Rabbit! Rabbit! Welcome to November

Abraham Lincoln, All Saints Day, Altars, art, change, chocolate, Civil War, Constitution, Day of the Dead, exercise, Faith, Family, Food, generosity, Habits, Health, holidays, inspiration, Love, nature, poverty, pre-diabetes, pumpkins, rabbits, Thanksgiving, trees, Ukraine, Uncategorized, US Constitution, Van Gogh

My parents would often say, “Time flies when you’re having fun.” If this is so, I’ve had a one whale of a time in 2023. I don’t know where the time has gone, for I’d swear I just woke up in the bright new year of 2023, and now this year has grown a beard of some length. Indeed, the ground was bare, awaiting the warm breath of spring, and now it has experienced its first freeze.

Autumn is a time of transitions. Not only do the trees change colors, and then lose their wardrobe altogether, but we rabbits go from Halloween’s sugar high on October 31^st to overstuffing ourselves and the roast beast at the Thanksgiving feast on the Fourth Thursday of this new month. Then we segue into Christmas somnolence with yet more cookies and egg nog (spiked and plain). On occasion we tramp out to decorate the house or scour the woods for greenery, but those days are long gone for most urban dwellers. We’re going to buy from local providers or have it delivered online.

Some of us on the first day of November will still have some of the 35 million pounds of candy corn which are still produced each year. That’s about 9 billion pieces — over a billion more than there are people on Earth. As far as this bunny is concerned, this is 8,999,999,999 pieces of candy corn too many. I’m not a lover of this form of sugar; give me dark chocolate any day. Fortune reported the “dangerous” amount of sugar consumed by kids on Halloween — three cups of sugar in 7,000 calories of candy. For context: That’s 675 grams of sugar, or the same as chomping down almost 169 standard sugar cubes, according to a Fortune article published in 2017.

When I was a young bunny, sugar was so restricted in our home, my friends and I would escape our parents’ notice during fellowship time at church to go to the empty adult Sunday school classrooms. We knew where they kept the wonderful Domino Pure Cane sugar cubes for the coffee the grownups drank. We didn’t care for coffee, which was already gone, but the sugar we fell upon like pirates on buried treasure. We didn’t ever consume 169 cubes at once, since that would’ve destroyed the entire stash.

If these had been the 35 million pounds of candy corn, which are still produced each year for Halloween, neither I nor my bunny friend would have ever touched them. The idea about 9 billion pieces — over a billion more than there are people on Earth—are still produced today is incomprehensible to my bunny brain. I think the texture of corn syrup and gelatin isn’t my first choice.

Of course, when the weather turns colder, our bunny bodies sense the need to stoke our internal fires. We do this by consuming more calories, especially the quick acting carbohydrates we find in the sugars and starches that provide the instant “heat” boost our bodies crave. Actually, any food will heat us up, but fruits and vegetables don’t have the same appeal as warm, savory, and fatty foods do in colder weather. The shorter days and the decrease of light in the winter cause problems with our body’s biological clock and lower the levels of the brain chemical serotonin. Plus, many of us reduce our physical activity, so our exercise induced levels of serotonins drop.

We can overcome this loss by planning to be outside during the daytime and making sure to exercise at least 30 minutes daily. Having protein rich snacks and fiber rich soups with complex carbohydrates will help control our hunger spikes. Perhaps this transition time into longer nights and shorter days is why the First Wednesday in November is always National Eating Healthy Day (November 1). If we do only one new healthy choice per week, and add a new healthy option each week thereafter, we can transition our lifestyle into “Eating Healthy.” As a bunny, I remind my friends, it’s also National Vinegar Day—have compassion on yourself and on others. We can love ourselves and others into a better life with kindness rather than harshness. As my grandfather Bunny always said, “You catch more flies with honey than vinegar.”

All Saints Day and Dia de los Muertos both are celebrated on November 1. Both recognize the departed loved ones. All Saints recognizes both those who have worked miracles as well as those ordinary saints who have lived among us and given quiet witness to their faith. Dia de los Muertos, the Day of the Dead, is a three-day festival to remember the ancestors and friends who predeceased us. People decorate altars with marigold flowers, photos, and skulls in memory of the dead. They make special food offerings in their honor also.

