Another Applepalooza

It was the warmest Applepalooza party--our fall family fun apple celebration with our friends and neighbors--ever.  At 70F+, the weather was more summer than fall.  This, just two years after we huddled around the fire pit with flurries swirling around!

The party was late this year, and small because kids and families are busier than ever, but I liked the quiet intimacy.  Besides, there were still kids running around and lots of little groups chatting.  Oddly, one of the main topics this year was ghosts.  A few of my friends are sensitive to spirits and told stories of haunted houses and visits from deceased relatives; others who have never seen ghosts were fascinated.

And of course, there were a lot of apple treats:  Swedish Apple Pie, my Grandad's Cooked Apples, my Apple Enchiladas, Sis's new Apple Dumplings, Apple Tart, Apple Turnovers, Apple Bacon Leek Quiche, Apple Crisp, Apple Doughnuts.  Yum, yum, yum.

I love this tradition, but I wondered this year--will we still have it when the kids are out of the house? At least I have several years not to worry about that.

Until then, here is a look back at the years I can find: 2008, 2009, 2010, 2014, 2015, 2016 and a compilation of apple recipes here.

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Grandad’s Cooked Apples

I remember Grandad teaching me how to make these, with Mom standing by, at the old stove at Raucous in a small dingy saucepan.  We stirred forever and he wasn’t good at clarifying what “jells” meant but they are incredible, especially served with fresh cream.

4 Jonathan apples, peeled and sliced

1 cup sugar

¼ cup water

            Cook with lid on until boils, then uncover and simmer until liquid jells (about 30 minutes).  Serve with cream.

                                                                                                            Grandad

Apple Enchilada Dessert

This was on the menu at the Cinco de Mayo party for MOMS Club when I agreed to run for president.  They were very good (6/06).

1-21 oz can apple pie filling
6-8" flour tortillas
1 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/3 cup margarine or butter
1/2 cup white sugar
1/2 cup packed brown sugar
1/2 cup water (some suggest reducing to 1/3 cup)

Preheat oven to 350. Spoon fruit evenly onto all tortillas, sprinkle with cinnamon.  Roll
up tortillas and place seam-side down on lightly greased 8x8 pan. Bring margarine, sugars, and water to a boil in a medium saucepan. Reduce heat and simmer, stirring constantly for 3 minutes. Pour sauce evenly over tortillas; sprinkle with extra cinnamon on top, if desired.  Bake in preheated oven for 20 minutes (some suggest adding an extra 10 minutes baking time or broiling for 5 minutes at the end).

Makes 6 large enchiladas.  May be cut in half to serve 12.

Apple Ideas for Next Year

Apple Brown Betty

1 ½ teaspoons freshly grated nutmeg
1 ½ cup sugar
3 cups l/4-inch bread cubes
2 tablespoons melted butter
Grated rind of 1 lemon
2 lbs large apples
2 to 4 tablespoons cold water (optional)

Preheat the oven to 375°F.
Combine the nutmeg and the sugar and set aside 2 tablespoons. Put the bread cubes in a bowl and toss with the rest of the sugar mixture, the melted butter, and the lemon rind. Peel, core, and slice the apples into fairly thick wedges. Line the bottom of a heavy 1 1/2-quart casserole with 1 cup of the bread cubes.
 

Layer half of the apples over the bread and top with 1/2 cup of the bread cubes. Layer the rest of the apples in the casserole and sprinkle with water. Cover with the rest of the bread cubes and evenly sprinkle the reserved 2 tablespoons ofsugar over the top.  Put the lid on the casserole or cover tightly with foil.  Bake in the center of the preheated oven for 40 minutes. Take the lid off the betty, and bake for 10 to 15 minutes longer, or until apples are tender and the topping is brown.

