Jelly and Celibacy

We ran out of jelly today, and so it is time for our annual pilgrimage. I, deep down, do love to buy locally grown. I love to know exactly who it is that I am supporting. St. Joseph's Abbey in Spencer is one of those places that you can't help but want to support. I mean come on, a bunch of lonely old guys making canned goods? Yes, you can have my money. We go there every so often and buy a box of 12 various jellies. The kids love to go in and pick out what they want. They're really good, and, plus, I kind of have a thing for monks. 

St, Joseph's abbey is truly a beautiful place. The monks bought 2300 acres of land in 1950 and landscaped much of it into little secretive corners tucked away around the monastery. The place exudes peace. Most it is off-limit to non-monks... a fact that absolutely kills me. These big red signs and gates make no doubt of where you are allowed and not. There are about 80 monks who live there. They are part of the Cistercian Order of Strict Observance. They really do make their own jelly there. In fact, the trappists only make jelly there. In fact... For a while, only two monks were responsible for making all of the jelly that came out of the place. The profits from their jelly-making brings in about half of the budget. 

I actually thought about interviewing the monk at the counter in their little store, but when I walked in it was a layperson, big let down. Still, I have been thinking of boldly announcing that I am writing a blog and asking if they wouldn't mind answering a few questions (and letting me into all of the secret, hidden away aspects of their monastery with full permission to take pictures and sneak around where ever I want). 

The inside of the chapel is so beautiful: old, gothic, full of artifacts, and some very smart monk decided to make all of the stained glass windows blue. It's like walking into midnight (sigh). If things were different I would be a monk..... I really would. 

The kids and I, on our second adventure :) walked the grounds and tried to find all of the little statues and mysterious corners of the grounds available to us. We found a tree that had definitely been struck by lightning (see pic) and a few other great places. When we went in the chapel, I told the kids that they had to be silent out of respect for the monks, which they were, and I think Nora took me very seriously. At one point, an monk emerged from a side door near us and Nora clung to me like there was no tomorrow. We waved and he waved back, and Nora relaxed. 

"Relaxed" is about THE word that I would choose to describe that place.... a sanctuary. Sometime, I am going to go for a service.... I heard they actually chant.... (sigh).

db

Adventure: day 1

Last year I tried to cheer Henry up, because he was sad that school was ending, by telling him that we would go on tons of adventures. The first day of vacation, I took both kids to try to catch some crayfish. Well, this year, I guess that Henry has decided it would be a tradition. So, off we went. We actually caught one last year, but this year was less successful. We did catch a water strider and we saw a few fish. We found a lunar moth wing abandoned on the said of the road.

The nice thing was that both kids got right in the river and waded around. The water was nice and cold at first, and Nora thought that it was a bit slimy... but aren't adventures supposed to be cold and slimy? I also took a few pictures on my walk with Chauc this morning. I think that this one, with the road and the  black bird might be my favorite picture that I have taken this year.

Henry just asked me what adventure we are going to have tomorrow. We might be up for a very adventurous summer :)

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Father's Day

So many people have problems with their fathers. I am so happy to not be one of those people. My Dad is genuinely the nicest guy I know. Happy father's day dad. We made him a pie, correction, Jen made him a pie. She made one for her dad too. Cards... the whole deal. They came over before she had finished baking it. It's all ok. It was a nice visit.

My day started early. I went to rietta ranch in Hubbardston. I actually woke at 5:30. This happens to me on vacation. The stress goes away and I wake up really early all the time. So, I went to rietta.

