Notes from the North Woods

Funeral Sermon: Betty Marquis

2009-12-14T22:51:00.006-05:00

Since I don't preach from a manuscript, there's no guarantee that this exactly what I said at Betty's funeral. But, it was close.

Betty Marquis was known by many names. A few of you called her mom. A few others of you called her Gram. Most of us called her Betty. Just don't call her Elizabeth. That always elicited an eye roll! Betty was a wife, a mom, a grandmother, a "fairy" godmother, a sister, a niece, an aunt, a cousin, and a friend to many.

Born and raised in Berlin, Betty was a life-long member of this congregation. She was shaped by early events in her life: helping her dad with his florist business - and then losing him when she was only 13. How many of you know that she started driving at 13, to help her dad deliver flowers. She told me THAT story last week, with a gleam in her eye.

Her dad's death was hard on her. She never forgot the pain of losing him so young, and what that was like. His death also meant a move to a new neighborhood, where she would eventually meet Jim. After marriage, they lived in the house Jim grew up in, on fourth street for all but two years of their married life.

Betty had hoped to go to nursing school, but there was no money for that training. Instead, she worked in the office at the Brown Company and she worked seasonally at Gill's. She did book-keeping at home. She raised wonderful children. She crafted and knit. And she contributed much to the life of this congregation.

When Rev. Ellie arrived at St. Barnabas, Betty handed her a piece of paper onto which she'd written all of the things that she did for the church. It had 27 different things on it. And, she'd say, with that characteristic Betty twinkle, that's not all of it.

Usually in a funeral homily, the preacher tells a bit about the person's life, and then tries to connect it all to God. With Betty, there was no distinction. All that Betty did flowed out of her love of God and her faith.

On Sunday, Leo and Pamela Carrier and I were talking about Betty. Leo said that Betty was responsible for the character of this congregation. "If we are welcoming, and hospitable, and have a sense of mission in the community," Leo said, "it's because Betty modeled that for us." We are a better place because of her being in the midst of us. She taught us all, by word and example, how to live.

Last night, Scott's friend Dave, one of the pall bearers, essentially said the same thing. Betty and Jim welcomed him into their home when he was young. "I was like the fourth child," he said. "And now, as an adult, I try to model that same behavior for my boys, so I can pass on the gift and values the Betty and Jim gave to me."

The gospel reading that Rev. Ellie just read for us from John's gospel is part of the service that we use in this church for communion under "Special Circumstances." Betty and I had many communions under special circumstances in recent months. At home, when she didn't feel well enough to come to church. And several times in recent weeks at AVH. I always read this passage to her, and then, in my reflection I would tell her that I'd chosen it because it reminded me of her.

Betty's faith was a deep part of her life. Her conviction was always strong. Even in the hospital, even when she felt really lousy (though she never complained about that), her faith and trust in God, and her joy in life never failed. A few days before she died, I told her that on the outside, she seemed really cheerful (despite being in the hospital and being enrolled into hospice). "How is it in here," I asked? "Just the same," was her smiling reply, that twinkle in her eye.

On Friday night, the night before Betty died, her friend Sophie had a dream. Betty (and all the knitting ladies, I think) were in Sophie's kitchen. I have to go home now, Betty said, standing up. She buttoned up her coat. I have to go home now.

Friends, the grief that we feel now at Betty's death is normal. Our hearts are broken because we loved her, and she loved us. It's hard to imagine a world without Betty in it. But Betty is home. She is reunited with the God she loved so well and loved so deeply.

And, she lives on in each of us. She lives on in the stories we tell. She lives on when we are loving and hospitable. She lives on as we pass on the values she taught us to the next generations.

And so today, I give thanks for the life and witness of Betty Marquis. I give thanks for having known and loved her. And I give thanks for what I have learned from her. I also give thanks that the physical suffering that she endured in recent months has ended and that she is free from her earthly body and is now living in closer communion with her God. AMEN.

Advent 3 Sermon: Philippians 4:4-7

2009-12-13T08:19:00.008-05:00

I don't usually write a manuscript for my sermons. However, when Betty died yesterday; I decided to jettison my JBap sermon in favor of preaching on the Philippians passage. I began writing this post this morning before church, to help me get my thoughts in order; I finished it on Sunday night. I have no idea how much this represents what I actually said, because once my sermons are preached, they are over. However, several friends have asked what I said this morning. It went something like this....

Friends, this isn't the sermon I was planning to preach this morning. I had prepared what I think was a pretty good sermon on John the Baptist. It talked about the ways in which Luke's version of this story differ quite markedly from Matthew and Mark's versions, and what that might mean for us.

And then, Betty Marquis died yesterday morning. Her daughter-in-law Lisa called to tell me the news; I hung up the phone, and these words, from Philippians 4 came into my head unbidden: May the peace of God, which passes all understanding, keep your hearts and minds in the knowledge and love of God, and of God's son Jesus Christ. We use these words often in this Church. We use them as the blessing every Wednesday in the chapel at the 10AM service, and I've been using them as the Advent blessing here in the church on Sundays.

