Quick Takes: Heavy and Light

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I just didn't have the heart to talk about the election the other day.  I had always expected President Obama to be re-elected, or at least for quite some time now.  I had a good talk with a friend the day after about what it all means.

President Obama has declared war on the Catholic Church with his HHS Mandate.  I know that lots and lots of people, and even a majority of Catholics, just don't see this.  We voted for this state of affairs, and the gloves-off attack on religious freedom that's sure to come is entirely the consequence of our lukewarmness.  The President is trying to force division:  Do we choose the unborn and let Catholic service in the public square disappear, or to serve the poor and the sick at the expense of the lives of our smallest brothers and sisters?  It's an impossible choice.  We can't abandon any of our brothers and sisters and still be Christians.  Do we choose to follow the laws of God, or the unjust laws of Caesar?  There is only one choice. 

But it's going to require even more heroic grace than ever.  We are a weak people.  And there will be many souls lost in the battle.  Lord have mercy.

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So new political strategy:  Be a saint.

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While I try to figure out #2, I still have the everyday domestic things to attend to.  (Actually, those are my means to sanctity, as I've talked about a little bit here.)  Oh, yes, happy belated Feast of All Saints!

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The garden is finished for the year, except for five lonely heads of lettuce in the cold frame.  I'm going to miss our little (?) friend, the praying mantis who lived in our green bean plants and kept away all the bad bugs.  I can't count how many times I've thought, "How did I miss that big one?" only to find I was trying to harvest the praying mantis!  Anthony always had to look for him each time we went out to pick some green beans.  He called him his "pet" and would in fact pet him.  Katie Rose thinks he's funny too.

 

 

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We pulled out all of our carrots, even though we're a ways from a hard freeze.  Most of them would have been respectable radishes, but they probably weren't going to get much bigger at this point.  Some of them were getting eaten by clusters of little grey bugs, so I thought it's probably better to take away their food source.  We'd been pulling them up periodically, so this final haul is probably about 1/4 of the total carrot yield.  I'll definitely grow them again next year, but I'll try harder to space them properly to begin with.  Thinning carrots is a sad job, and I mostly left them too close together to really get to be a decent size.

 



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14 pounds of green tomatoes.  Most of them went to make green tomato relish.  That project took up half of the day on Tuesday, so I wasn't just fretting about the election.  It's quite good!  This might not make sense, but it tastes old-fashioned.  Green tomato relish is the embodiment of the old-time idea of never letting anything go to waste. It looks really Christmasy, green with bits of red.  The recipe yielded over a GALLON of relish, so I think some of these jars are destined to be Christmas gifts.

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There's a runaway train of clean but unfolded laundry behind me as I'm typing this.  I should get Anthony down for his nap and deal with that.

 

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Quick Takes!

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My parents and younger sister were here visiting all last week.  It was super super hot, so we did a lot of indoor things and splashed in the big fountain at Sawyer Point.  But we didn't take many pictures.  Or at least Teresa hasn't e-mailed them to me yet. By far the most exciting event of their stay happened on the Fourth of July.  A power line burst and was shooting sparks all over the sidewalk directly in front of our house.  Our guardian angels were taking care of us, and our neighbor's bushes, which miraculously did not go up in flames in the heat and dry weather.  But that wasn't the most exciting part.  The exciting part was that there were fire trucks, police cars, and power company trucks all RIGHT IN FRONT OF OUR HOUSE!!!  Then the line burst again and they all came back!

This photo is after a solid hour of truck watching.  We couldn't tear Anthony away.

Aunt Teresa.  Anthony calls her "Essa."  Now so do I.



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I took Anthony to see even MORE TRUCKS this week.  A nearby township hosted "Touch a Truck."  Kids can climb onto garbage trucks, construction vehicles, a city bus, a Medivac helicopter, a fire truck, etc.  There were probably about 20 vehicles.  And 200 charged up preschool boys.

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2 1/2 months old!

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I've noticed that I'm in much better shape now than I ever was before children, even though I used to conscientiously work out then and never now.  I'll spare you the photographic evidence, but certain areas of flab I thought were just facts of life are gone!  It could have something to do with the daily walks/trots around the neignborhood wearing the baby and either chasing Anthony or pulling him in the wagon.  Or bringing the dirty laundry down two flights, a clean load up two flights, back down one then right back up again because I forgot something, then back down, then up again because the baby's awake.  Or scrubbing the dried-up jelly off the chairs.  I could do a whole post about how motherhood IS exercise.

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Eight cucumbers today! And lots lots more coming very soon.  I need to learn how to make pickles, and fast.