All Soul’s Day on November 2 is a Catholic holiday to pray for the souls which aren’t yet in heaven, but are in purgatory. Protestants don’t believe in purgatory, so we don’t attend upon this day as holy.

Many of us do celebrate Cookie Monster Day on November 2, because who doesn’t like cookies?! The same goes for National Sandwich Day on November 3, for hot or cold, almost anything can be slapped between two slices of bread and get slathered with avocado or mayonnaise, and it’s good to go.

Sandwiches first appeared in American cookbooks in 1816. The fillings were no longer limited to cold meat, but the recipes called for a variety of things: cheese, fruit, shellfish, nuts and mushrooms. After the Civil War sandwich consumption increased and were sold both in high-class lunch rooms and in working-class taverns. A typical turkey sandwich in the 1980s contained about 320 calories, according to a report from the National Heart, Lung and Blood Institute. Twenty years later, a turkey sandwich contained about 820 calories. Choose whole grain bread if possible.

We seniors have more than time on our hand

“Fall Back” on Sunday, November 5, when Daylight Savings Time Ends. We get another hour of sleep on this day when the clocks go back 1 hour at 2 am. I won’t be awake to notice it, but I suggest those of you who aren’t good sleepers begin to look at your evening routines. Set a wind down time on your clock, watch, or mobile device. Let it remind you to turn on quiet music, read inspirational books, or begin your bedtime routine. Sometimes taking off our outside clothes and wearing our “at home” clothes is a signal to our mind to let go of the cares of the world.

Fighting over Van Gogh Pokémon Gifts at the Museum

Go to an Art Museum Today Day and National Chaos Never Dies Day are both celebrated on November 9 this year. I don’t normally consider chaos and art museums as being in the same category, but Disney has made several Night at the Museum movies that revolve around the trope of ancient Egyptian gods awakening to cause havoc. Actual chaos recently erupted at the Van Gogh Museum in Amsterdam when visitors realized the gift shop had already sold out of the Pikachu with Grey Felt Hat promo card, which was modeled on the Vincent self-portrait. Evidently a small group of fans descended on the gift shop, causing a ruckus, and buying out the merchandise. It’s now for sale on eBay.

Armistice Day marks the November 11,1918 anniversary of World War I, a war which began in August 1914, that few expected to last beyond Christmas. In 1921, an unknown soldier was buried in Arlington National Cemetery. This First World War was “the war to end all wars,” but we’re an overly optimistic nation. We’ve had a Second World War since then, plus many a regional conflict. Every time our battle ships show the flag somewhere, people think it’s going to be WWIII. Fear mongering doesn’t help the nation. We’re better and stronger than that. Plus, we have the moral duty of leadership: our country needs to show the world there’s a better way.

As I recall, both the North and the South expected the great Civil War to last just a short while, just as Putin entered Ukraine believing his army would roll into Kiev in mere weeks. Yet WWI lasted four years, WWII was six years (the US was involved only the four years from 1941-1945), and our Civil War was another 4-year slog. Wars aren’t so much “won” as lost by attrition: one side loses more men, materiel, and willpower so they surrender to the other. War is the most brutal way to settle our differences.

Armistice Day now is Veterans’ Day, November 11, but observed a day earlier (10^th) this year. We celebrate our veterans who do the difficult and challenging work of using judicious force against enemy combatants, rather than civilian populations. All of our enlisted personnel take the same oath to protect and to defend our Constitution against all enemies, foreign and domestic:

I, (state name of enlistee), do solemnly swear (or affirm) that I will support and defend the Constitution of the United States against all enemies, foreign and domestic; that I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same; and that I will obey the orders of the President of the United States and the orders of the officers appointed over me, according to regulations and the Uniform Code of Military Justice. (So help me God).”