Baked Apples

4 medium cooking apples

1/4 cup raisins, dates, or other dried fruit

1/4 cup nuts, chopped

2 tablespoons brown sugar

4 tablespoons butter

1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon

1/4 teaspoon ground nutmeg

1/3 cup apple juice or water

            Preheat oven to 350°F.  Core apples; peel a strip from the top of each.  Place apples in a 2-quart casserole.  Combine the fruit, nuts, brown sugar, cinnamon, and nutmeg.  Spoon into centers of apples; top with 1 tablespoon butter each.  Add liquid to dish.  Bake for 40 to 45 minutes or until apples are tender, basting occasionally with the cooking liquid.  Serve warm with ice cream, light cream, or yogurt, if desired.

Better Homes and Garden

BRH'sApple Crisp

I loved this at the MOMS Club Thanksgiving potluck!

6 large apples, peeled, cored and thinly sliced

1/4 cup of water

juice of 1 lemon

2 cups rolled oats (I used the quick cooking kind)

2 cups all purpose flour

2 cups packed brown sugar

2 tablespoons cinnamon

1 1/4 cups (2 1/2 sticks) melted butter

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees.  Combine the apples, water and lemon juice in an 8x8 inch baking pan.  In a bowl, combine the oats, flour, sugar and cinnamon.  Pour in the butter and stir to make a crumbly mixture.  Spread the topping in an even layer over the apples and bake for 45-55 minutes, or until the topping is crisp and browned.

Mommy Hungry's Apple Crisp

This is the first recipe we really invented together and it is our favorite evening snack, dessert, apple food.

4-5 apples

lemon juice

½ cup flour

½ cup brown sugar

1 cup oatmeal

¼ teaspoon cinnamon and nutmeg to taste

¼ cup butter

salt

cranberries (optional)

chopped pecans (optional)

            Mix and bake in greased pan at 375°F for approximately 30 minutes.

            Alternates:  We don’t even measure anymore, just make enough mixture to cover apples.  Also, this can be made with other fruits, including pitted cherries, raspberries, and blackberries.

                                                                                                                        Mommy Hungry

PDA's Apple Pie

Now this is my signature apple pie, made for all holidays.  And as Grandma always used to say, “Apple pie without cheese is like a hug without a squeeze!”  Mama didn’t believe until she tried it.

¾ cup brown sugar

½ teaspoon nutmeg

6 sliced, peeled apples

¼ cup flour

½ teaspoon cinnamon

pie crust and crumb topping

            Peel and slice apples, soaking in water and lemon juice to prevent browning.  Heat oven to 425°F.  Mix sugar, flour, nutmeg, and cinnamon.  Stir in apples.  Cover with crumb topping.  Cover edge of pie with aluminum foil, shiny side out.  Bake 40-50 minutes, removing foil for last 10 minutes.

Crumb Topping

1 cup flour

½ cup firm margarine

½ cup packed, crumbly brown sugar

            Mix with fork and sprinkle on top of pie.

                                                                                                                        PDA

Lots of Little Things

I haven't made any final decision on the blog and, since I have a few stories, I'll post them.

Yesterday, at the drive-thru, the woman on the intercom greeted me in Spanish.  She apologized and switched to English.  When I pulled up to the window, she apologized again, profusely.  I asked, "Are you apologizing to me for greeting me in Spanish?"  Yes, she said; sometimes she gets confused switching back and forth.  I asked if she were bilingual and, when she said yes, I told her that was wonderful and she never needed to apologize.  I said I would have answered in Spanish if mine were any good.  But as I left, I said "gracias."