Rietta Ranch is an anomaly. It is a mixing ground of cultures all centered around what really amounts to junk. Yes, I bought stuff there today. I bought three books for my students and one (total trashy novel) for me. I also bought a crosscut of a geode for Henry... (50 cents!! YEAH!!) Jenny and I have this running joke about Rietta. We were walking there a few years ago when this guy stepped out in front of us and exclaimed, the hope evident on his face "Good morning folks, come take a look at my African Art." It was pronounced "Gud Monin fokes... cum take a luk at my AAAfricen AAt." Like he was from Jersey. Total running joke. And that's Rietta. These people, that I would literally walk away from if they approached me in .... anywhere... are now part of the experience and are, well, welcomed, and mixed in with people that I know and that look ok, like my friends Tom and Lucy who I met there, or my parent's neighbor Rosella, who I bet was there even though I didn't actually see her. I got there at 6:30 and the place was absolutely packed. There were people selling incense, soap, porn, old records, rip off baseball hats, dvd's, plants, motors, unrecognizable tools. Old Asian women selling round paintings of cat faces on ceramic disks. It was, and always is amazing.

I got home and readied myself for church: Type out song sheets, print out song sheets, shower, pack up everything, ask Henry if he want's to come with me, find Henry's shoes, pack up Henry's miscellaneous items, and off to church.

Church went well, second week with drums in the mix and it went off fairly well. Jenny told me that I could take us anywhere I wanted to for supper because it was father's day. I chose.....Duguay's Fried Chicken and Seafood. (btw, Duguay's, under spell check options, comes up as Druggies... interesting) Maybe it was because of my Rietta experience that I couldn't get Gardner out of my head, but.... yes.... Duguay's. The place burned down a while ago, maybe a year or two. I was devastated when it went. Although I really only go there like once a year, if that, it is the only place that I like for Fried Chicken. Without an option for decent fried chicken, life seemed a bit dull. I was thrilled when I heard it was reopening last year. This was my first time ordering since it burned. I am happy to report that the food tastes the same... GREAT! Chicken, Jo jo's, cranberry sauce and cole slaw! Yes!

I ended the day by watching half of "The other F-Word" a documentary about Punk Rockers that are now Dads and how they're coping with the responsibility. What a great movie. I'll finish it tomorrow. I need sleep time, I wake up early during vacation...
vacation
...... vacation

lets just keep saying it.
vacation
v a c a t i o n


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Ends and Beginnings

Possibly the best thing about teaching is that it ends... and then begins again. I really do mean the second part too. Let me not belittle the beauty of the end of the school year. I do appreciate being laid off for 3 months or so and having all of that time to spend with my kids and family. I really do love it. But as far as working goes, a little known secret treasure that is a teacher's occupation, is that the whole thing ends and begins again annually.

I get to think about what was successful this year and make changes and rethink and produce a newer, better product every year. The true joy of this can only be appreciated by those that experience it. I am already fine tuning things for next year...sacrilege I know. The first picture is my classroom. It doesn't look like that anymore mind you. Everything is all tucked away in closets and the floor is clear of desks....... hibernating.

Today is Saturday. It isn't really vacation yet. It's the weekend. It normally takes a couple of weeks to feel the pounds of pressure that is my life dwindle and fade. Still, I have this little buzz in the back of my brain sounding off about the lack of responsibility I have come Monday.

I woke fairly early this morning, and Henry and I went for our walk. We found some raccoon prints and the cedar waxwings were out :) I actually started reading a book (I can only really do this in the summer as correcting is my world all school year). I cut some brush that was drowning out my gooseberry bushes. They are doing fine by the way, because I know how interested all of you are in my gooseberry bushes. I read up on them today and found that they will probably be ripe around mid July. I made barbecued shrimp lettuce wraps for supper. I played with the kids in the yard. We all played a new board game that Nora just got tonight. It was a relaxed, nice day. Love these.

I just read a bit on the huffington post website ( I highly recommend btw. very interesting articles) about fathering daughters. I had pretty much heard it all before, but that didn't stop a few points from hitting home.

1. Don't just call your daughters pretty. Although I am sure they are, they are also brilliant and hardworking.

2. Allow your daughter to say no and have that decision carry weight. Teach them that their words are powerful right from when they are young.

3. Let them fall asleep with you while they are still young enough to want to.

In other news, Henry had his first fencing lesson of the year. He attended a few last year. I am trying to help him get over being so tentative. KILL HENRY KILL!! He just ballet steps around and swats at people.... DESTROY HENRY! TEAR the teacher a new breathing HOLE!! I hope it will seep in somehow.