We are an unusual people, we Americans, for our loyalty isn’t to a party, a president, or a person. We are loyal to the constitution, which protects our democratic institutions, values, and freedoms. We can be thankful for those who were inspired to write it, heard the prophetic call to amend it, and have the wisdom to keep us on the straight and narrow.

National Hunger and Homeless Awareness Week is November 11-19 this year. While the economy is recovering, the loss of pandemic assistance funds Is hurting lower income households. They are making hard choices: food or rent, medicine or food. The number of homeless veterans has decreased, but so has the overall population of veterans. The bad news is veterans are still overrepresented in the homeless population. As you prepare for your own feast this year, I hope you remember the hungry in your community. The best way to help is with a financial donation to the local food bank. The bank can purchase food from the warehouse food bank at greatly reduced prices, thereby providing more food per dollar than individuals can purchase on their own.

World Diabetes Day is November 14. Diabetes is a disease on the increase in the world today. In the US alone, over 37 million people have this disease and over 8.5 million have it but are undiagnosed. Over 96 million US adults have prediabetes, a condition in which their insulin doesn’t take the sugar out of the bloodstream well. Switching to whole grains, less processed foods, and adding more fiber to the diet usually helps lower the blood sugar. So does daily moderate exercise.

National Clean Out Your Refrigerator Day is November 15. This is a good day to practice this task, since you’ll be filling it up with excess foods if you’re hosting the feast, or you’ll be traveling away from home. If the latter, you don’t want to return home to spoiled food if the power goes off for any length of time. Ugh: I won’t regale you with the story of stench of the refrigerator in the garage which didn’t power back on after a power outage. Those outlets need to be reset manually because they’re in a “might get wet” zone. The refrigerator inside will come back on automatically. (This turned out to be a get rid of the refrigerator day.)

National Stuffing Day is November 21. If you bake your bread mixture outside of the great bird, it’s called dressing, but if you cram it into the bird, it’s stuffing. It’s safer to cook the bird without stuffing, also quicker. When baking stuffing inside a turkey, it can get get wet and mushy. If you make a flavorful stock from the turkey neck and giblets, you can make your stuffing moist and flavorful without turning it into mush.

If you live in a giant pumpkin, buy a smaller pumpkin for your pie

Pumpkin Pie Day is also November 21, so you can prepare this ahead of time if you wish. You can make a handmade crust or use a store-bought crust from the grocery. Pre bake it and fill it with the pumpkin mixture.

National Cranberry Relish Day is November 22. You can easily make your own with the juice of an orange, some sugar to taste, and cinnamon combined with a package of rinsed cranberries. Heat over medium in a saucepan, stirring frequently to keep from sticking. When the berries burst, reduce heat to simmer and reduce the liquid. Taste and adjust the seasoning. Take off the heat and put into container for icebox. Chill overnight to let seasonings combine. Serve cold as side dish.

Thanksgiving Day is Thursday, November 23. You’ve baked the turkey, and it smells amazing! Let me introduce you to pan gravy from the drippings. You need a little flour, about 2 Tbs; some pepper, about ½ cup of drippings, and 1 cup of hot water. Put the drippings in a heavy saucepan or skillet, add the flour, stirring constantly over medium high heat until flour turns caramel color. This is a medium roux. Slowly add hot water, stirring so no lumps form. Keep stirring till smooth, reducing heat. Add more water slowly if gravy thickens too much. Pepper and salt if necessary.

The idea of “thanksgiving” for the harvest is as old as time, with records from the Egyptians, Greeks, and Romans. Native Americans in North America celebrated harvest festivals for centuries long before Europeans appeared on their soil and before Thanksgiving was formally established in the United States.

In the 1600s, settlers in Massachusetts and Virginia had feasts to thank for surviving, fertile fields, and their faith. The Pilgrims in Plymouth, Massachusetts, had their infamous Thanksgiving feast in 1621 with the Wampanoag Native Americans. The three-day feast consisted mainly of meat: wild fowl procured by the colonists and five deer brought to the feast by the Wampanoag. A a stew called sobaheg was most likely served as a side dish to the main course. It was an easy way to make use of seasonal ingredients, for the stew often included a mixture of beans, corn, poultry, squash, nuts and clam juice. All are used in the traditional dish today, and all would have been available in 1621.