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We had a great summer menu last night:  Grilled porkchops and peaches, corn on the cob, cole slaw, and watermelon salad.  The watermelon salad is a recipe from my mother-in-law.  All it is is watermelon chunks, a handful of chopped parsley, feta cheese, toasted pine nuts, and a splash of lemon juice.  Fabulous.  Tonight will be chilled cucumber soup.

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Here's another quote from Abandonment to Divine Providence.  This one hit me hard yesterday:

"Faith is the mother of sweetness, confidence, and joy.  It cannot help feeling tenderness and compassion for its enemies by whose means it is so immeasurably enriched.  The greater the harshness and severity of the creature, the greater by the operation of God, is the advantage to the soul.  While the human instrument strives to do harm, the divine Workman in whose hands it is, makes use of its very malice to remove from the soul all that might be prejudicial to it."

Jean-Pierre De Caussade is a genius.  The first line is a good litmus test to see if I am really trusting in God:  Where am I on the "sweetness, confidence, and joy" scale?



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Domine Non Sum Dignus

"Domine non sum dignus ut interes sub tectum meum, sed tantum dic verbo et sanabitur anima mea."  ("Lord, I am not worthy that Thou shouldst come under my roof, but only say the word, and my soul shall be healed.")

The centurion's words were also part of the Gospel at the Tridentine Mass today.  I didn't get to hear the homily due to a cetain small boy needing to go potty, but just about every homily I've ever heard on this Gospel has been about humility.  Certainly the centurion's humility is amazing, especially for a pagan in a position of authority.  Also his faith, because he did not need to see Christ come to heal his servant to know that it would be done.  Of course we repeat these words at every Mass.  Today what was amazing about them to me is that even though we are so unworthy, the Lord chooses to "enter under our roof" in Holy Communion anyway.

That doesn't seem all that humble, to accept Jesus even though we know full well we aren't worthy of it.  But this is just another one of the paradoxes of our faith.  The most humble of creatures, Mary, accepted the titles Mother of God, Queen of Angels, Queen of the Universe.  Of course she's perfect, but she is still a creature.  As his mother, she had authority over God Himself!  Certainly nobody merits that.  What makes it humility is to accept the will of God--not our own will, but His.  To say "no" to God's will, even if we say in our hearts it is because we are not worthy, is really just pride in disguise.  We are putting our own will over God's.  That was Satan's sin that cast him from Heaven:  "I will not serve."  It is not humility to say, "I can't do such-and-such duty of mine because I am so weak," and then give up trying.  It would be humility to say, "I can't do such-and-such duty on my own but since you have given it to me I will trust you to give me the grace to do it."  If God wants to make me into a saint, as he surely does, then grant me the humility to say His will be done and submit myself to the painful process of purification.  True humility will always lead us to greatness.

On the Eternal Consequences of a Dirty Floor

Some days, Mondays especially, it really does seem that "A woman's work is never done." We had a really nice weekend, weather-wise and just a nice weekend at home as a family. My husband worked on digging a raised bed (Yes, in January!), Anthony ran around outside a lot, I made pot roast and apple pie for Sunday supper, and we all just relaxed a bit. And the dirt and residue from this not-much-going-on weekend is all over my kitchen floor! My kitchen must have had a wild party while we were busy watching "A Man for All Seasons." I cleaned it just on Friday. I should take photographic evidence that that floor sometimes DOES look like it! For about five minutes. But it's not just the floor. Weekend evidence is everywhere. I'm sure I'm not alone in this on Monday mornings.

My dream kitchen floor. I like the yellow shoes, too!

The world might point to Mondays for a housewife and say, "See, it's pointless. Everything you do is immediately undone." But isn't all work that way, really? My husband finishes with one set of data, and there is another waiting for him. None of us are ever truly finished working until we die. That's nothing to be depressed over; it's just the nature of things. "Ah yes, but at the end of the month, he brings home a paycheck. You're just treading water." In housework, yes absolutely. If I really were just an unpaid maid and nanny as feminism would have me believe, I would be dissatisfied. I would be happier in a job. This study seems to think that's true!

But really, I'm not a maid with no life. My work is raising souls: Anthony's and the new baby's not to mention Ryan's and my own. Housework and cooking and kissing boo-boos are all just the background for this great work of developing human beings. The work of soul-building is really the only work that does last in eternity. Every architectural wonder, every Fortune 500 company, and every Nobel Prize will one day be gone. It simply won't matter. But it will matter if I was there to teach my son not to snatch books from the little girl at the library (Sorry, Elsa!). It will matter if I discipline my spirit to uncomplainingly clean that kitchen floor yet again. I never said it was glamorous! But it is important, because all these little day-to-day things will all help make our souls into who we will be in eternity. And that's the most important thing of all.

