Higgledy-Piggledy

This is my higgledy-piggledy garden-a what, you say? According to the Merriam-Webster dictionary higgledy-piggledy means in a confused, disordered or random manner. That's my garden, for sure, but I've done it this way on purpose.

For years I've wanted to be the type of gardener that finds pleasure and healing in working in the dirt, the person that gets lost in the plants and looks up to find darkness descending. That has been quite a struggle-too often gardening was merely a chore and more the idea of working in the yard, as we said in Texas. Weeding for fun? Not for me.

Until...I began to notice the flower gardens of a couple of my friends (Doug and Debbie, that's you). Each had a contained space which was a repository for cuttings and transplants from others, end-of-season annuals and perennials, and plants that would self-seed year after year. No formal borders, no graduated heights. In short, a beautiful higgledy-piggledy display.

I loved these gardens and when we moved to Maryland I asked Bill to dig up a space for one as a birthday gift. As you might imagine that is a lot to ask for, but two years ago my dear husband did just that. The first year was spent getting the soil ready, weeding, removing rocks and planting a big red rose bush that blooms all summer. At this point it was starting to feel like a chore, sadly.

And then the pandemic happened and I had time, lots of it. A neighbor gave me iris, I planted leftover Easter lilies from church, I went to garden centers and bought just what I liked with no thought of color scheme or blooming schedule. I began to be that person that goes out to weed for pleasure!

As you can see from the photo above it really does look a mess, but that's exactly how I want it. Most days in the late afternoon I spend some blissful time checking on it-trimming, weeding, watering, clipping blooms for a bouquet. I sit down in one of the blue chairs and just look.

Lately I've been thinking of my life in terms of higgledy-piggledy.  Director of Music at an Episcopal church, accompanist for a community chorale, spiritual director, retreat leader, devoted wife of 38 years, mother of dear Emily, Nana to 3 beloved grandchildren, daughter whose role is quickly changing, fortunate friend of many.  Sometimes I struggle to keep my life's garden watered, weeded and trimmed. And I wonder is it too full?

As far as the flower garden goes, though, Moxie is always there to help and here he is in the nasturtiums.

An Uncertain Season

The liturgical calendar says we are in Eastertide-do you feel that way?  I don't.  As much as I search for new life and resurrection in the everyday I am still beset by a low-grade, ever-present sense of uncertainty.  And perhaps therein lies the lesson-it's there, it will continue to be there for the foreseeable future, and I need to learn how to welcome it.

This is the first Easter in decades that I haven't come home from church and collapsed for a multi-hour nap.  My church held a "parking lot" service on Easter Sunday which was actually quite beautiful, all things considered. The congregation had to remain in their cars and communion was spiritual.  We sang a hymn, listened to a sermon and closed with a stellar recording of Handel's Hallelujah.  It was a gorgeous spring day and the birds added their chorus to ours.  It was an out-of-time and out-of-place experience with a steep learning curve, but ultimately a time of hope, filled with the Spirit.

As I was not worn out from Holy Week duties I had the energy to make a delicious Easter dinner, using my grandmother's china and the sterling from marriage #1.  Fresh salmon from our local market, newly picked asparagus from a farm nearby, and apple crisp from cold storage apples.  And a nice red wine.

So as we enter week six of the pandemic I am trying to be both productive and reflective. And I am ever-mindful of the sick and those out-of-work.  I'll close with a prayer which is comforting to me and which I believe-that Love's desire is for health and wholeness.

 Prayer for People Facing Great Uncertainty

God of the present moment,

God who in Jesus stills the storm

and soothes the frantic heart;

bring hope and courage to all

who wait or work in uncertainty.

Bring hope that you will make them the equal

of whatever lies ahead.

Bring them courage to endure what cannot be avoided,

for your will is health and wholeness;

you are God, and we need you.

Amen.