As I thought about this passage, and our grief, I realized that today, we needed the comfort of these words. I don't want to presume to speak for anyone else, but I know that today, I feel a combination of relief and sadness, joy and grief. Relief because Betty is finally free of the body which gave her such pain and grief in recent weeks and months, and sadness because I miss her. Joy because Betty has gone to be with God, and grief because she's no longer here with us. Perhaps you are feeling some of the same things.

They say that preachers often preach the sermon that they most need to hear. I know that this is the sermon that I need to hear this morning. I hope it's also the sermon that you need to hear. I found these words from Philippians comforting; I hope that they will be the same for you.

Paul wrote this letter to a church that he founded. He had a deep relationship with the people there, and loved them deeply. He wrote to them from prison. His primary reason for writing was to offer thanksgiving for a monetary gift they have sent to him. His secondary reason is to express his love for them and to encourage them in their faith. It's a short letter, and very beautiful. You could read it in one sitting, probably in 15-20 minutes. And I encourage you to do that.

The Christians in the church at Philippi faced some of the same issues facing the early church all over that region. There was some disagreement among church members. There were those outside the church who were trying to draw believers away from God. Christians faced persecution. Paul wrote to encourage the Philippians in all of those situations.

Today, as we gather together to worship God and join together in fellowship, these words that Paul wrote to the church in Philippi have particular meaning for us. Here the words that Paul speaks to the church at Philippi. Rejoice. Be gentle. The Lord is near. Pray. Rest in the peace of God.

Paul's words of exhortation serve as encouragement to us, as well. If you want a brief description of the life of faith, this one would serve.

Certainly, those words describe Betty and her life. She was a model for us of living out a life characterized by joy, gentleness, prayer, and faithfulness. She never doubted the nearness of her Lord. We who knew Betty and loved her are lucky. We had, in Betty, a living example of what living out this life of faith looks like.

That joy thing - it's complicated. Today, we lit the pink Advent candle. That candle stands for joy. There's some irony in that for us, I think. Today, we might not be feeling particularly joyful. Life as we know it has both sorrow and joy. Last night, when Betty's family gathered to begin planning the funeral, we laughed and we cried. I learned things about Betty that I'd never known. Did y'all know she was a speed demon?? That's how life is: God is with us in our sorrow and our joy. It's not up to us to fabricate that joy for ourselves.

In the coming days and weeks, as we continue to gather and tell stories about Betty, we will give thanks for her life and witness among us; we can honor Betty's memory by following her examples.

Sometimes You CAN go Home Again

2009-12-11T23:47:00.004-05:00

Before I went to seminary, nearly all of my working life was spent in retail. The vast majority of that was spent as a bookseller. From September of 1991 until I left for seminary in July of 2003, I was first a staff person at, and then the manager of, The World Eye Bookshop in Greenfield, MA.

The World Eye, as most folks call it, is a wonderful store. It survived a fire in 1996, from which it came back better and stronger than ever. For many years, I thought I would be there forever, buying the store and living in Greenfield, my adopted home-town.

God, as we now know, had other plans. I love my life and my ministry, and don't doubt for a moment that I've made the right response to God's call. Despite this, every so often, I get a bookselling twinge. Today, I got to go home again.

I learned in conversation with my friend-for-life (and World Eye owner) Ann that she was going to be short-staffed today. And, I was going to be in Greenfield with a bunch of free time. So, from 11-2:30, I was back in the bookselling saddle. I discovered a number of things:

It's amazing what your body remembers. After 6.5 years of not accessing this information, I can still find fiction (or travel, of the baking section of the cookbook area) without having to stop and think about it.
I can still run a cash register, and it's mostly the same. I can still make change in my head, and count it back to the penny.
Certain movements are ingrained in my body: the set of motions it takes to apply a price tag to merchandise with the most efficiency; the patterns of the keystrokes to open the cash register drawer; how to write up credit slips.
Time marches on. Several times, I discovered that I was answering questions based on information that was 6.5 years old. (Of course we have Dungeons and Dragons books [nope]. I can't tell if this book is in stock at our distributors [yes, I can, there's a live stock link].
I knew faces quite readily, but many names were gone. It was fun to watch a few people double-take.
I'm not reading enough books these days (lots of magazines, blogs, and a newspaper, but precious few books). I dreaded being asked for recommendations.

My only disappointment was that more of my old regular customers didn't wander by.

For the 12 years that I worked there, I can count the days when I hated my job on one hand. Every day was different. Most days were more fun than you can imagine. Today was fun, too. I'm perfectly happy to go back to my day-job, and I am so grateful for a chance to play in my old stomping grounds.

Snow Day Tales (Past and Present)

2009-12-09T19:12:00.007-05:00

I think there's a part of me that will always be a kid. When I heard that there was a snowstorm coming in last night; I really (really really) hoped for a for a snow day today.