Last night, our Cadette troop helped out at the local food pantry.  When we arrived, more than an hour before it opened, there was already a line of 20+ people.  Inside, there were six rows of shelves, with a a few selections per aisle, and unlimited produce while it lasted.  A family of four could get some dried fruit, some canned fruit, 2 boxes of pasta, one box of cereal, two cans of tomato sauce, a jar of cocktail sauce, peanut butter, some meat or cheese or eggs, and a bag of day-old bread.  For a week.  Not much food, not much choice, no real brands.  And some of the clients were homeless, which means they only really could take food that didn't need to be cooked--apples, raisins, cereal, peanut butter, bread.  Others, were confused--I had to explain cocktail sauce to numerous clients--what were they going to do, run out and buy shrimp??  These weren't exactly foods that you could make a lot of different meals with--a family of four could perhaps make cereal breakfast, two spaghetti dinners, and perhaps chicken drumsticks with cocktail sauce.  We ran low on pretty much everything as the evening progressed, so that the only fresh vegetable was onions--and some took 20 or more, I'm guessing for soup.  Meat and eggs ran out, too.  The people at the end of the session had almost no choice.

I know that many of the clients work (and maybe that's why they came at the end of the evening); food insecurity hits more than just people who are unemployed or homeless.  Many brought small children.  Most were minorities (African American or Latinx), most were women, young and older.  There were a few white people, who had clear signs of mental health issues and learning disabilities.  As Sis noted, several clients smelled like cigarettes; I smelled urine, too.

It was very eye-opening for the troop and for the adults.  The girls were mostly sad--sad that people were hungry, sad that people were poor, sad that there was so little.   I was surprised at how little food they got, especially given that they only came once a week. And the quality was very low.  I know my family is privileged--I think I didn't realize how much.  I'm sure we waste more food than these 115 or so clients and their families get.  And, in the current political climate, there will probably be less rather than more.  I mentioned to one of the moms that I would have loved if some of the dads--many of the dads are Republicans, though married to Democrats--had been there, though I can just hear the racism and classism ("I work to take care of my family," etc.)  And then if the GOP takes away healthcare too . . . . The girls were very mature, very hardworking (they carried bags and helped  clients figure out what they could take)--the volunteer coordinator couldn't believe they were seventh graders.  They were pretty quiet as they left after two hours of work, but dedicated to coming back to help at the pantry and later cook dinner at the soup kitchen.  And I think I'll be making more deliveries to the food pantry (though, they said cash is best so they can buy in bulk.)

Otherwise, I've been taking it slowly this week, mainly because I twisted my knee last Friday at hospice.  I thought it would stop hurting with some rest and wearing the little brace I have--I do this about every five years or so--but it's gotten harder to walk and I've even canceled going to hospice tomorrow.    I have an appointment to see my ortho next week and am still taking it easy.  Blah.  I'm pretty sure it's just a muscle thing but better to check.

It might as well be this week because I'm spending a lot of time online doing my Chaplaincy Care Volunteer training class, through Healthcare Chaplaincy and the Spiritual Care Network.  It's an online, introductory course for some continuing education credits; though I've been a hospice volunteer for five years, I'm taking the class to learn more of the theoretical underpinings of hospice and to explore the organization before I apply to do their Clinical Pastoral Education (CPE) unit
(which is much more involved--about 400 CPE hours vs. 18 ce credit hours) in the spring.  So, I've spent every morning this week doing the readings, watching the videos, and doing the assignments.  Not surprisingly, many of the assignments are reflective not the regurgitation of information.  And I've found it fascinating.

For instance, the discussion of spiritual distress clarified for me that I experienced such distress after my emergency abdominal surgery, which was a reminder of mortality. And my secular humanist, Buddhist-inspired Unitarian Universalism is not all that comforting about the afterlife.  I don't believe in heaven (or hell); I do not believe in an omnipotent, omnipresence authoritarian godhead.  Pretty much, when I die, I'm dead. And that's not all that comforting.  So for awhile after surgery, I wondered if I could change my beliefs to something with more of an afterlife, and, in the end, I just can't.  I go back and forth about the divine light inside of each of us, which rejoins the universe after death (because energy cannot be destroyed, accoring to our current understanding of physics), but it's not me.  And it's not my life.  As a parent with relatively young children, I find it very difficult to think of leaving them permanently now (even just thinking about it, much less being faced with it really), hence the distress.  How did I overcome it?  Hospice work helps and distance from the precipitating event allows me to go back to ignoring it on such a visceral level.  I'm hoping as the kids get older, as I get older, or if something forces my hand, that I will become better at thinking of leaving this life.  It's a practice.

