Life Lessons

Fall is a busy season for the VLF. There are adventures (and mice) to be had outside - and these are all the more fun when shared. And once again I ventured out the kitchen door in bare feet. Patently, this was an error. But then, I already knew that. Blech!

Last night, in the midst of a rainstorm, I hear meowing from the kitchen door. I open it - no sign of Fluffy. Meow! I look up - she's on the roof. And won't come down. Crash finally opened the bathroom window and called her in. I'm afraid she will view this as an alternative entrance and beg to be let out that way as well.

Caramel Coated

I saw a sweatshirt today that said "Chemistry is just like cooking...just don't lick the spoon!" Thus inspired to do some chemistry in my kitchen (where I can lick the spoon) and having some apples from the local farmer's market in my 'fridge crying aloud to be covered in caramel, I embarked on a candy making adventure tonight.

The recipe called for melting a cup of sugar over high heat, then whisking in butter until melted and finally some heavy cream. This is not a low calorie recipe! Nor is it one for meditation - once that sugar melts, you need to be ready with a whisk and the butter. Having mucked up the whisk trying to melt the sugar (the recipe recommended using a whisk to stir while melting - I found a silicon spoon worked better - once I convinced myself the melting point of sucrose, which I know in celsius (160), was lower than the max temperature the spoon was designed for, which I know in Fahrenheit (425). As a result, I was madly digging in the drawer for another whisk whilst trying to keep the melting sugar from overbrowning. The word relaxing does not come to mind...

In the end I have caramel sauce, it tastes right - no grit, rich and buttery - but it's not thick and gooey. Like any good chemical reaction, the conditions clearly need a bit of tweaking.

All creatures great and small

It's the Feast of St. Francis of Assisi (for at least another two minutes anyway, or longer if you count the end of the day as when I say Compline). Last year, Fluffy celebrated by heading off for her first ever blessing - this year she is channeling her inner predator. As I was writing in the sunroom a few minutes ago I heard a thump and a squeak from the basement. Fluffy proudly strode into the room, two ears and a tail sticking out of her mouth. Yep - it's still alive. Nope - she does not want to take it outside. Don't I want to watch her? Most emphatically - no! The mouse thinks I have it in for him as well, and has resisted various attempts at rescue. I have retreated to my bedroom, where I have barricaded the door, lest she decide I really must enjoy the show. I feel badly for the mouse on this day of all days- have I let St. Francis down?

The boys have taken to calling Fluffy the "VLF' (vicious little furball). While warm and cuddly with her human staff, do not get between her and her amuse bouches.

Last week, walking out to get the morning paper with the Boy, he notices something out of the usual and inquires, "Why is that mouse sleeping on the driveway, Mom?" "Um, it's not sleeping..." "Oh, the VLF again!" Crash ("sarcasm, just another service we offer!") chimes in with, "at least this one has all its limbs". This is when I realize that the Fluffster has left us another gift. This one is just so much fluff on the door mat - and I have just walked through it. No shoes. Life lesson - wear shoes to get the paper.

I will wear shoes in the morning - that is for sure.

Mysteries of the Moleskine Revealed

reverendmother covets these journals. I admit to having two: one for keeping track of daily life, the other for keeping track of my interior life. They are tough as nails, and have survived dunkings in tea, many meetings and being stuffed into all manner of bags. But where to keep your pen, wonders the good reverend!

In the spine, just like a spiral notebook...

The Zen of Not Blogging

I’m spending 48 hours at a Zen workshop. Two friends were coming, and encouraged me to come, and given that I am facilitating a group on contemplative practices, I thought it a good thing to try. The workshop is essentially immersion into Zen practice. Explanations are sparse, just enough to shape our practice so that it is incrementally better than it was before. Zen teachers are sprinkled throughout the zendo (or zen hall). Three-quarters of us (including me) are rank beginners at this. The Zen master who is leading the weekend emphasized at the beginning that Zen is a practice that deepens whatever religious tradition you profess (or don’t).

Even though I regularly use stilling practices and exercises of awareness for prayer, and am a veteran of 8-day Ignatian retreats where I might spend 6 or 7 hours in formal prayer each day, I’m finding this weekend hard going. Part of this is the necessarily rigid schedule of the communal meditation. We are to be in the zendo ready to go 5 minutes before the appointed hour. “The work” as one of the monks calls it, may last 3 hours at a stretch. We sit and meditate, walk as a group – meditating - and chant. The first period began at dawn, the last one will end at 9:30 tonight. All together, we will spend 9 or 10 hours working together.

The sitting is hardest for me. The instructions are to be aware, pay attention, but not to process. Don’t internally name the sound you hear, don’t think about what you will do in the free period after lunch, don’t think. Just sit. Above all, don’t think about what you might blog about the experience!