When I woke up this morning, it wasn't really snowing. I looked out the window in disappointment; I was reminded of snowy mornings when I was a kid. I remembered that disappointment of hoping school would be postponed, and then waking up to discover no snow. My dad was a teacher, and we had a particular routine on school mornings. He got up, did his thing, and then woke me. We often ate breakfast together. He taught in a different school district from where we lived, and his superintendent called school off more than ours. Predictions of snow often caused much good-natured ribbing. I loved the days when I could go back to bed and Dad had to go to work.

Back to today, by the time I left for church (slightly late) the snow had begun. A few intrepid folks came out for our weekly 10AM service, but there was no going out to lunch afterwards. I ran some errands in the late morning, and got really worried about whether I would make it home; the roads were wretched. We live at the top of a fairly steep hill, and our driveway is very steep.

In the early afternoon, Susan and I met to plan music for Christmas. I got the word that my late afternoon meeting was cancelled, because of the weather. I skipped a home visit, postponing it to tomorrow. After a very slow drive home, I made it just fine, a good three hours earlier than usual.

While this didn't feel like a true snow day (since I didn't get to lounge around in my PJs), I did wind up with a day that felt more like a holiday and less like a real work day. In the end, it was a good snow day.

I'm still not sure of our total snow accumulation; I haven't measured, but I'm voting for about 6 inches.

More on Marriage Equity

2009-12-07T21:49:00.004-05:00

As New Jersey legislators hear arguments about Marriage Equity, this article appeared in The New York Times online edition. In it, members of the Petrow-Cohen Family talk about the way in which a lack of marriage equity has affected them. The most powerful words come from the testimony that their teenage daughter was to give today to the state legislature.

The article quotes Jessie Petrow-Cohen's testimony in full. Please go read it. I was brought to tears by one sentence:

The only thing that’s different about my family and every one of yours is that we have to stand here and ask you if we can legally be a family, when you can be one without asking anyone.

Jessie is right, of course.

I have no desire to force those for whom gay marriage is uncomfortable to have one, or attend one, or participate in any way. But no kid should have to wonder whether her family is safe. No kid should have to ask to have her family recognized as legitimate.

The Messiah

2009-12-07T21:21:00.005-05:00

I'm not sure when I first encountered Handel's Messiah. I didn't grow up in a house where we listened to this kind of music. Clearly, at some point it entered into my consciousness. For a number of years, listening to it during both Advent and Holy Week has become a part of my spiritual practice.

Sunday night, for the first time, I saw it live. I invited myself along on Margaret's excursion to the Concord Community Chorus's free performance at St. Paul's Episcopal Church in Concord (this was the 79th annual performance). The concert was to begin at 7. We met for supper at 5, and then stood in a line (where, amazingly, we were numbers 2 and 3) to get in. It was chilly in Concord; my puffy jacket kept me warm, but a hat would have been a smart addition to the ensemble.

We saw a number of folks Margaret knew. I met some NH Episcopalians I hadn't met before. The concert got off to a late start because a soloist was late, so we had extra chatting time. Our seatmates were a lovely older couple. The woman, age 75, grew up as a member of St. Paul's and told me a bit about the church of her youth while we waited.

The music, when it began, was top notch. Three cheers for the Concord Community Chorus and the wonderful soloists.

Those who know me well know that I don't always have great musical memory. Because I am so familiar with the Messiah, hearing and seeing it live was a totally different experience for me. Repeatedly, I was transported by the music. Sometimes I forgot to breathe. At others, I was near tears, because the music was so beautiful. By the end of the night, my facial muscles hurt, because I'd been smiling so much.

Here's Margaret's video of the Hallelujah Chorus.

Seven Loves

2009-12-04T18:36:00.004-05:00

I came across this meme on my friend Margaret's blog, and thought it was great. I hope it gets me back into the scheme of blogging.

The question: What are your seven loves? For me the answer falls into categories, more readily than it does individual items. They are: Loved Ones, The Church, Reading, Music, the Beauty of Creation, Travel, and Food.

Loved ones

I've been really blessed in my life with good relationships. My parents were (and are still, in my mother's case!) good people who loved me unconditionally, and showed it. Through the wonders of Facebook, I am in touch with a friend from Nursery School, friends from elementary school, high school and college, friends from seminary, and friends from the various places I have lived. I have always been a people person, and I'll always choose hanging out with friends over virtually everything else. Whenever I return to a place where I have lived, the most important thing to me is time with the friends who are still there. When I go to Western Mass, I make date after date, so that I can see those I love. (Ditto: Virginia, Michigan, New Zealand).

I could give up virtually everything else in my life, but I couldn't live without my friends. There are those who think I am addicted to technology. But, for the most part, my love of technology feeds my desire to be in touch with those I love who don't live right here, right now.

Please note that loved ones aren't limited to human loved ones, either. These days Birdie, Outtie, Sam and Basil make my heart sing, as do a number of others (including my new canine BFFs).

The Church

I've been a church rat since I was a kid. I was that girl trying to persuade the priest that girls should be altar boys, long before that was allowed. When my church started a kids' choir, I was there. I joined the youth group when that was possible. I was active in a number of campus religious organizations. I've never in my life been without a church community. And, I've never not been active in whichever church community I have joined.