About that little divine light within each of us; I'm thinking of it metaphorically.  It's been called our spirit, our soul, "this little light of mine." That which enlivens us, differentiates us.  Namaste. "The light in me recognizes the light in you." In me, it flares up at the smiles of my family, a beautiful sunset or view, the national anthem or other pageantry (like the Olympics), when I sing a touching song, when my cats purr.  It draws me to community, to service, to compassion, to love.  When I'm angry or sad or regretful or guilty, it darkens.  Yep, all those tried and true light vs dark metaphors (though as a white woman, I reognize the trouble in associating light with goodness, hope, etc., and darkness with the opposite.)  When my UU RE class visited the local synagogue this Sunday and spoke with the rabbi, he spoke of the divine light that Jews believe is present in them, first breathed into us by God with Adam.  There is no hell; when someone dies, the spark rejoins the divine.  The rabbi mentioned that this interest in a divine spark, an internal, eternal light, comes from the East and in that way is similar to Buddhism, Hinduism, etc.  (BTW, I personally got teary on that field trip when a young woman from the synagogue practiced her bat mitzvah portion on the synagogue's 450-year-old scroll that survived the Holocaust.  This Torah now helps initiate a new generation of young Jews.)

I'm also reading a book by John Pavolitz, the progressive Christian preacher who is active on social media in excorciating #45, the GOP, and religious extremists who hate on LGBTQ, feminists, and others.  I grew up in a family that was, at best, disinterested in Christianity (and all religions), if not somewhat hostile.  Even at a young age, I saw a lot of hypocrisy in the Southern Baptists I knew.  As I grew older, I saw more--people were religious but didn't seem to live out the values of mercy, charity, faith, love, etc exemplified by Christ.  Certainly, now that I'm an out lesbian, I see even more hypocrisy and quite often wonder then, why do people bother to be Christians then?  Except reading Pavolitz's new book, Building a Bigger Table, I'm starting to understand the appeal of Christianity, at least as Pavolitz describes it--a table with legs of radical hospitality, divesity, beloved community, and  . .. oh, I'm forgetting the last leg.  Still, those are all wonderful things.  Now I don't know much about Jesus--and I don't believe in a supreme being, much less his holy incarnation on earth and so I won't become a Christian--but I can appreicate the core values as Pavolitz sees it.  He also talks about the light inside of us, which reaches out to others.

And today is Diwali, the Indian festival of lights . . . and the chalice is the symbol of Unitarian Universalism . . . so I have light on my mind.

What else?  I learned about reminiscence therapy, where you guide older people, especially those with memory loss, through significant life events, like school or marriage, using objects (e.g. a wedding veil), music (wedding song), scent (fresh flowers), etc.  I actually had the opportunity to try it with one of my hospice patients that afternoon, as she had a letter about a family member's recent wedding.  So, we talked about her wedding, back in the 1940s, after the war.  A chuppah, breaking the glass, a white dress, and how it all started the family that loves and surrounds her today.  Also, one of the videos, this time on prejudice and professional, featured a therapist who said there are no first impressions--every time we meet someone new we are reminded of people we've met before or lessons we learned from our family and/or culture (such as racism) and so we have prejudices that are very hardwired and hard to overcome; as professionals, it would be our job to see these thoughts and then just set them aside. (As we say in Buddhism, don't believe everything you think.)  My first thoughts weren't about my own prejudices with regards to other people but how such prejudices affect how I see myself--how much I berate myself for being overweight, for instance.  I have a very strong, very negative inner voice that rarely quits (especially this week with my knee hurting), even when I can examine the thoughts and try to let them go.  I am much nicer and more understanding, for instance, about everyone else's body issues; just not mine.  As for prejudices I might carry with me to hospice, ironically, I used to be anxious about talking to elderly people because I couldn't understand them (on, say, Girl Scout visits to nursing homes) and would avoid it; I would rather have spent time with children with special needs, say (like when I worked at various camps.)  Well, now I spend a lot of time with sometimes very hard to understand elderly people!  Of course, the most obvious prejudice is racial.  I carry that baggage, too, but consider myself, to use the parlance, newly "woke." Or, perhaps, awakening.  I try to stay aware of my privilege and the challenges of non-white or non-privileged people, based on race, ability, income, gender etc.  I hope it doesn't affect my hospice work.  For instance, I do become very aware of racial issues (and am a bit uncomfortable) when I'm singing Harry Belafonte songs with Carribean patois lyrics to my white patient who loves those songs, in front of her Jamaican personal health aide, who sometimes sings and dances along!  But I will enter any room where I'm welcomed and treat the person in the bed and the friends and family around with all respect and dignity.

