room with a loft and a balcony looking out over the beach in Newport. The weather was in constant flux and a blanket fog kept rolling around with one morning that was clear and sunny. Besides loving the fact that all three of my girls and one little grandson were with me, I loved walking along the beach. Blue loved running. There are so many soft colors. The sand takes on many patterns. Little creatures scurry along the rim of the waves. The sky is huge when the sun was out, and mysterious when the fog covered everything. The wind was chilly but felt good to me. The sand was warm.

And here I'll have to close because I'm too weary to write more. My mind and heart are full to the brim and, yes, Mr. Beachy, I'll try to write all about the visit soon as I can. Thanks for stopping by!