Now, of course, behind that love of church is love of God. But for me, the church is the place where my love of God is strengthened and encouraged. It's the place from which I am sent, in order to be Christ's hands and feet in the world. I personally can't live out my Christian faith without a church community to do it in.

Reading

Somewhere, there is a picture of me, age two, in my father's lap, reading a book. It happened every day. I taught myself to read around age 4. And I've never stopped. My reading habits have changed - I read fewer romance novels now than I did when I was a teenager. In fact, these days much of my reading is of magazines. But, I never go anywhere without reading material. And I can tell, because I get grumpy, if I haven't taken enough time to read. These days most of my reading happens at breakfast. I'm up early, and I sit at the island in the kitchen eating my breakfast, drinking my coffee, and reading. It's a wonderful way to start my day.

Music

While I can read music, and sing passably, my real love of music is as a listener. I traced my history with music for a friend the other day. I began with records. I used to stack them up on my parents' record player, and then lay on the floor and listen to them. I had a brief foray with 8-Track Tapes, and then moved on to cassettes. Now I'm at CDs, periodically, and mostly just electronically downloaded or streaming music.

My taste is rather eclectic. In the recently played section of my iTunes, you'll find: Paul Simon, Lady Gaga, ABBA, Men Without Hats, Girlyman, U2, and a whole collection of Classical Music. As Advent progresses, I'll start listening to the Messiah, almost exclusively.

Music soothes me, makes me happy, energizes me, or relaxes me, depending on the music and the occasion.

The Beauty of Creation

I originally wrote that I loved the outdoors. But, when I wrote the first line, I had to go back and edit. Because, it really is the beauty of creation that drives my passion here. It doesn't much matter to me whether it is the red rocks of the southwest, the crowning beauty of fjords in New Zealand, or the view from my deck. I am constantly awed by the beauty of this world we live in. I'm the girl who pulls the car over by the side of the road to gape at some new scene. In the southwest and in New Zealand, sometimes my jaw would hurt because what I saw made me grin. Repeatedly.

Travel

I think that life is one big adventure. I love going to new places and seeing new things. So far, I've been to the UK (twice) and Ireland, New Zealand (many times), all of eastern Canada, plus Mexico, Jamaica, Grand Cayman, The Bahamas, and 45 of the fifty states (I only need to go to Hawaii, Alaska, North Dakota, Alabama, and Louisiana to have been to them all!). I'll be going to Jerusalem in February; I'm already giddy with anticipation.

Food

I love to eat. I love to cook. I love to try new things. Need I say more? One of the things I love about traveling is the chance to try new foods. I'll eat anything once. I also have old favorites: Lobster. Scallops (particularly the fried ones from the Dairy Bar, right here in Berlin). Really, any kind of sea food, including sushi. I also love having adventures in the kitchen. I made a great Thanksgiving dinner, and everything but the turkey was an experiment.

10 Ways That Being Insured has Benefitted Me (our Family)

2009-08-30T12:35:00.002-04:00

Apparently, my blog was a bit like the Car Talk Puzzler, and took a bit of a summer holiday. But, just as the cool air is returning to the North Country, I'm back.

Ten Ways Being Insured Has Benefitted Me
1. My considerable "female problems" have all been covered - a number of surgeries - both major and minor. Not a penny out of pocket. Total cost must be over $100K. (The hysterectomy alone was over $50K.)
2. I have had regular preventative medical care for my whole life.
3. My mom is a happy, healthy 83 year old because of good preventative medical care.
4. I was accident prone as a child. All of my cuts were stitched up well - with a minimum of scarring.
5. Our prescriptions are covered - we don't have to worry about whether we can afford them; we have no hard choices to make between our health and other necessitates like food, shelter, or clothing.
6. I am getting regular mammograms and pap smears as preventative measures.
7. We can afford for Michelle to receive some physical therapy for her hip.
8. I could get my bad crown redone - without going into debt.
9. I never worry about whether we will be able to afford medical things: office visits, illnesses, or even crises.
10. I've had good relationships with doctors because I could see them regularly.

The issue with all of this: our current health insurance plan costs St. Barnabas and the Diocese (who share the cost) $14,000, or so, a year. This to insure two young and healthy adults. This cost is out of reach for many families and employers. Our current system is broken and needs repair, both to keep costs down for healthy adults (and businesses who employ them!) and to give healthcare to those who are currently without.

Water Feature

2009-07-06T22:58:00.003-04:00

There's a little human-made pond in our back yard (right next to what seems like a very ill-placed fire pit). Michelle dragged a pump out of the pond earlier this spring and has been doing some work to clean it up.

Now the surprise peonies appeared right near the pond, so I've been paying some attention to the pond of late. Tonight, when I came home, I checked immediately to see if the peony had bloomed. [No, by the way.] But, what I did discover is that today, Michelle got the pump hooked back up and now, our pond has a bit of a fountain. Wow! I've been very excited all evening about the working water feature. Several times, I had to go hang out at the back door, just to watch the water.