Whew! I think that's probably enough for today.

This Blog

I don't write as often as I used to, almost ten years after starting this blog.  Only a few people read it and, as they're friends, they can probably best be served by individual emails.  I haven't quite given up on it; I'm still considering shutting it all down, not sure if I'll keep it public or take it down.  It certainly served its purpose--to give me an outlet to express myself and to communicate with others far and near.  I will always keep it--so many memories, so many recipes!  What do you think?

Las Vegas

Really, are there any words left that we can say after a mass murder?  Nothing explains it.  Nothing can ever make it better.

And yet Bud asked me about it last night.  I used the Mr. Rogers line "look for the good," pointing out the heroes and first responders.  But that can't ameliorate 58 dead and 529 injured.  I tried to tell him about the book I'm reading--Karen Armstrong's The Case for God--I'm just beginning it, in the chapters that trace ancient beliefs in both logos and mythos, how God was not a "being" really, more of a divinity, a spark of life that is in everything.  I said everyone has a spark like that--him, me, the heroes and responders, only in some, like the shooter, it is shrouded in darkness, for any number of reasons (not inherent evil, though.  I don't believe in that.)  Then I try to tell him that Connecticut has one of the lowest gun murder rates in the country (I think we're third lowest), that we try to keep him safe.  Without making it scary, I hope, I also said it's why we try to treasure each day, try not to go to bed angry, kiss goodbye, and say "I love you," because you never do quite know.  We cuddled on the couch for awhile.  And I tried not to think if my body could completely shield his from a rain of bullets.

Back in the Saddle

I'll start this post by saying Sis is just fine.

Last Thursday, she had horseback riding as usual, on her beloved pony Murphy ("her" is relative; we partially lease him.)  She was out in the back paddock cantering (faster than a trot) and Murphy spied a wild turkey in the woods.  I guess Murphy doesn't like turkeys because he spooked and jumped sideways, but Sis continued her forward trajectory right over his neck.  She landed on her right side on the ground.  She says she didn't hit her head but did bend back a finger.  

When I showed up after the lesson, knowing none of this, the first thing she said was, "I fell off, but it's not Murphy's fault!"

In fact, she had the presence of mind to immediately grab his reins so he didn't spook again or try to eat grass (horses can choke if they eat with their bridles in place), something that is drilled into them. People came immediately to check on her and she got right back up on him.  So brave!

Of course, we don't blame Murphy.  These things happen--and she wears an expensive helmet because of it.  I teased her, "Did you think I was going to go out and shoot the pony like in Gone with the Wind?"  She was horrified and now doesn't want to see one of my favorite movies of all times.  (And that's not even a big part of the film, but I digress.)

Anyway, she started having headaches that evening and so we consulted with Goo, my brother-in-law who is now a doctor at a hospital nearby, and he said to watch her; nobody wanted us to go to the ER at night if we didn't have to.

