|
Beloved:
My hands are cut, scratched and bruised from hammer misses, hardware cloth and the drill vibration. I pray no real carpenters ever inspect my work closely. The walls are mostly level but not straight. Our mantra is beat it to fit and paint it to match. The hens live in our garage at night on on the screened in porch all day. Technically I have fourteen birds. Practically I have three flocks. The ten original birds have the run of the porch floor where the food, water, dirt bath and toys are ("toys" are a brush pile they like to pick through). The black and white hens I rescued from the shelter live on top of the nursery cage and jump to the floor for food and drinks when the other ten are dozing. Otherwise the big girls chase and peck them which sends them sqawking back to the cage roof. The two Buff Orpingtons, my youngest birds, live inside the cage where they are safe from the shelter birds who pecked one of them bloody two weeks ago. I tried putting them together but they hurt her again. She threw a fit about being put inside so this is the best solution I can find. How they are ever going to share the big coop is anybody's guess so for now, I keep them segregated for safety's sake. Josephine rules the roost. She's the biggest bird, a Rhode Island Red. She's first to the food bowl and gets her pick of roosting spots. The next nine take their cues from her. They even bully the little ones on her behalf. She's been the boss since they were babies. I thumped her with the broom handle when she was especially mean to one of the newbies, hoping she'd feel pecked. But it was to no useful end. Their ways are ancient and embedded, not likely to flex for my pleasure. So I watch them segregate and bully and submit and hide and every once in awhile, flaunt a little courage. Occasionally I'm tempted to imagine what it's like being God watching us do our same day in, day out routines of small minded self segregation. It's less amusing in humans I expect, given the destruction and suffering it produces. Not to mention the heartbreak. We are children after all, not chickens. For Love we exist, not entertainment, which is the good news. For Love our ways are not embedded but flexible, chosen and changeable. I pray this find day finds you choosing joy and contentment, gratitude and faith. ~ peace & prayers, pastor annette PS - Bill Coverdale just called to tell me his Aunt Ruth Coverdale Robison passed away on Sunday. She was her father's aunt (I think), the last of her generation of Coverdales. Her services are on Thursday. I know Bill would appreciate a card. Bill Coverdale 515 W. 6th Street 47401
0 Comments
Beloved: Rain. My purple and pink tulips are blooming, only they aren't purple and pink. They are yellow, orange, red, and some slighly pink ones. Turns out the only purple and pink tulips were in the pictures on the bags of bulbs. I am listening to the news this morning - all about Boston of course, the bombing. Three people died, one was a little boy which is always harder to bear. At least ten people lost limbs and 140 are injured. The images are so awful. I brought home four more chicks this weekend; two babies from the farm store and two rescues from the animal shelter; kids' Easter presents that didn't work out. The older two bullied and bloodied one of the babies. She's very sick with nasty wounds on both sides of her tiny head. Ben named her Argyle. He doctors her and we all baby her constantly, hoping she won't die. Feeding the others this morning I realized I need to baby the bullies, fetch them some worms from the garden and pet them. They aren't cute to me right now and I'm still mad at them. My niece said, "I'd be cranky too if I just came from a place with a hundred cats," which made me laugh and softened my heart a little. For better or worse, things rarely turn out exactly as we plan, hope or imagine. Initially we are suprised, horrified, angry, sad. The next moment we choose what meaning we will make; the garden is beautiful . . . . the world is full of helpers . . . . . the bullies can be taught to love . . . . From the meaning come our words and deeds. The sun is trying to shine and my yard is sparkling with light. Whatever this day holds, may we receive it with gentle joy and grace. ~ peace & prayers, pastor annette  Beloved: It is finally, truly, completely, beautifully Spring. I slept with the windows open which was lovely until the raccoon got on the deck at 4 am which caused the dogs to bark their brains out while running from window to window while the raccoon eyed them coolly through the glass. The raccoon is long gone and the dogs are fast asleep, of course, while I feel like it must be afternoon