                                                                                          (from the New Zealand Prayer Book)

Quiet Time

So much has already been said about this time we are in-what can I possibly add?  I spend my days as many of you probably do-getting a bit of work done, taking more walks than usual, cleaning the house, catching up with friends and yes, watching Netflix.  Playing the piano is bringing much-needed joy to my heart and I still walk over to my church to work on some new repertoire for the organ.

And I pray...for my family and friends, our leaders, healthcare workers and everyone affected by this virus. I pray also without words, silently searching for what I might learn and how I might change.  As hard as it may be to admit, there will be good that comes from this moment in history.

I actually love all this quiet time, yet it is undergirded by fear of getting sick and fear of the economic repercussions.  Bill is at very high risk therefore I must take great care not to bring something home.  So, short of being extremely careful, what can I do?  The answer is cook! Healthy, heart-warming, pantry-friendly recipes which at least make me think I am taking action.

For years I've alternated between Moosewood Cookbook and The Barefoot Contessa for delicious lentil soups. As good as they are I was ready for something new.  Just last week I discovered the following and it's a keeper.

Sweet Potato Lentil Soup

1 large sweet potato, cut into bite size pieces

2/3 cup chopped onions

1 cup lentils, rinsed (any kind)

8 oz. diced tomatoes

1 cup carrots, chopped

1/2 teaspoon cumin

1 teaspoon chili powder

salt and pepper to taste

2 bay leaves

4 cups vegetable broth

1 to 1 1/2 cups water

1 tablespoon olive oil

1. In large soup pot, heat oil and saute onions and carrots until softened, about 10 minutes. Add seasonings and garlic and cook 1 minute.

2. Add bay leaves, lentils, sweet potato and tomatoes.  Add vegetable broth and bring to a boil.

3. Partially cover pot, reduce heat and simmer about 30 minutes, stirring occasionally. Cook until sweet potatoes are tender. Remove bay leaves.

This is a forgiving recipe-use what you have and season how you will!  Tomorrow I'll post my perfect-for-tea healthy muffin recipe.

Happy New Year

Last week I led a Quiet Day at a nearby retreat house. There were 18 of us there on a cold, winter day and we sat around a cozy fireplace in addition to bundling up and walking around the beautiful grounds. I asked the group to think about this season as a hinge between the old year and the one to come and the first question for silent reflection was what gift did you receive in 2019?

Having received too many gifts to even list I wondered how would I choose? But after a few minutes of reflection it came to me, the gift of friendship. Every day I am blessed by contact with friends from Texas to Maine, from childhood to now. I feel loved, accepted, respected. As I wrote about this in my journal I felt a smile on my face and warmth in my heart.

For several years now I've chosen a word for the year rather than some resolution impossible to keep.  The word for 2019 was plant.At the beginning of last year Bill and I had been in Maryland for 3 years and my feet were not yet on the ground.  I complained mightily about the traffic, the summer heat and humidity, and a seeming lack of enthusiasm for classical music.  Having lived in many different places I realized each location has its own personality and way of doing things, and to buck that only brings unhappiness.  It was time to accept, adapt and adjust. So, plan for the traffic, stay in the air-conditioning on a sweltering summer day, and listen to a recording or one of three classical NPR stations available.

Specifically, we've invited frequent dinner guests, attended community events, and hosted a neighborhood party.  And most concretely, with Bill's help, I started a new flower garden which first involved the most basic chore of digging up soil and tilling the ground.  Last summer it looked bare, with a few annuals and a couple of perennials struggling in the newly turned earth.  But little by little, year by year, it will become beautiful, assuming I put in the work.  You see, I took my word plant literally and it made all the difference.

Back to the Quiet Day, I asked the attendees to wander outside to look for signs of new life while thinking about an intent for the new year.  My intent came quickly and easily- write. For four years I have been remiss in writing this blog, which is one of the ways I notate and make sense of my life.  My intent is to post at least twice a month- there, I've said it aloud!  I hope you'll hold me to it.

Happy New Year