Potatoes weren’t around in 17th-century New England, but corn was plentiful. Natalija Sahraj

Corn and cornmeal were the main carbohydrates on the first thanksgiving meal. The first New England crop of potatoes was grown in Derry, New Hampshire in 1722, so no mashed potatoes were on the menu. Corn bread, corn mush, and corn puddings abounded, since the Native Tribes had shown the colonists how to plant beans, squash, and corn together to maximize growth of all three. The harvest of 1621 likely included beans, squash, onions, turnips and greens such as spinach and chard. All could have been cooked at length to create a green, pulpy sauce that later became a staple in early New England homes. Sweet dishes concocted from sugar or maple syrup weren’t on the menu, nor were honey sweetened deserts. At least, the Pilgrims didn’t have to save room for pie.

After the Pilgrims, for more than two centuries, individual colonies and states celebrated days of thanksgiving. The first national celebration of Thanksgiving was observed for a slightly different reason than a celebration of the harvest—it was in honor of the creation of the new United States Constitution! In 1789, President George Washington issued a proclamation designating November 26 of that year as a ”Day of Publick Thanksgivin” to recognize the role of providence in creating the new United States and the new federal Constitution. During the Civil War, President Lincoln called for a national Thanksgiving Day on the last Thursday of November after the Battle of Gettysburg. In the Great Depression President Franklin Roosevelt moved Thanksgiving Day to the next to last Thursday in November. After two years of public unhappiness, Congress passed a law in 1941 setting Thanksgiving on the fourth Thursday of November.

Thanksgiving, 1858, by Winslow Homer, Boston Public Library

During the week of Thanksgiving, from November 19-25 or 26, we have the holidays of Church/State Separation Week and National Bible Week. If you haven’t been giving thanks for your blessings up to this time, take a break, breathe, and rejoice that you are alive. Give thanks for your hands, your food, your breath, and your heart of love. Share this thanksgiving with someone else. If each of us gives a bit of hope to someone else, we can help others have something to be thankful about.

After the rush of Thanksgiving, some of us bunnies may need medicinal chocolate. November 29 is Chocolate Day. Depending on your personality, you can buy fancy chocolate to share, or you can enjoy it by yourself along with a good book and some lavender tea. If Thanksgiving Day was really overwhelming, National Personal Space Day on November 30 might be calling your name. We all have times in our lives when we don’t need hugs, either because of physical or emotional distress. Besides, we bunnies need to catch our breath before we dash into the Christmas season.

I’m thankful for each of you who read and share my stories.

Joy and peace,

Cornelia

Thanksgiving Pan Gravy From Scratch

2023 November Holidays Information from Holidays and Observances

http://www.holidays-and-observances.com/november-holidays.html

15 Mind-Blowing Facts About Halloween Candy Consumption in the US

https://www.businessinsider.com/halloween-candy-consumption-usa-facts-statistics-2019-10

Control Your Winter Appetite

https://www.webmd.com/diet/features/control-your-winter-appetite

History of Thanksgiving in America | The Old Farmer’s Almanac

https://www.almanac.com/www.almanac.com/content/when-thanksgiving-day

What the first Thanksgiving dinner actually looked like

https://theconversation.com/what-the-first-thanksgiving-dinner-actually-looked-like-85714

Is Stuffing Your Turkey Safe?

https://www.marthastewart.com/8163046/is-it-safe-stuff-turkey

Wall Street Journal: The American Diet Has a Sandwich Problem – Center for Health Incentives and Behavioral Economics (CHIBE)

https://chibe.upenn.edu/news/wall-street-journal-the-american-diet-has-a-sandwich-problem/

History of the Sandwich | The History Kitchen Blog | PBS Food

https://www.pbs.org/food/the-history-kitchen/history-sandwich/

Van Gogh Museum pulls its Pokémon promo card after opening day chaos

https://www.engadget.com/van-gogh-museum-pulls-its-pokemon-promo-card-after-opening-day-chaos-083349757.html

Rabbit! Rabbit!

art, Astrology, autumnal equinox, brain plasticity, change, cognitive decline, coronavirus, cosmology, Creativity, Family, Great American Eclipse, greek myths, Helios, nature, Painting, pandemic, photography, rabbits, Reflection, The Lord of The Rings, trees, vision

Welcome to August!

