Facebook posts from April
Another gorgeous bright April day. I enjoyed a solitary walk in the country. Am gripped by Jon Krakauer’s book “Into Thin Air” about the tragic Everest 1996 expedition, full of fatal flaws, and am also trying to get back into a writing routine. Also reading “A Man’s Reach,” a spiritual autobiography by Glenn Clark with interest and amusement.
Kids back at school, so long, quiet spring days, which I’m really enjoying.
Another manically bird-loud day. Lovely wildflowers springing up in our paddock and the fields around us. Our apple trees have delicate pink blossom; the cherry trees are covered with profuse white blossoms. Feel talked out after Writers in Oxford’s monthly Drinks and Digressions (aptly named!) and a fun parents’ reception at Zoe’s school. What an interesting, diverse bunch of parents!
Though generally the hearts of both adults and children sink at the words “Family Service,” we had good ones this Easter at St. Aldate’s. Jesus after his resurrection was as pithy, trenchant and incisive as ever, and his questions cut, once again, to the heart of the matter. His first words, practically, “Why are you weeping?” And then, “Be not faithless, but believing.” These two sentences are connected, somehow!
We went on a family walk and picnic to Lovell Minster, a picturesque ruined stately home by the River Windrush. The ruins blend in with the beauty of the natural surroundings better than the pretentious manor probably did. Huge bright yellow marsh marigolds bloomed in the water meadows. A picturesque dovecote! The river Windrush not only has a poetic name, but is so peaceful and tranquil. Another perfect April day!
Zoe, 14, is a gourmet cook. She tackled a 20 lb roast goose, with onion, mushroom and giblet gravy & complex stuffing. I, on the other hand, would like to live in the fairy-tale land of Cockaigne, where roast pigs run down the streets, squealing Roast Me, Roast Me, and there is no swine fever! Even better is heaven where, acc. to Revelation, never shall we hunger or thirst, and God shall wipe every tear from our eyes
Roy and I walked in Oxford University’s Harcourt Arboretum today. The bluebell woods were magical, spectacular–a sea of blue, waving and dancing in the dappled sunlight. It was like fairyland (whatever that is like!), an out of this world experience. The azaleas, camellias and rhododendron were also in full bloom. Absolutely lovely. I love spring!!
More Facebook posts from April
Anita Mathias Irene’s class is doing Joseph and the Technicolour Dreamcoat at school. Irene’s now crazy about Lloyd Webber musicals, so all of us watched The Phantom of the Opera last night, for the first time. Irene was terrified, and screwed her eyes shut, and now wants to watch the whole thing again while the sun is shining.
I and the the cleaning lady have cleaned out Irene’s room today. It is like the Room of Requirement in Harry Potter, Zoe says. Whatever we needed and missed is to be found there–under her bed!!
Irene has spent the last two days in an adventure camp, learning archery, fencing, kayaking and juggling. The girl sure didn’t get those genes from me!! Zoe has read 3 Twilight books in a row. Will someone PLEASE tell me what’s the deal with teenage girls and VAMPIRES?
Just watched La Cage Aux Folles, and laughed hard at bits: Still in old French comedy mode. Reading Mary Norton’s The Borrowers Afield to Irene, and loving her descriptions of the natural world. Very much like lovely Garsington in bloom around us!
Anita Mathias painted my kitchen and bathroom–first house-painting of my life. It was so satisfying that I could do for a livelihood (if the time could be leveraged). I am insufferably pleased with myself. Roy said, “Well, if THAT’S painting, why do people charge so much for it?” But there’s no one right way to paint–or do anything else!
Lilies by Mary Oliver
A poem by Mary Oliver
I have been thinking
about living
like the lilies
that blow in the fields.
They rise and fall
in the edge of the wind,
and have no shelter
from the tongues of the cattle,
and have no closets or cupboards,
and have no legs.
Still I would like to be
as wonderful
as the old idea.
But if I were a lily
I think I would wait all day
for the green face
of the hummingbird
to touch me.
What I mean is,
could I forget myself
even in those feathery fields?
When Van Gogh
preached to the poor
of coarse he wanted to save someone–
most of all himself.
He wasn’t a lily,
and wandering through the bright fields
only gave him more ideas
it would take his life to solve.
I think I will always be lonely
in this world, where the cattle
graze like a black and white river–
where the vanishing lilies
melt, without protest, on their tongues–
where the hummingbird, whenever there is a fuss,
just rises and floats away.
Ithaca by Constantine Cavafy
There is as much joy, as much of richness and knowledge in the journey as in the destination.
Ithaca
When you set out on your journey to Ithaca,
pray that the road is long,
full of adventure, full of knowledge.
The Lestrygonians and the Cyclops,
the angry Poseidon — do not fear them:
You will never find such as these on your path,
if your thoughts remain lofty, if a fine
emotion touches your spirit and your body.
The Lestrygonians and the Cyclops,
the fierce Poseidon you will never encounter,
if you do not carry them within your soul,
if your soul does not set them up before you.
Pray that the road is long.
That the summer mornings are many, when,
with such pleasure, with such joy
you will enter ports seen for the first time;
stop at Phoenician markets,
and purchase fine merchandise,
mother-of-pearl and coral, amber and ebony,
and sensual perfumes of all kinds,
as many sensual perfumes as you can;
visit many Egyptian cities,
to learn and learn from scholars.
Always keep Ithaca in your mind.
To arrive there is your ultimate goal.
But do not hurry the voyage at all.
It is better to let it last for many years;
and to anchor at the island when you are old,
rich with all you have gained on the way,
not expecting that Ithaca will offer you riches.
Ithaca has given you the beautiful voyage.
Without her you would have never set out on the road.
She has nothing more to give you.
And if you find her poor, Ithaca has not deceived you.
Wise as you have become, with so much experience,
you must already have understood what Ithacas mean.
Constantine P. Cavafy (1911)
The Lord is my Pacemaker by Toki Miyashina
The Lord is my Pacemaker
The Lord is my pacemaker – I shall not rush.
He makes me stop and rest for quiet intervals:
He provides me with images of stillness,
Which restore my serenity.
He leads me in ways of efficiency
Through calmness of mind, and His guidance is peace.
Even though I have a great many things
To accomplish each day, I will not fret –
for His Presence is here:
His timelessness, His importance will keep me in balance.
He prepares refreshment and renewal
In the midst of my activity,
By anointing my mind with his oils of tranquility.
My cup of joyous energy overflows.
Surely harmony and effectiveness
Shall be the fruits of my hours;
For I shall walk in His house forever.
A version of the 23rd Psalm
by Toki Miyashina.
Luther on the difference between himself and Erasmus
‘The difference between you and me, Erasmus, is that you sit above Scripture and judge it, while I sit under Scripture and let it judge me!’ Martin Luther
And Luther had the more fruitful, influential and world-changing life
The Peace of Wild Things