But it did happen the day that it was announced that NFL player Aaron Hernandez had advanced brain damage (CTE) at the time of his suicide.  From multiple concussions.  So we were pretty vigilant.

We let her go to school the next day, but by Friday evening we were at the pediatrician's office because her head hurt when she moved too much.  No obvious concussion, but the doctor put her on limited activity for a week--no horses, no skating, no PE in school; we'll go back if it gets worse or doesn't go away (it hasn't completely gone away yet.)  By the way, did you know that cocoon treatments for concussions--no activity, dark rooms, not even much mental stimulation (like music or audiobooks)--is on the way out?  I didn't either.  Apparently it doesn't actually help children. The doctor was even more concerned about the aching middle finger on her right (not writing) hand and sent us for x-rays on Saturday morning.

Not broken!  Just sprained.

WHEW.  

I know missing all of her activities is a hardship, but, considering how awful it could have been, well,  I'd say we are lucky.   And my dad always says that it's better to be lucky than good!

As a horse-loving friend said to her, "Silly Murphy!"

Talking Faith

Today at Hospice, a Jehovah's Witness proselytized to myself and my fellow spiritual care volunteer about her faith.  I'm not sure how often I've been on the receiving end of such a strong impulse to convert me (even my Mormon friend doesn't try that!)  But she was so dedicated to her faith, supporting her through the death of her spouse.  I couldn't agree with her about her Savior and his Resurrection, but we all agreed on the importance of hope and community, which permeate most faiths.  We just give the light that sustains us in the darkness different names. Christ, God, Jehovah, Allah, Buddha, Spirit, Love, Mother Nature, Beloved Community . . . even science and humanity.  Afterwards, I spoke with my colleague, who is Jewish (and so was equally unmoved by the conversion attempt), and we continued our discussion of faith, hope, and community and how we functioned in a predominantly Roman Catholic environment. She likes Psalm 23 but rarely recites the Lord's Prayer, since it isn't about honest or true connection for her.  I've done the Lord's Prayer and "Amazing Grace" but not the Catholic blessing with the cross on the forehead.  For both of us, listening to patients and their families, truly connecting with them, serving our communities is a main tenet of our faiths, above and beyond communion, salvation, and witness.  Beyond this deep conversation, we talked kids and Connecticut.  I'm going to enjoy working with her.

The conversation reminded me of church, where I'm teaching RE this year--the kiddos' class, even.   "Neighboring Faiths" is the curriculum, which introduces kids to other religions--Judaism, Islam, Hinduism, Catholicism, Protestantism--through visitors and field trips.  I'm really looking forward to it, which is why I volunteered to teach (it'll help with my hospice work, too, even if most patients are RC.)  I think it's really important for the kids, too.  I learned through going to church with childhood friends--whoever I spent the night with on Saturday, I'd go to church with on Sunday (mostly on the Protestant spectrum, though--Presbyterian, Lutheran, Methodist, Southern Baptist, some Catholic, and my Hindu neighbors, though they didn't go to temple much.)    The kids groan a bit about going, but they know it's important to me.  And maybe, years from now, it will help them in their own discussions of faith and interactions with people of other faiths.  Or, they might even change faith communities.  Okay, sure, I'd be shocked if they became Catholic--like my cousin did, becoming a monk even--but I think as long as they kept to the spirit of UU principles--the worth of all beings, the importance of community, the responsible search for truth and justice, the respect for different sources of wisdom--well, it'd make for some good conversations.

Besides, having a better understanding of Catholicism will come in handy for our trip to Italy in the spring!

Getting Bigger

I sat with most of our Cadette Girl Scout Troop this evening, listening to each girl read a poem or piece.  How much they've grown since we started our Daisy troop back in 2009!  Taller--one is even taller than me, which rarely happens (I'm about 5'7"+ so women are rarely taller than I am, much less tweens!)  Besides just being tall, they are so composed, so mature--young women caught between childhood and adulthood.  So even as they read "If" by Kipling and "The Road Less Traveled" by Frost, and even "Everybody Dies, But Not Everybody Lives" by Prince Ea, they also read from The Velveteen Rabbit and Shel Silverstein.  And they giggled and danced around playing charades.  I've watched these girls grow up and I'm not sure I really even saw it happening, even though I've seen them pretty much every other week for over seven years now.  They were little, little girls and now . . . well, they're taller than I am.