In the long summer evenings, after an extended car trip, and way beyond the too many times I’d asked my mother and daddy rabbits, “Are we there yet?” I would get their firm reminders I wasn’t to bother them any more, for they too were hot, tired, and daddy had to pay attention to the road. In the gathering darkness, I’d rest my blonde curls on the door near the open window. We had God air conditioning back then. We rolled down the window glass of our old Pontiac and drove as fast as the road would allow.

I’d watch the darkening shadows as the landscape passed by this opening, noticing how the kudzu vines changed the trees into strange and monstrous shapes in the growing gloom, but I couldn’t take my eyes off of these apparitions. I was certain if I did, they’d begin to make their way toward our family car. I think I was at the age of magical thinking, for I believed I could keep these haints at bay by my will alone.

The soft flup flup of rubber tires half melting on the overheated concrete road, combined with my brother rabbits’ body heat in the seat beside me, and the enforced silence of our parents who’d had a long day with their hyperactive bunny brood finally had an effect on my eyelids. Try as I might, I would fall asleep at my watch, only to be awakened by my daddy’s sing song voice as he tickled my toes:

“This little piggy went to market, this little piggy stayed home.
This little piggy ate roast beef, and this little piggy had none!
And this little piggy cried wee-wee-wee all the way home!”

I’d rub my eyes as he picked me up to carry me into the house and into my bedroom. On the way, I’d always say,

“I see the moon, and the moon sees me,
God bless the moon, and God bless me!”

Perhaps this is a generational gift in my family, for when my own dear bunny child was small, we repeated these same scenes until she was too heavy for me to carry. The moon blessing dates from 1784 and the little piggy rhyme is even older: 1728.

That latter date is when horses and carriages were banned from Boston Common. Since I went to school in Boston, I can attest no horses, carriages, or cows are now on the grounds of the Common, which is now a 50 acre public park. The Common dates from 1634, when William Blaxton sold the remainder of his land to the Puritans, receiving six shillings or more from each shareholder to purchase the land for this public land. This was the site of the Boston Massacre, in which five people died. One good thing about going to school in an historic community, everywhere you went, you weren’t far from history.

When I think of history, I think not only of the stories we pass down to the next generation, but also of the stories we weave for ourselves. How do we remember our childhood or our families of origin? This is a generational gift of privilege, for those who lost their families when they were young may not have memories to weave together. Refugees from wars and violence might not want to recall traumatic experiences. Yet Abraham, the father of the Jewish nation, is remembered as “My ancestor was a wandering Arameam” (Deut 26:5).

Some of us choose to write about our better days, for they outnumber our bad days. Everyone has imperfections, but each of us rabbits are still going on to perfection with the help of the good God above. Perhaps when we see the beauty of the full bright moon against a dark, clear night, our heart leaps inside and says,

“I see the moon, and the moon sees me,
God bless the moon, and God bless me!”

For some of us rabbits, nature brings us closer to God than anything else. The majesty of the summer thunderclouds rising in the heated air, and giving way to either refreshing rain or flashing floods, reminds us once again of the powers of God unleashed in God’s creation. The rainbow after the storm is the promise once again of that covenant made so long ago: the earth will never be destroyed by floods again. In the rainbow, in the light of all the colors, we hear God’s promise of love and care for God’s creation and God’s creatures.

I’m looking at a full super moon tonight, July 3, but August will have TWO super moons. Looking ahead to September 29, we’ll have our FOURTH super moon in a row. The moon on the 31st of August will be a blue moon. This is the second full moon in the same month. We won’t have another blue moon until May, 2026. This is why things that don’t happen often are called “once in a blue moon” events.

