Bless the Beasts

Today is the Feast of St. Francis, so all the little animals are front and center in my heart today.

I don't know about you, but I don't know what I would be without my pets.  Sure, I would still be a wife and a mother and a daughter and all that, but my pets, without fail, fulfill that certain little need in my heart to tend to something totally helpless, totally dependent upon me, without any expectations. 

I get so much satisfaction I out of caring for my pets -- and without expectation of anything in return.  It's different than raising children.  You slowly teach them to become more independent and self-sufficient and, without really realizing it, you are preparing them to live without you one day.  With pets, it's different.  I wil keep my pets with me until their dying day.  I don't teach them to strive for anything or expect really anything from them.  I can just accept them, and enjoy them, for who they are and revel in their uniqueness, their needs, and their care. 

I love to care and fuss over my sweet, little Lester.  She's the moodiest little bird, and some days I am her best buddy and other days she wants little to do with me . . . other than to be let her free of her nighttime cage and roam the house, bathing in the dog's water and perching on a sunny windowsill.  Here she is, perched just over my shoulder when I saw last sick.

And I love to tend to my pigeons outback.  My husband built them the loveliest coop and aviary this summer and when we moved them in, they behaved like giddy little honeymooners.  I can see them from my computer desk now and just a moment watching them restores my soul and brings me joy. 

And then there are the chickens.  I've written about them before.  Having them out back is like having four very eccentric little ladies living right in our backyard.  They have distinct personalities, but are equally interesting and fun.  And when they reward us with eggs, they seem especially proud.

My son has his little creepy-crawlies like the worm farm in the basement and his collection of land snails and a herd (decidedly not the scientific term) of Chinese fire-bellied newts, and, while I haven't bonded with them personally, I love them, too, for the joy and hours of entertainment they bring my son. 

We have a couple budgerigars who are pretty low key, low maintenance, and unto their own.  And we caught a parakeet who was flying wild when he shouldn't have been, and he has rewarded us with . . . well, hmmm . . . we're still looking for his redeeming quality.  To say he would serve as a good wood-chipper, the way he bites, is an understatement. 

(That's him on the right. . . no fingers in the cage!)

My son won a goldfish this year at the fair, as I wrote about previously.  Ferris is a happy little fish and easy to care for.  I have a betta who is beautiful and keeps me company on the kitchen windowsill.  Due to his location, I named him Olive Oil.  This galls my son because he is a male.  I enjoy that. 

And then there's the dog.  Our sweet little dog.  He is gentle and patient beyond all measure, and I should strive to be more like him.  He could use the help running off all the uppity cats in our neighborhood. 

So today was the blessing of the animals at our parish.  We rounded up a sampling of our menagerie and brought them for blessing.  How funny we must have looked with various cages, crates, and containers.  (Everyone else looked quite reasonable with one dog per family.)

How blessed I felt as we all drove home to the tune of a scratching chicken, a cooing dove, sloshing water, and a whining dog.  Such bounty.

As Goes the Scout, So Goes the World

So my son, a webelo scout this year, is out in the neighborhood, right now, selling popcorn for their annual fundraiser.

Poor kid.  I think selling popcorn for $9, the cheapest -- for a couple handfuls of caramel corn -- is a tough sell, I don't care how cute he looks in his plaid hat.  Yet, people, God bless 'em, buy the stuff.

So a note of thanks to the buyers of all these somewhat useless and very overpriced items . . .

Blessed are the buyers of the $20 tins of flavored popcorn, the $10 rolls of reversible wrapping paper (And, really, what is the purpose of this?  You can only show one side of wrapping paper at a time!  For that amount of money, I would rather have two rolls of one-sided wrapping paper.), the $14 tubs of cookie dough, and the $7 boxes of mediocre cookies.  From one consumer to another . . . we both know you are not getting what you've paid for.  But from the parent of a hard-selling little scout, thanks . . . with your good-natured purchase of a highly overpriced item, you are keeping the faith of a still-innocent little boy and you are restoring mine.

Despite my occasional flushes of worry and doubt, people are still mostly kind and good.