And then last night, we went to middle school open house.  Middle school.  Talk about time flying.  Do you realize the kids are closer to college than to kindergarten now?  In less than four years, they could be driving.  I had been nervous about middle school for them, mostlly worried about how they would make new friends.  Academics haven't been much of a challenge thus far and they are both approaching the new school year conscientiously.  Still, honors classes, French, changing clothes for gym, 9 different teachers, school clubs, kids from three other elementary schools.  And teachers who are just . . . so clearly not elementary school teachers.  It's a lot to take in.  For them, too!

But I like my kids and the people they are growing into, so, for now, I'm only sort of nervous about the next five years.

-=-=-=-
Kid Tidbit from school already:  When his French teacher asked the class what French they knew, Bud quoted Hamilton, "Oui, oui, mon ami, je m'appelle Bud!"

Summer Fun is Over

Though we didn't do most of our list--at least not the little things like quilling or a Minecraft Server--we did have some big trips--Texas, Vermont, New Jersey, and Maine!  And the weeks not spent galivanting around were relaxing and rejuvenating.  All in all, a good summer.

Now to start my fall list!

1. Go to Vermont--oh, that was fun!
2. Sis's speedskating camp--she loved camp (with 2 Olympians and a national coach!) and we liked our wanderings around Jersey, including living history museums, lighthouses, great Malayasian food.
3. Go to Texas--Yes, we did!  And completed a subset of our list:  boat rides, driving the golf cart, fishing, tubing, sailing, fireworks, Mikeska's, Prasek's, Buc-ee's, Whataburger, seeing dolphins, walking on the pier at night, bird sightings (pelican, mockingbird, Mexican eagle/caracara, gray hawk, white-winged dove, purple martins, even baby buzzards), hammock time, chalk art, water balloon fight, birthday parties, visiting with family.
4. Family camp in Maine--marvelous!
5. Sis's computer camp--almost done! Pick up is today.
6. Bud's theater camp--he liked it and we thought the little production at the end of the week was cute.
7. Trip to NYC with kids by myself--nope, but we did go as a whole family to see Come From Away and Gulliver's Gate
8. See musical Come From Away--we "loves" it!
9. Beach outing--we went rock skipping and sea-glass hunting over the weekend
10. Putt-putt golf--well, at least Mama and Bud got in a round in NJ
11. Go to zoo--over Labor Day weekend; I liked the tortoises eating watermelon, while Sis loved the mini horses and Bud liked wandering around by myself.
12. Celebrate 4th of July--watching fireworks in TX
13. Celebrate Solstice--first full summer day at home so we have a free day and kids stay up late
14. Celebrate Mama's birthday with Studio Ghibli film festival--Yay!!  We've seen Totoro and Kiki's Delivery Service
15. Birthday parties for kids--birthday pinata!
16. Kids cook weekly dinners--Bud started with shish kebabs!
See Spiderman Homecoming--we LOVED it!
Bird song e-course--I'm trying to learn the mnenomics
Zentangle workshops--I learned all about doing 3D designs, Dingbatz, radial blossoms, and "Delft Designs"
Summer Soul Camp workshop--it's going on right now
Clean basement--I did a really good sweep of the "front" part.  It's navigable again.
Gardening--I've cleared the bed in the back and planted some flowers
Read through magazine pile--I've made headway.

Hospice Thoughts

A Hospice Metta

May you be comforted.
May you be at ease.
May you be strong.
May you be free from suffering.