Once upon a time, we were agrarian people who eked out a subsistence living on the land. The persistence of The Old Farmer’s Almanac and other ancient weather wisdom lore is proof you can take the bunny out of the country, but you can’t take the country out of the bunny. Yet as our alphabetical generations accumulate beyond the boomers, like Lucy on the Honeymooners, we often “got some explaining to do” to make ourselves understood.

We can count the “Dog Days of Summer” among the sayings folks don’t understand today. The term has nothing to do with the four legged creatures known as our best friends, but instead, it’s an astronomical term. The name comes from Sirius, the Dog Star, which rises before dawn. We find it on a vertical line below the three stars of Orion’s Belt. Sirius was named from the Greek Seirios, which means ‘glowing’ or ‘scorcher.’ This is an apt description of the warmest days from mid July to mid August.

Aratus, a Greek 3rd BCE poet wrote in his astronomical poem Phaenomena, (p. 328 ff, trans. Mair):

“A star that keenest of all blazes with a searing flame and him men call Seirios (Sirius). When he rises with Helios (the Sun), no longer do the trees deceive him by the feeble freshness of their leaves. For easily with his keen glance he pierces their ranks, and to some he gives strength but of others he blights the bark utterly. Of him too at his setting are we aware.”

These Dog Days of Summer in the ancient Mediterranean were marked not only by heat, but also by drought and pistelence. This year, with an El Niño weather pattern, wild fires, floods, and extreme heat have settled on the area due to a heat dome, which the European meteorologists have named Cerebus, after the three-headed dog guardian to Hades. The ruins on the Acropolis now close from noon to late afternoon to prevent heat illness.

Although the ancient Greeks and Romans believed Sirius was the reason for summer’s intense heat, we know now that star is too far away to affect our weather. What does affect our weather today is the result of human activities. Back in the Eemian period, around 116,000 to 129,000 years ago, the earth’s axis was tilted more towards the sun than now. This caused our northern polar region to be warmer and grow trees, which kept snow from accumulating. As a result, the earth’s temperature was 2 degrees C hotter than preindustrial levels, while today’s temperatures average 1 degree C warmer.

Today, we have evidence of geographic drift caused by climate change in our crops. Areas once known for coffee or wheat are shrinking, moving further north or to higher altitudes. We also see shrinking polar ice sheets, which cause ocean levels to rise. More water, combined with more heat leads to more intense storms. We also have rivers of wind, aka the jet stream, which lock in the heat domes. These can persist for days, while the rest of the earth gets flooding and storms.

Not a Watermelon Chart: Similar to the National Weather Service’s heat index chart, this chart translates combinations of air temperature and relative humidity into critical environmental limits, above which core body temperature rises. The border between the yellow and red areas represents the average critical environmental limit for young men and women at minimal activity.

Extreme heat is the number-one weather-related cause of death in the U.S., and it kills more people most years than hurricanes, floods and tornadoes combined. Despite the fact that extreme heat has been the number one cause of weather-related deaths in the United States over the last three decades, the federal government has repeatedly declined to declare extreme heat a federal disaster. The US government has never issued a federal disaster declaration for an extreme heat event in the three times it’s been requested, even as heat domes and long, uninterrupted stretches of 100-plus degree days have claimed lives in cities and states across the country in recent years.

The 10 hottest years on record have occurred since 2010 and the month of June alone in the USA has broken over 1,000 high temperature records. The combination of El Niño, a warming ocean current, and climate change is the cause. The excessive heat in the oceans are causing coral diebacks, which have negative implications for future hurricane shore losses, since coral reefs break the incoming waves.

We bunnies can blame the Stafford Act for this. Natural disasters in the USA are handled by FEMA—Federal Emergency Management Agency. The Robert T. Stafford Disaster Relief and Emergency Assistance Act, PL 100-707, was signed into law November 23, 1988 when Congress amended the Disaster Relief Act of 1974, PL 93-288. Named for the Vermont senator who was instrumental in its passage, this is one of the 100 laws a President can use to declare a national emergency or disaster. Former President Trump used it to declare the COVID pandemic an emergency. It’s this Stafford Act that defines “Emergency.”