Surprises

2009-06-23T22:53:00.003-04:00

Right now, I'm sitting on the couch, writing articles for the St. Barnabas newsletter, and the TV is on. The rector's reflection begins talking about the surprises we're finding this spring in our garden and moves into the way life (powered by the Holy Spirit) often surprises us. (I've included the full article at the end of this post.)

Mostly, I'm writing. But occasionally, something on the television catches my attention. Suddenly, I see a commercial for Orbitz. Four guys are out golfing, when the Orbitz hovercraft lands, and hands them all (except for the guy who didn't use Orbitz) refund checks because their flight-prices went down. I realized, as I was watching, that one of the guys was wearing a polo shirt with the logo for the Human Rights Campaign, a national gay, lesbian, bisexual, and transgender civil rights organization. It was very clearly the logo above.

So, there I was, writing about surprise - being surprised. Gayness. Right there in the Orbitz commercial. Subtle, sure, but there, nonetheless. Yay for the Holy Spirit.

Rector's Reflections: July 2009

Michelle and I arrived in Milan in mid-August. By the time we arrived, the garden has mostly passed. We (OK, she) built a couple of flower beds in the early fall, but we really had no idea what to expect around our yard. The first surprise this spring has been the wild strawberries that pretty much dominate our front yard. They are everywhere – yum! The next surprise was the peony, behind the pond. We had no idea it was there. Now, we walk around the yard every few days, looking for the next big surprise. What else is hidden amidst the trees, ferns, and grasses? It’s always a miracle to me when seeds and bulbs come up out of the ground. Being surprised by the unexpected is even more amazing.

And really, isn’t life a lot like this? We think we know what to expect – from an encounter, a meeting, or some project we take on. But, just like the garden, life is full of surprises. The Holy Spirit is full of surprises! The thing about the Holy Spirit and surprises is that we need to be open to them. If we’re not looking, not paying attention, we can miss them.

This month, I invite you to be on the lookout. The Holy Spirit is abroad in the world, shaking up life on a regular basis. You never know where you’ll find a peony or conversation that will knock your sox off.

The Abandoned House and the Irises

2009-06-20T18:22:00.003-04:00

There's an abandoned house up the road from our house. Technically, it's for sale, but no one lives there, and it appears to be in pretty dire condition. It's tipping pretty dramatically; a stiff wind would probably blow it over. The yard is a wild tangle. It's filled with ferns, brambles, and tall grass.

Tonight, when I was walking Birdie, I noticed the irises. There's a large iris bed ringing the front part of the property, filled with the lovely dark purple variety, packed in cheek by jowl. (Or would that be leaf by stem?) Irises are my favorite flowers, so that's probably what really caught my attention. But, after I noticed them, I spent the walk home thinking about the irises and the house.

Who planted them? What happened to the people who owned the house? Was there a time when the house and yard were well loved and cared for? I had a lovely little day dream, imagining someone planting the bulbs, lovingly.

Planting is such a vote for the future. Larry and I were talking about how to establish an asparagus bed today. It's a significant investment in time and a belief in the future. But really, that's true of any planting. Putting seeds, or vegetables, flowers, or trees in the ground is a statement of belief in the future.

I imagine that the planter of the irises had no idea what would happen to his/her house.

Seen by the roadside

2009-06-10T09:44:00.002-04:00

I have not appreciated the deer and the moose statuary. Living in places where encounters on the road with the real thing can range from dangerous to deadly, I've found the statues of deer and moose people have in their yards startling. I've mistaken the statue for the real thing, heart thumping and nerves jangling, on more than one occasion.

Yesterday, though, I saw one that made me laugh out loud.

This family had taken one of those life-sized deer statues, placed it near the road, and then dressed it in pirate garb. There was the deer with a bandana on its head, eye patch, striped shirt, and cigarette hanging out of it's mouth. It cracked me up! I wished I'd had the time to stop and snap a pic.

15 Books that Stick with Me

2009-05-30T14:00:00.003-04:00

I've noticed that the memes that appeal to me the most are the ones that are book related. I had lunch this week with a new friend, and talk turned to work histories. My friend was not remotely surprised to learn that I'd spent twelve years managing a bookstore. He saw my passion for books and reading in our interactions (and we've got a great novel swap happening at the moment!)

The challenge: choose fifteen books that continue to stick with you. Feel free to say why they've stuck or not. Stick with you, of course, is totally open to personal interpretation. For me, these are the books I come back to again and again. Something about the book captured me. These are in no particular order, by the way.

1. Zami: A New Spelling of My Name ~ A Biomythography by Audre Lorde. I read this shortly after I came out and shortly after Lorde's death. I felt like I was learning some of my history. I re-read it periodically. I love Lorde's voice.

2. Bird by Bird: Some Instructions on Writing and Life by Anne Lamott. This was the first book by Lamott that I read. I fond myself laughing out loud. And, her advice on writing and life is spot on.

