Catching Up

It has been a busy week and I have not blogged so here is the encapsulated edition:

I began yet another Urban Homestead project: Instead of posting the Monday Menu, we have started now a fourth little homestead garden - the life of a preacher is a nomadic one. I've planted indoor seeds to be transplanted later when the danger of frost has passed - that should give us time to build cold frames to protect from the first frost of the fall, a few short weeks after the last spring frost. We also ordered a rain barrel to accompany the twirling composter.

I've met the Presiding Bishop of the Episcopal Church, who spoke on Global Climate Change and violence. She encouraged all faithful people to live lower on the food chain, and reduce imports (and slow the negitive impact on the oceans that exponentially increasing shipping practices are reaking), and reduce consumption of "stuff" (she said it better). It was good to see state dignataries and other religous leaders in the Eucharist.

A 14 year old child has died and been buried in the church of his mother's parents. I've preached on this twice as the RCL lectionary provided both the 23rd psalm and then the typical burial readings from the gospel of John.

Fr. Diesel began to get better but just as he says, every time he feels better something bad happens... he felt better and the Sherriff called to say his adult son had been found dead. The week before he had given me the first complement ever on a sermon on the 23rd psalm and loss. This week instead of growing in strength he went to settle the affairs of his closest son.

We purchased a new viola for Chibi. We have really streatched: spending tax return and violin turn in, Grand parent contribution, and took out a loan. The Harpie musician was pleased. What me?...trying to please a critical authoritarian or trying to give my children the qualitiy I never expreienced? Maybe child #2 will simply know that we have supported her in every way possible to live into her fullness as a muscian. The quality instrument will hold value and give me pleasure even as an unaccomoplished musician bows across its alto voice.