According to Congressional laws, a disaster emergency is “any occasion or instance for which, in the determination of the President, Federal assistance is needed to supplement state and local efforts and capabilities to save lives and to protect property and public health and safety, or to lessen or avert the threat of a catastrophe in any part of the United States in a Major Disaster.

The act defines “major disaster” as any natural catastrophe (including any hurricane, tornado, storm, high water, winddriven water, tidal wave, tsunami, earthquake, volcanic eruption, landslide, mudslide, snowstorm, or drought), or, regardless of cause, any fire, flood, or explosion, in any part of the USA, which in the determination of the President, causes damage of sufficient severity and magnitude to warrant major disaster assistance under this chapter to supplement the efforts and available resources of states, local governments, and disaster relief organizations in alleviating the damage, loss, hardship, or suffering caused thereby.

Fires of Mordor have nothing on Phoenix Heat

To get heat relief, it will require an Act of Congress. In plain speak, we’ll see snowfall before heat relief legislation becomes law in today’s divided and polarized congressional body. In the last century, we bunnies weren’t thinking about climate change, extreme weather events, or even naming our winter storms. Perhaps next summer we’ll begin naming our extended heat waves and treat them with the same seriousness as we give to hurricanes and blizzards.

In the meantime, this bunny has set her AC to cool and is keeping the ice bin filled and the tea jar full. I’m feeling the siren call of the school supply aisle, so I’ll find a cool morning in mid August to go buy ink pens, notebooks, and some postynotes. A bunny who keeps learning will always stay young. Building new pathways for the neurons is like cleaning out the clutter in our brain box.

Write now, Edit later. The stories are more important than the form.

I always recommend picking up a new skill or renewing an old one, for not only do creative activities give us an opportunity to focus on something other than how hot it is, but also we can enjoy our progress as we continue to work. If you’ve ever wanted to write about your family history, begin now, for the day will come for all of us when we won’t remember the ones we love. This bunny hopes you have bunnies who love you and honor you for who you’ve always been, even if you become the “one who comes to kiss me every afternoon at 4 o’clock.”

I’ll probably go buy my journal supplies on August 24th, and sit in my favorite coffee shop for a bit to drink in memory of Pluto, who was worthy enough to be a planet for my generation,but has been demoted to a dwarf planet because it hasn’t cleared its neighborhood of other objects.

I look forward to cooler breezes, falling leaves, and Pumpkin Spice lattes. See you in September!

Joy, peace, and iced tea,

Cornelia

The Project Gutenberg eBook of Gammer Gurton’s Garland, or, The Nursery Parnassus, by Joseph Ritson.
https://www.gutenberg.org/files/34601/34601-h/34601-h.htm

Teaching Early Math to Children—This Little Piggy
https://www-tc.pbs.org/parents/earlymath/pdf/LittlePiggy.pdf

Origin of This Little Piggy
https://www.rhymes.org.uk/this_little_piggy.htm

Boston Common Master Plan
https://www.bostoncommonmasterplan.com/history

Super Moons, Blue Moons
https://www.fullmoonphase.com/

What is a blue moon and when will the next one occur? | Royal Observatory Greenwich https://www.rmg.co.uk/stories/topics/what-blue-moon-how-often-does-it-occur

SIRIUS (Seirios) – Greek God of Dog-Star https://www.theoi.com/Titan/AsterSeirios.html

THE DOG DAYS OF SUMMER: European heat wave takes toll on tourists – Travel Industry Today
https://travelindustrytoday.com/the-dog-days-of-summer-european-heat-wave-takes-toll-on-tourists/

42 U.S. Code § 5122 – Definitions | U.S. Code | US Law | LII / Legal Information Institute FEMA STAFFORD ACT
https://www.law.cornell.edu/uscode/text/42/5122
https://www.fema.gov/disaster/stafford-act