I've been working on the words of metta to fit hospice work.  Health, safety, happiness just didn't seem to be the right things to focus on.  And so I've been trying to think what I most wish for my hospice patients.  Strength instead of fear at the end of life, comfort and relief not pain, the support and comfort of family and friends, even hope for relief and good days though not a cure.

Since the middle of summer, I have been volunteering as a chaplain-in-training at a local hospice residence.  I go for several hours once a week.  As of yet, there has been no formal training beyond initial HIPPA, fire safety, and universal precautions.  I will have official in-service training later this fall, but they had wanted me to start right away.

I have been following various volunteers and the senior chaplain, going on rounds, going to IDT (interdisciplinary team meetings), learning about paperwork (oh, so much paperwork.)  The procedures have been a little overwhelming; there are just so many more patients than my one or two-at-a-time in my other organization.

But it is wonderful to have mentors with their guidance and support.  I've been often alone at my previous place (I'm still seeing my last patient, who is quite amazingly holding on.)  I'm learning new ways to interact with people and beginning to clarify my own style.  The senior chaplain even teste me last week; he had me go into a room, look around, and come back out.  I did and he quizzed me about the spirituality of the patients.  So, I guess absorbing and analyzing visual cues is something hospice and art history have in common.  That, and I'm much more adept at reading symbolism and religious icons than I otherwise would have been.

 One volunteer, who is a Catholic eucharistic minister but not quite a Roman Catholic anymore, has advised me that it's okay to give Catholic blessings with a cross on the patient's forehead.  I haven't been sure about this; indeed, I'm quite unsure.  I think prayers are one thing, but formal blessings in the manner of a priest are outside of my purview.  It seems to me deceitful, as if I could offer what a priest does (leaving belief aside.)  And so I don't.  Prayers, ecumenical blessings, wishes and hopes, listening, comfort, support, presence--these I can do.  For those to whom it has meaning, even "Amazing Grace" and the Lord's Prayer.  I would do similarly for someone who is Jewish or Muslim, etc.

In Unitarian Universalism, the first principle we affirm and promote is the inherent worth and dignity of all people.  And while it's not a principle per se, I would argue that we also support the idea of community.  For me, hospice work is about these UU principles--companioning the individual through the dying process, supporting their family and friends, doing this service for the larger community, so no one is alone.  For myself, I don't believe in heaven or hell, or even an afterlife.  But I know we all die and that it is one of the greatest fears anyone has, for themselves or their loved ones, almost regardless of their religious beliefs. My faith concerns the present, this life on earth, for it is all we know.  And so I sit with my hospice patients--the Catholics, the Jews, the Protestants, even the one Unitarian a few weeks ago--and I wish them peace.

May they be comforted.
May they be at ease.
May they be strong.
May they be free from suffering.

Thank You!

A HUGE thank you to our friends and neighbors for their generous support of our Harvey Relief Lemonade Stand!!  In just two hours, the kids raised $155 from lemonade, blueberry bars (with fresh blueberries mixed into the jam), and chocolate chip bars--our lemonade-stand staples.  So many people made donations above and beyond our prices!  It really was very touching.  The money will go to the Houston Food Bank and Houston SPCA.  (They started with just the pets, but we decided we needed to help people, too!  As a family, we've also given to Global Giving, the Texas SPCA, and the #underpantsfairies.)

It was a lovely day.  Bright with a cool breeze, our Texas flag flapping to attract attention.  So many friends came by, and not just neighbors on the street.  Though, pretty much all of them stopped by, too.  Even the kids' 1st/2nd-grade looping teacher came!  It was like a party.  (Only much easier to host!)

And it was a bit bittersweet--not because of Texas, though that is heartbreaking--but because the kiddos outgrew their wooden lemonade stand from our neighbor.  They're just too tall.  I realized that we probably don't have too many lemonade stands left in our future--I'm not sure I see 13-year-olds hosting them next summer.  So this might have been our last.

But it was the best one ever.

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(My tips for hosting a lemonade stand.)