No, not a "lousy T-shirt." While admitting to a bit of beach envy, I was happy to receive the bounty of my brother-in-law's garden and produce from their refrigerator which would not last the week. Michael's homegrown eggplant, peppers, tomatoes, and potatoes inspired me to create my own ratatouille this morning. I threw in some zucchini, onion, garlic, and fresh basil and thyme snipped in the rain from my potted herb garden.
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Yesterday was the feast of Saint Rose of Lima. The first thing listed in the Catholic encyclopedia article about Rose is "Virgin." Of course. No surprise from a church that covers up sex abuse and struggles to deal with sex and sexuality in a healthy way. I am put off right away. "What about women who are mothers?" I think. Still, second class, I guess. Countless saints, there, I am sure. Someday might "Mother" be first on the list of saintly qualifications? I move on.
Then comes the hagiography: Her infant face was seen transformed by a mystical rose...whatever that means. The list continues with constant prayer, adoration of the Blessed Sacrament, secluding herself in her room, committing to virginity, to a meatless diet (the connection to cooking vegan with my sister and sister-in-law) and eventually to eating almost nothing. All this as she struggled against the opposition of family and friends.
As many lives of saints who lived in this period, Rose is said to have practiced severe acts of mortification especially after becoming a member of the Third Order of Dominicans (Her parents refused to let her become a nun.), and worn a metal circlet studded with spikes like thorns everyday, a metal chain around her waist, and coarse clothes. She also fashioned a bed of broken glass, pot shards, and thorns. Will the holiness never end?
On the bright side, she was an artist with a needle and made lace and needlework to help support her family when they fell into hard times. And she preformed works of charity. That gets limited notice in this article. Read More
The morning after Halloween, my mom's large, silver mixing bowl filled with small candy bars sits on my table, tempting me. Why not have a bit of sweet to start the morning. I had feared this would happen. Being new to the neighborhood, I had no idea if trick or treaters would find their way to my door, so I prepared with a few bags of candy bars. When my neighbor appeared outside in the afternoon ready to take a walk, I asked her about Halloween "traffic."
"Sometimes we get a few," she said. "But not too many. I think they don't know which door to go to." She motioned to the row of flats.
It also doesn't help that my flat is located between two wealthy suburbs. I lived in one for a while and people from all over the city came with vans full of kids in costumes. It was safer. And the take was pretty good.
Before giving in to the call of a snickers bar, I prepared green beans for an evening potluck. Nothing fancy. Frozen French cut green beans, a little butter, salt, and fresh lemon juice. I toasted slivered almonds and put them on top. I saved a small dish to eat later. The longer I looked at the bright green beans and buttery almonds, the less I wanted to wait. Read More
"Getting ready for the snow storm?" I asked as I handed the customer her bag of Cuddle Duds long johns. 