3. The Omnivore's Dilemma by Michael Pollan. Pollan's book about food, what we eat, and how we eat has changed how I look at food (and sometimes) how I eat.

4. The Poisonwood Bible by Barbara Kingsolver. Barbara Kingsolver is my favorite novelist. This is certainly my favorite novel. I'm a sucker for multiple voices, and this is so well done.

5. Gone to Soldiers by Marge Piercy. I'm also a huge Piercy fan. This is another multiple voice novel, set in and around World War II. Piercy's characterization is amazing.

6. The Handmaid's Tale by Margaret Atwood. Atwood is yet another favorite writer. This classic fable shows what could happen when theocracy is brought to an extreme.

7. Watership Down by Richard Adams. I first read this one in junior high. I've re-read it several times since. Adams makes a world where animals think, talk, and order society seem possible.

8. Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince by J.K. Rowling. I'm a huge fan of the series, but I think this one is my favorite. (Mind you, this could change at any given moment!) Dumbledore's mentoring of Harry is wonderful to watch (and the ending, completely unexpected, at least by me). Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows would be my other choice for favorite in the series. I love it when good triumphs.

9. The Doomsday Book by Connie Willis. The first time I read this novel (set in the future, time travel is possible, historians use it to study events in history) I was on a business trip. The novel was so gripping I resented every time I had to leave my hotel room and stop reading.

10. Three Cups of Tea by Greg Mortenson. This is the newest book on my Top 15 list. It taught me so much about what is happening in Pakistan and Afghanistan, and it gives me hope for the future. I give it away as often as I can. I also donate to the Central Asia Institute.

11. The Lord of the Rings trilogy by J. R. R. Tolkien. I tried to read The Hobbit several times as a kid. I hated it. I gave up. When the movies came out, I tried again, and started with The Fellowship of the Ring and I was totally drawn in. Now I've read the repeatedly.

12. Nickel and Dimed: On (Not) Getting by in America by Barbara Ehrenreich. Ehrenreich, an investigative jounralist, goes under cover in three minimum-wage jobs: a housecleaner, a waitress, and a worker at Wal-Mart.

13. A Thousand Splendid Suns by Khaled Hosseini. This is a hard novel to read. But it also gives a glimpse into women's lives in Afghanistan. I was haunted (and continue to be) by it.

14. On the Banks of Plum Creek by Laura Ingalls Wilder. I read this series over and over again as a kid. In the 4th grade, I had gingham dresses and a sunbonnet. As young adults, Marie and I took the Laura Ingalls Wilder tour in South Dakota. I still have a soft spot in my heart for these books.

15. Roots by Alex Haley. I read it first on an educational challenge in 6th grade. My social studies teacher was looking for a project that might challenge me, so she suggested it. She had to get my parents' permission for me to read it for her class. I was a sheltered little white girl living in a monochromatic town. This novel opened my eyes to other realities.

Memorial Day Weekend in Milan

2009-05-25T21:05:00.007-04:00

We spent Memorial Weekend creating our new gardens. On Saturday, we build our new bed. On Sunday, we hauled soil. We'd had 5 cubic yards of topsoil delivered, but because of the lay of our property, the dump truck had to dump it farther than we would have liked. Today, we filled the other small beds with soil and then planted all of the beds.

The largest bed (from right to left) is: tomatoes, carrots, brussels sprouts, beans, peas, zucchini squash, acorn squash, and then space for potatoes and onions.

The left-hand small bed has chives, salad greens, spinach, and cilantro. The right small bed has oregano, two kinds of basil, and parsley. We also planted six tubs of patio tomatoes, which are on the deck. Oh, and we added some annuals to our mini flower garden. When it was done, we took Birdie for a ride and picked some rocks, to add to Michelle's repairs to the pond.

I'm sore and tired, but I'm also really contented. Mostly, my work isn't physical; it's far more cerebral. I found working physically hard very satisfying. And, I'm already anticipating a summer of fresh veggies. Michelle is cautious, calling this a test year for the garden. I'm hopeful.

That's a bear

2009-05-23T17:30:00.003-04:00

I went hiking this morning with Sally and her daughter Isobel. She was showing me some trails we might use for the upcoming "St. Barnabas Hikes" outing next Saturday. I brought Bird and they brought Clover, their "dog in law!" Clover is a great dog. She can run off leash and comes back when she's called. I was a teeny bit jealous, since Birdie can't ever be off leash.

Our destination was a little pond just off the Mahoosuc Trail. We were just shy of the pond when Isobel said, "Mommy, Clover is chasing a bear." Sure enough, Clover had treed a bear cub. It was pretty tiny and VERY cute. And, it didn't look particularly happy to have been treed!

We never saw the Momma bear, but we decided to turn around then and there. In general, bears won't hurt you if you are hiking. But you never want to get between a Momma Bear and her cub.

The worst part was that it really freaked out Isobel (who is 5). She wasn't really relaxed until we got back to the car.