Its a small world after all

This is going to be a difficult thing to put into writing. I am good, new, but good friends with the Nyman family from Chicago. They moved to worcester, started going to our church and came to the soup group/Bible study we go to on Monday. We are close enough now to start going on vacations together, they have watched our kids, I started teaching their daughter guitar for free.... we're close. Today, Mike's parents from Chicago came with them to soup group while visiting for a week.

Jen sat down and started talking to Mike's Dad. I found out that they have a cousin that actually taught in the room that I teach in at Central Tree. Crazy right? It gets crazier my friends... oh yes.

O.K. Mike's dad, John, said that he actually grew up in Gardner. I thought that was funny because I grew up in Templeton. I asked him if he knew any of the Bronson's because they were kind of "known" in Gardner. He didn't remember their name. I thought, alright, understandable. Jen mentioned that my Mom's maiden name was Meunier, and he gets this little smile. He sits for a while and doesn't say anything. I thought I should mention some names, but right before I do, he says "Susan?" And I said, that's my mom, and he actually laughed out loud. He then states that he dated my mom for like a year when he was 16 and that my grandfather broke them up.

Is this weird enough for you?!?! They are from Chicago!!! Do you know the amount of stars that would have to align for this type of thing to happen.

I don't believe in fate... really... I mean it.... I don't! ............. fine... maybe.

db

The Goonies and Barre Falls Dam

Does this desire, to see the inside, to know, live in everyone like it does in me?

Henry had his outing with the boyscouts today at Barre Falls Dam. I have gone to this place since I was tiny. I actually learned how to ride a motorcycle on the driveway there. There is this cement building at the top of the dam that I have never been able to get into.... and it was bothering me.

I just need to know what its like! I need to see! Maybe its awesome in there? Its the whole Goonies mentality. Under every wishing well there really needs to be some sort of aqueduct of cave system leading to buried treasure and pirate ships. Right? I think so. It is no different with this building at Barre Falls Dam. You can imagine my disappointment when it looks primarily the same on the inside as on the out... cement.

Still, who knows. Maybe the lower levels are cool. :)

Henry also sat through a pretty cool presentation on hides and skulls. The two employees, each still comfortably in their teens, did a bang up job of keeping the scouts interested. They seemed like really nice kids, one of which was an eagle scout from Henry's troupe. I was almost an eagle scout (maybe we'll talk more about that later). :)

db

ps, don't you love Henry's hat? He decided a couple of days ago to put a feather that he found in our backyard in it (love).

Monster

I went for a walk this morning... I actually came down with some sort of mega-head cold. Its been pretty bad for the past three days. This is compounded of course by my inability to take decongestants. Wolff Parkinson White does not allow for such things. So... tough it out. I am probably better off for it in the long run anyway... At any rate, I went for a walk this morning. Its been a rainy week and I was happy to get out in the sun. The horseflies are back in all their glory, but I have found another side benefit to walking with a heavy breathing, hyper active dog. Most of the horseflies are content to follow his, sizable, carbon dioxide trail. Still, there were a few that tested my patience.

I got a few pictures that I like. I am keeping the little tendril one as my background on my ipad... I like it. On the way back to the car, this big guy was trying to cross the road. Chaucer, of course, rushed him and the snapper got all defensive. He actually snapped at Chauc and, very contrary to his nature (I have only heard him bark a handful of times) Chaucer let loose with a full blown volley of barking and stomping. It was pretty funny and also a bit heartening. I now know that if presented with something trying to hurt me, or him, Chaucer will actually give a crap.

In the end, I ended up picking the sizable thing up, he was about a foot long or so) and putting him in a large puddle down the road. That wasn't before he tried several times to definger me and actually let loose with some sort of very, very, foul smelling fluid that literally hit one of my knuckles and has remained in my nose since. Thanks for nothing big guy.

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