 

Clean Bathroom -- An End to the Suffering

Well, I got my first-floor bathroom completely scrubbed, disinfected, polished, and re-opened to the public.  I had closed the bathroom to all not-sick family members in an effort to contain the nasty stomach virus that wracked my daughter and my husband last week.  Thankfully, all the sick family members are well again . . . and worthy to share a bathroom.

No one is more relieved than my son. 

He wasn't sick this week, mind you.  He was one of the healthy ones.  Upon hearing the announcement that said bathroom had now been re-opened to the public, he sighed with relief, "Oh good!  It's been a hard week, Mommy." 

Yah, nevermind the ones who were throwing up and writhing in headache pain . . . my son had to actually go upstairs to use the bathroom.  Now that's suffering! 

Kids.

Lavender Jelly & Hand-Knitted Washclothes, Oh My!

Good Day, My Blogger Lovelies!

Last summer was a wonderful summer for the lavender in my garden.  It bloomed and flourished and almost crowded out the roses next to it.  No bother, I find those roses tedious anyway.  It was such a lovely, lush, fragrant cloud of cooling silver-gray and blue, it inspired me to capture it for seasons ahead.  And here is the product:

Lavender Jelly.

I made a beautiful batch of lavender jelly.  I'd never made anything like it before, but had complete faith in my beautiful lavender, and it did not disappoint.  Each time I open a jar, I am greeted with the sweet and spicy aroma of that fresh lavender.  When you open your jar for the first time, you'll find a sprig of once-fresh lavender from my garden; remove it and proceed to enjoy this wonderfully flowery yet spicy jelly.  No worries, my garden in completely chemical and pesticide free.  I think this jelly is especially wonderful on a faintly lemon-flavored poppyseed muffin, but I'm sure you'll find your own favorite combinations.

You may also notice a hand-knitted washcloth there in the picture.  That comes along with the jelly . . . just because.  I really enjoyed knitting this, and hope you enjoy using it.  It is 100% cotton and is completely usable as either a facecloth or even a dishrag -- that's how I use mine.  It makes doing the dishes and wiping the counters so much more pleasant.

A little bit of lady-like indulgence is good for the soul.  It can turn the mundane into something beautiful, even if only for a moment.

Now, be sure and join up as a follower and do have a look around.  Hopefully, you and I will find lots to say to one another.

All the followers go into a hat Monday night, 9pm EST; one will be drawn . . . so comeback here late Monday night and find out who has won.  Thanks and good luck!

R~

Blogtoberfest: Fun & Free Stuff!

Oooh, I love a good fest!

I grew up in Milwaukee, Wisconsin . . . dare I deem it the world capital of fests?  We had Irish Fest, German Fest, Festa Italiana, Greek Fest, Polish Fest, Mexican Fiesta, Afro Fest (yes, they called it that), Pride Fest, and, perhaps, the best known, Summerfest.

So this girl knows how to throw a Fest!

Blogtoberfest is a blogging challenge wherein bloggers pledge to blog everyday (which I already do, mostly . . . unless a family member is running a fever or some other concerning thing occurs) and you have lots of fun, engaging activities.  Any self-respecting Milwaukee girl (nevermind that I live in Maryland now . . . I have beer in my veins . . . er, that doesn't sound right does it) would have to get in on this.

So, it's Friday and the perfect time to Roll Out the Barrel of fun!

In the tradition of the wonderful festivals of my childhood, we will hold a raffle . . .

To enter?  You must join as a follower . . . hey, you had to be at the festival to enter the raffle, right?  So, come to the festival, grab a raffle ticket by becoming a follower . . . then enjoy the festival by roaming around, sampling the goodness (you know, actually READ some posts . . . a party in and of themselves!).

After a weekend of festivities, I will announce the winner of the raffle Monday evening, after 9pm EST (so you have until then to join).  I'll do it old-fashioned-style -- draw the winner out of a hat. 

So be sure you get your little snippet included . . . make yourself a lovely little follower tile (or leave it blank, if you really mean to) . . .

And you might win this:

Well, I don't actually have a picture of the item to show you yet.  I will take an enchanting picture of said (or unsaid) item and then I'll be back and post it along with a charming description.  Tune in tomorrow (Saturday, 10/3) for item details.  Okay?  Okay.

Until then, get yourself a good, festive snack and walk around a little . . . you just might see something you like.