For me, it was kind of exciting (and a little adrenaline producing). It was my first bear in the wild in NH and my first bear cub ever.

bumping against the system

2009-05-19T21:36:00.003-04:00

I went to the doctor's today for a physical. It was my first appointment at this medical clinic. The people were incredibly nice. I really like my new health care provider. We discovered that we lived in some of the same towns in Western Mass (though not at the same time).

But, starting in a new practice is always dicey when you're gay. First, there's the form. Are you: Married, Widowed, Single or Divorced. We'll I'm married. But not legally. Several years ago, I started making a new category on the form and circling it. I write in partner. It hardly even phases me anymore.

And then there's the "Are you sexually active?" question. You never know whether your healthcare provider is going to be cool with gay people. So, I always hold my breath when that question comes up. Today it was fine. In fact, I think my new provider (a great nurse practitioner named Alice) thought it was kind of cool. I think, if I understood her, that she has a gay kid.

I was relieved to have gotten through the two potentially dicey parts unscathed. Then, things got more complicated at the end of the visit. I had to go and register with the lab, because the lab is run by somebody other than the medical office and their systems don't talk. So, I went in, and had to give my info all over again. This time I had to respond to questions being asked by a lab tech sitting in front of a computer. You guessed it. First, the woman asked, "Are you: Married, Widowed, Single, Divorced."

"Partnered."

"You're what?"

"Partnered."

"Oh, I don't know if that's in there. Let me see." And then, imagine our surprise, when out of the drop-down menu down came Life-partnered. Wow! I was pretty psyched.

So then, she asked me who should be contacted in an emergency. I gave her Michelle's information. "Relationship?" she asked.

"She's my partner."

"Oh. Let me find that on the list." Another drop-down menu. Options included: friend, husband, grand-daughter, niece, and at least fifteen other choices. Big surprise, partner wasn't on the list. In the end, we had to choose "significant other." But, that choice really annoyed me. Michelle is my wife (though not legally, of course). She's my partner. Significant other is a descriptor for a boyfriend/girlfriend. And yet, we had to use it because it was as close as we could get.

I think I might have been less annoyed had the category life-partner not existed in the drop-down list. But if you're going to have it on the one, you REALLY need to have its corollary on the other. Most days, I can live with the ways that my life and love are invisible, or worse. But most days, I don't bump up against it quite so obviously.

My Friend's Wedding

2009-05-14T11:11:00.002-04:00

My friend got married a few weeks ago. It was a lovely wedding, small and intimate. The setting was gorgeous: a small park near where he lives. The day was beautiful. It was warm, the sun was shining, trees were blooming. My friend and his new spouse are clearly in love. I stood among the small group of guests, grinning from ear to ear. He's been a good friend for a number of years; I love seeing him so happy.

So why am I left with a bittersweet feeling, after what was, in many ways, a perfect day?

My friend is gay. [Note: THIS is not the problem!] He grew up in a religiously conservative family. Some of his family still don't know he's gay. Heck, some of our friends still don't know he's gay. The members of his family who do know chose not to be present for the ceremony. It broke my heart. They missed something wonderful. For a variety of reasons, my friend's marriage has to be on the down-low. I understand the reasons, and I support him in his decisions.

And yet, I found myself feeling a bit melancholy. It was odd to be so happy and feel so sad at the same time. At the reception, I kept looking at my friend and his new husband, so in love, and feeling sorry that the people who've loved him the longest were not there.

On the other hand, this was my second legal gay wedding (since our wedding was totally illegal). When I came out in 1988, I never expected to see legal gay marriage in my lifetime. Let's be real: when I came out in 1988, I never expected to live the out, proud life I live now. So that when an agent of the state said, "By the power invested in me by the state of XX, I now pronounce you wedded spouses," I got a little teary. Both times.

We've come a long way. We're making progress. I now have hope that in my lifetime gay marriage will be recognized nationally. I also have hope that more and more people who are inclined to distance themselves from their gay family members will come to see that we are the same people they have always loved. I remain clear in my conviction (which is just as scripture based as those who would hold another view) that God loves all of us, straight and gay.

What do the moose think?

2009-05-06T21:29:00.004-04:00

I walked Birdie up Milan Hill Road today when I got home from work. First, I noticed all of the moose tracks. The shoulder is very damp these days, and Milan Hill is clearly a moose byway. Each day, I see fresh tracks. In case you were wondering, the moose are definitely back! In short order, however, all of the trash intruded on my moose euphoria. There must have been twenty or more beer bottles in a third of a mile stretch, plus another couple dozen beer cans, some soda/pop bottles, and a digital pregnancy tester (I don't even want to know!). Moose tracks and a beer bottle. More moose tracks and three crushed cans.

I found myself wondering what the moose think of all the shit that litters their home. Do they notice it? (How could they not?) Does it disturb them? And I don't mean emotionally (the way it disturbs me!). I wonder: Does the trash get in their way? Cause them to change their behavior?

And what about the people who toss their trash out the window? I recently had a conversation about our disconnection from nature. It seems to me that one of the symptoms of humanity's disconnection from the natural world just might be the ability to litter without conscience.