instead of 9:30 am. Nevertheless, the sun is warm and I’ve oodles of blooming daffodils. The lilacs and roses are leafing out. The newest hydrangeas will come back too. Most fun of all, the chicks are living outdoors in the daytime now. Their permanent home isn’t finished so they spend daylight hours in the screened in porch. I've emptied it of everything but some pots of dead flowers and an old wooden chair they like to sit on to see out. Raccoons can rip screening so the girls get moved to the garage for overnight. Their new digs bring out all kinds of entertaining behaviors. They've eaten all the leaves and twigs from the flower pots and are now eating the dirt. In the afternoons we take field tripes to the yard so they can peck for bugs and worms. I found them a great big fat grub worm but they refused it. Go figure. Sometimes two of them will be walking by each other and suddenly spread their wings and lunge at each other harshly. It's over in about two seconds and they move on. I wonder if new quarters require a new pecking order be established? They also play hilarious games in which one hen will suddenly run fast toward something only she can see. The others hurry to see too and find she was just kidding. They do this over and over and it cracks me up every time. If I sit quietly near them on the grass eventually they will settle down and all eleven of us just sit there looking around, listening to their distant relatives chirping in the trees. Some of them fall asleep but I don't dare lest a hawk is nearby. They are afraid of people. Soon I'll put away the book and laptop to attend Global Women and do the rest of my day. I like thinking how an entire little universe plays out on my screened porch when I'm watching and when I'm not. They have chores and fun. They maintain relationships and forge community. They overcome changes and deal with threats. They sleep deeply, drink deeply, and eat hugely. They grow constantly. They bring me far more joy than trouble. That's not so terrible an existence, seems to me. I'm glad I get to share it. ~peace & prayers, pastor annette
Beloved,
My Easter weekend was practically perfect in every way. The food and worship on Sunday was amazing. My niece, her husband and four little kids were with us and we had so much fun dyeing, hiding and hunting eggs. Come Sunday night I was happy tired. Come Monday, I was still too tired to make a menu and do big shopping so I just bought salmon with idea of grilling them. Alas, no propane in the tank. so I had to broil them. Using what I could find at home, here’s what I did and it was so good! The same amount of rice/salsa will work for up to six steaks and would also be yummy with chicken - or all by itself.
Preheat oven to about 450. If you have a cat, put him outside or he will drive you insane trying to get to your fish! After supper let him back in and reward him with a salmon sliver. Prepare broiler pan and lay out salmon steaks. Cut lemon in half. Slice one half into 4 thin slices and save the other half. Salt and pepper steaks to taste, top each one with lemon slice. Set aside and allow to come to room temp. Heat oil in heavy skillet and saute onion and garlic. When clear, add tomatoes and mango, heat through and turn off skillet. Cover to keep warm. Set the table. Jeff Smith, the frugal gourmet, wrote that it’s unhealthy to eat alone too often. So five minutes before the kid is due from practice, the spouse is due from work or the friend is due to share your supper - put steaks in oven and turn to broil. Set timer for 4 minutes. When it goes off, slide lemon peels off the steaks. Reset timer for 3 minutes. Please note - I’m not good at knowing how long things take to broil so I check and reset the timer often. Mine cooked in about 7 minutes but looking this up is probably worth your time. I fork one a little and consider them done when they are flaky inside and shiny outside. A bed of rice, then salsa with fish on top and lemon slice casually laying on the edge was pretty enough to take a picture but kids were hungry, dogs were back in the kitchen and the cat was giving us the stink eye from the kitchen window ledge so I didn’t. Instead we prayed and ate. It was practically perfect in every way. ~ peace and prayers, pastor annette |
I write a Tuesday morning devotional to members and friends of UBC. It is also posted here.
Enjoy! Pastor Annette Copyright
Everything on this site is licensed under a Creative Commons license, which gives you permission to copy freely, provided that you attribute the work to me, that you use the work for non-commercial purposes, and that you do not produce derivative works. Archives
July 2022
|
RSS Feed