P.S.  Come one and all -- if you are good enough to join and lucky enough to win, I'll send your prize wherever you happen to be!

Ooooh . . . Ahhhhh!

"Just" ~ A Word About Motherhood?

Waiting in line at the school carpool today, I heard someone on the radio describe a certain woman as "just a mom."  The speaker meant no offense, really; he was trying to convey that she had no "job."  Nevertheless, the phrase "just a mom" sears my sensibilities like few others.

 All mothers are working mothers.  ~Author Unknown

I remember when Sarah Palin accepted the vice-presidential nominee position and a discussion erupted about whether a woman with so many young children should be in such a time-consuming position outside of the home.  That is not a debate I care to engage in today, but I do want to point out that some -- maybe many -- people believe that "just being a mom," is not a formidable job in itself.  Indeed, it was a female commentator who said, "Yes, I'm a mom, but I have a lot more to offer the world than just that.  I can't be stuck home baking cookies; I have important things to contribute."

Excuse me just a moment.  "Than just that."  What an insult.  And what a complete misunderstanding of a mother's role.  And what in this world could be more important than raising a competent, decent, happy child?  Whether a woman is a mother with one job -- that of being a full-time homemaker -- or is a mother with more than one job -- homemaker + job outside the home, the job of mother is the most profound, the most challenging, and, dare I say, the most important.    

If you bungle raising your children, I don't think whatever else you do well matters very much.  ~Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis

Allow me to expound on the role of "just a mother," for it is ever more challenging and often less satisfying than any other job could ever be.  It is challenging because it never, ever ends and nothing feels more important than your child's happiness and well-being.  To use the cliche' "24/7" doesn't even capture it.  After hours?  After dinner?  A mother's duties expand exponentially in the "off hours."  Vacation?  Even more.  Special occasions?  More yet.

And there is no retirement.  No pension.  For I know my heart goes with my children until, and beyond, their dying day.

Grown don't mean nothing to a mother.  A child is a child.  They get bigger, older, but grown?  What's that suppose to mean?  In my heart it don't mean a thing.  ~Toni Morrison, Beloved

I say it is often less satisfying than other jobs because there is seldom instant gratification.  The older a child gets, the longer it takes to see the impact of a mother's actions.  An infant may (or may not!) respond instantly to a mother's soothing.  A preschooler, ever the tantrum thrower, takes longer to respond.  A school-age child, even longer; and teenagers, well . . .

There are no raises . . . heck, there is no pay.  There are no merit awards.  No one, outside of yourself, will pat you on the back for a job well done.  A job well done?  Who can recognize a job well done?  The truth is, a mother makes countless decisions every day -- every hour -- and will have to wait days, months, years, if ever, to learn whether the decisions they made were correct.

One good mother is worth a hundred schoolmasters.  ~George Herbert

Women are capable of any job, many jobs, and her competence knows no bounds.  However, of all the jobs women do, show me another job that quite literally has lives on the line -- lives of your own children, your own loved ones.  Show me another job with such hours and such little tangible reward.  Show me another job of equal stress and such an uncertain measure of success.  Show me another position that provides such little self-aggrandizement.  

When you are a mother, you are never really alone in your thoughts.  A mother always has to think twice, once for herself and once for her child.  ~Sophia Loren

"Just a mom."  No one, except perhaps especially alert and appreciative fathers, understand and appreciate a mother's job.  The level of care, heart, concern, work, effort, and strain is immeasurable.  That is not to say it is not worth it, but rather, that it is completely saturating and always will be.

Every single decision I make . . . what I'm putting out in the world, is because of my children.  ~Meryl Streep 

Yet nothing is so important as protecting, guiding, soothing, strengthening, and supporting a little soul as it evolves.

The formative period for building character for eternity is in the nursery. The mother is queen of that realm and sways a scepter more potent than that of kings or priests. ~Author Unknown

Our children are our hearts.  When they hurt, we throb.  When they fail, we fall.  And when they smile, we exult.  And yet they never know it.

Until they, that is, they, themselves, become mothers or fathers.

The moment a child is born, the mother is also born.  She never existed before.  The woman existed, but the mother, never.  A mother is something absolutely new.  ~Rajneesh