Milan Hill Road is a beautiful spot. There are more trees than houses; you can see wildflowers by the side of the road. There are several marshy areas right by the road. And, on a good day, you can see a moose in a moose wallow. How disconnected do you have to be to throw a beer bottle into this?

Sometimes I walk with a garbage bag. But, it's kind of a losing battle. Tonight, I was simply sad.

Poetry, after all

2009-05-04T15:50:00.003-04:00

So, when I said several weeks ago that I wasn't a huge poetry fan, I just wasn't thinking. One great reader emailed me a Mary Oliver poem and I had one of those head-slap moments. Of course. Mary Oliver. Which got me thinking about other poets whose work I've enjoyed:

David Whyte

Billy Collins

Adrienne Rich

Rumi

Emily Dickinson

My favorite poet, however, is Taylor Mali. I first encountered him on a mix CD Meaghan gave to me. (OK, what really happened is that she left it in the CD player of my car when she borrowed it, and I was so transfixed by Taylor Mali's performance that I kept it for weeks.) The piece that grabbed me that day is called: Seventh Grade Viking Warrior. It came up on shuffle on my iPod today, which is what prompted this post. There I was, cleaning the bathroom and listening to tunes, and suddenly, I was weeping.

He's primarily a performance poet - and many of his pieces are on You Tube. I'm not a giant You Tube fan. I don't need to see babies doing strange things, or rollerskating cats. But poetry, I like. Poetry is a great use of You Tube. Many of his poems are there; all you have to do is search.

So, here they are, my two favorite Taylor Mali poems.

Seventh Grade Viking Warrior:

Like Lilly Like Wilson:

The other cool think about Taylor Mali is that he is (or has been) a teacher. He's passionate about teaching. About teachers. And about the high calling that teaching is. Another great poem to watch is "What Teachers Make."

Behold Challenge: Day 6

2009-05-02T20:02:00.003-04:00

I've been behind on posting some beholds, but I have been saving them up!

1. Behold! The sound of spring peepers that nearly bowls me over when I open the door to front deck.

2. Behold! The clear blue sky of spring in northern New Hampshire.

3. Behold! Red trillium, blooming in profusion in our yard and around our neighborhood.

4. Behold! Not one, but two, moose by the side of the road today.

5. Behold! The joy of running outside in shorts.

6. Behold! The wonder of exploring a beautiful poem with friends and colleagues. Check out David Whyte's "Working Together."

Our Yummy Granola Recipe

2009-05-02T19:51:00.003-04:00

This is the granola that my wife makes for us on a regular basis. Many folks have asked me for the recipe, and I've forgotten who. So, here it is for any who want to try it.

2 cups oats (quick oats are best)

1/2 cup wheat germ

2 TBS brown sugar

1/4 tsp salt

1 cup extra ingredients*

1/4 cup maple syrup**

3 TBS flavorless oil

1 TBS water

dried fruit optional: dried cherries are particularly fabulous.

Spray a 9x13 inch pan with cooking spray. Simmer syrup, oil, water.Mix dry ingredients together. Combine wet and dry ingredients. Either mix in dried fruit or top with dried fruit. Bake for 30 minutes at 275 degrees F.

*You can use any combination of: any type of chopped nuts, flax seeds, pepitas, sunflower seeds, or chopped banana chips.

**Instead of maple syrup you can use honey or [our favorite] brown rice syrup.

Behold Challenge: Day 5

2009-04-21T23:18:00.002-04:00

1. Behold! How cool the hail looks when it bounces off the grass.

2. Behold! It felt really good to run today. Hard, but very good.

3. Behold! Spicy chili.

Behold Challenge: Day 4

2009-04-20T12:48:00.003-04:00

I've been on the road for a couple of days, and not so much time/space/access to blog. So here a few beholds from the last few days.

1. Behold! The amazing green of the landscape in West Virginia.

2. Behold! Flowering trees.

3. Behold! The tangle of roots beside the path on the hiking trail at Sandscrest.

4. Behold! The lovely way the cooks here at Sandscrest have taken care of me, providing wonderful dairy and egg-free foods.

5. Behold! The gift of friends, old and new.

And, my favorite....

6. Behold! The sound of spring peepers. Hooray!

Behold Challenge: Day 3

2009-04-17T22:18:00.002-04:00

1. Behold! The beauty of the snow-capped mountains reflecting on the Androscoggin River.

2. Behold! The joy of celebrating our one-year anniversary.

3. Behold! How fun it was to have our rector and wardens' meeting outside this afternoon, because the weather was so gorgeous, today.

Behold Challenge: Day 2

2009-04-16T22:22:00.002-04:00

1. Behold! The joy of lunch with a new friend, and the joy of discovering shared interests and outlooks.

2. Behold! Little crocuses peeking out of the mulch at the LL Bean Outlet Mall in Concord.

3. Behold! How good it feels to drive into my own driveway and know that I am home. The "Concord Retreat" was fun, but there's no place like home.