Maria Goretti

Four years ago today my husband asked me to marry him. Today is also the feast of St. Maria Goretti. I'd always prayed to her for purity in our dating days; I remember my high school youth minister giving us a "Prayer Before a Date" card that asked for her intercession. But today what struck me about her martyrdom was not that she died to protect her purity, but that she would not submit to being raped out of love for her attacker! She said, "No, Alessandro, you will go to hell." Even as he was stabbing her, she was thinking of the good of his soul. That is a saint. (A more complete bio can be found here. Also check out Alessandro's page!)

St. Maria Goretti showed extraordinary Christian love for the man who she knew would kill her, and sacrificed everything in trying to keep him from committing a mortal sin. As a wife and mother, I have a great responsibility for the souls of my husband and son, but so often I am lazy and not willing to sacrifice even twenty minutes for prayer for them. St. Maria, help me.

Daily Routine

While doing my Monday dust-through, I pondered today on the need we creatures have for rhythm and routine. Nature has the seasons, night and day, the cycle of life and death. The Church has Matins, Lauds, Vespers, and Compline; Sunday Mass and Friday penance; Lenten fast followed by Easter feast. The home has dishes and laundry, bathrooms and shopping day, spring cleaning and holiday decorating. Day in and day out, year after year, world without end Amen.

This Lent, I have really been working on establishing my set routines. Before I did the necessary tasks, but it was on a catch-as-catch-can basis, and there were times I found myself wondering when exactly I last cleaned the kitchen floor or begging my husband to help dig me out of Mt. Washmore. It has really blessed our family to know that the laundry will be done, the kitchen clean enough to make a meal, and something planned for dinner for which all the necessary groceries are on hand. That alone is enough reason to have a routine, but I've found more time for leisure activities that rejuvenate me and make me a much happier and relaxed woman. When I've successfully done my routines in a day, it really does give me a sense of accomplishment.

Why do we thrive on this sort of order? Beyond the practical benefits of knowing that when you open the drawer you will find clean underwear, I think it is because in my own small way, creating this small ordered universe I call my home is a reflection of He who is perfect order. Not that my home is pefect! Haha, if you came in right now you'd find a still questionable kitchen floor. Of course it doesn't help that it's white. But it's definitely generally improved over past months. Aim for progress, yes? To conform to an outward discipline is generally good for the soul in strengthening humility and charity, two of the most essential virtues. I'm sure you can come up with your own examples as this relates to housework. It of course also applies to one's prayer life.

So here is my weekday routine. Like everything else, it is a work in progress. This is really more of an ideal. It's a rare day indeed that absolutely everything happens in this order, but even having the framework established keeps me focused and on task if you will. Anthony's naptimes are changing now; lately he's been having only one nap at midday.

Morning routine:
-Wake up 6:15
-Morning offering
-Shower, dress, fix hair and face
-Quick clean bathroom (spray down shower, swish toilet bowl, wipe down mirror, sink, toilet, and floor. This takes two minutes and my bathroom is presentable!)
-Head downstairs with hamper of dirty laundry, sort laundry and put a load in the washer (on delay start so Ryan can get his shower)
-Empty dishwasher
-Make breakfast, look over calendar and to-do list while I eat
-I generally hear Ryan in the shower about now, turn on the coffee.
-Make Ryan's lunch, wash dishes
-Anthony wakes up: morning nursing, get him dressed, straighten his crib. (You may have noticed making the bed isn't on this list--my wonderful husband does that!)
-Kiss Ryan goodbye (very important!)
-9:00 Mass (bonus points for walking)

Daytime routine:
-Anthony's morning nap around 10:30- prayer time and cleaning (I have a rotation for this, another post perhaps)
-12:00 Angelus
-Lunch around 12:30

Afternoon/evening routine:
-Put away laundry from earlier
-Afternoon nap around 3:00- Mama's fun time! Sewing, reading, or talk to a friend.
-4:30-ish pick up around the downstairs
-Around 5:00 start thinking about starting dinner; Anthony usually feeds himself finger foods while I cook.
-6:00 Ryan comes home, Angelus, suppertime
-Dishes, playtime
-8:00 bedtime for Bubs
-Rosary, time for Ryan and me
-Make sure kitchen's clean, start dishwasher. I've decided to run it every evening because it's so nice to start the day with all your dishes that you need clean. Luckily, we have a "half load" option to reduce waste.
-Pick out clothes for tomorrow, hang them in the bathroom
-Wash up for bed
-Prayer and bed. Going to bed at a decent time is the hardest part!