Extreme Heat Is Deadlier Than Hurricanes, Floods and Tornadoes Combined – Scientific American
https://www.scientificamerican.com/article/extreme-heat-is-deadlier-than-hurricanes-floods-and-tornadoes-combined/

From Japan to Louisiana to Rome, Here Are Ten Heat Records Earth Has Broken Since June | Smart News| Smithsonian Magazine https://www.smithsonianmag.com/smart-news/ten-heat-records-earth-has-broken-since-june-180982562/

Rabbit! Rabbit! Welcome to May!

art, beauty, Civil War, inspiration, King Charles of England Coronation, Lassen Volcanic National Park, Memorial Day, Mother’s Day, Painting

If April showers bring May flowers, your bunny buddy now lives in a blooming greenhouse. Yes, record rainfall and stupendous snowfall are causing even the deserts to bloom. For years, the long-term drought in California has caused a lack of wildflowers. With the recent floods and deep snow in the mountains, the full extent of this year’s super bloom in California won’t be clear until peak bloom hits places like Lassen Volcanic National Park in the northern part of the state. Peak bloom is expected there in June or July, after all the snow there has thawed.

However, the second week of May is National Wildflower Week. The wildflowers growing by the side of public roads and in national parks are protected. Don’t pick wildflowers or their seed heads there. On private property, ask permission before picking them. Obtain seeds from reliable sources that cultivated the flowers for their seeds. When choosing flowering plants that aren’t wild or naturalized in your area, mimic their growing conditions. You may have to supplement rainfall with occasional watering and/or fertilizing. While we’ve had a good rain this year, xeriscaping or planting your lawn with wildflowers or local plants is a great way to save on water. It won’t look like a manicured carpet, however. Maybe your flowerbeds can get wider each year until the carpet is gone.

I visited the Lassen Volcanic National Park last October when I journeyed out west to visit the grand rabbits. While I could have flown over all this great land we call America, I decided to travel by car. We have too many beautiful natural treasures which we protect and conserve in our national parks. Also, after several years of confinement due to the pandemic, I had some pent up travelling in my blood. The park is 166 square miles large and contains the world’s largest plug volcano, which was first active 27,000 years ago. It last erupted in 1917 when the park was set aside.

DeLee: Great Dixie Fire, mixed media and acrylic paint

This is also the site of the great 2021 Dixie Fire, which started on July 13, and burned for 104 days. Five California counties and 963,276 acres burned. Why would anyone outside of the immediate area care about this? The forests in Lassen Volcanic National Park can store almost as much carbon as 600,000 Americans emit in one year. Unfortunately, park forests are dying from a combination of threats: increased drought, wildfire, and pathogens like beetles and blister rust. Lassen Volcanic Park rangers are working to protect vulnerable tree species through monitoring, research, and management actions whenever necessary and appropriate.

As a rabbit of faith, I live on this earth, and as long as I live here, I’m called to care for it, to do no harm to it, and to heal it where it’s hurting. This is the same calling I have for our fellow creatures, for the same God created us all and cares for us all equally. I love the wildflowers so much, I even stop on the roadside to take a selfie among them. The Highway Patrol in Liberty, North Carolina doesn’t take kindly to strangers taking selfies among their precious poppies. I was “checked out” and asked to “move along.” Perhaps they’re not used to rabbits with cameras? I do seem to attract the attention of the local law whenever I’m out photographing.

Other weekly celebrations we rabbits can enjoy in May are:

Week One—Be Kind to Animals Week and Nurse’s Week
Week Three—National Bike Week and National Police Week
Week Four—Emergency Medical Services Week

Some celebrations get the entire month of May. Among them are:

Asian American and Pacific Islander Heritage Month
Older Americans and Foster Care Month
Gifts from the Garden and National Salad Month
Lupus Awareness and National Blood Pressure Month
National Barbecue and National Hamburger Month
Date Your Mate and National Photograph Month
National Bike Month

May 3–World Press Freedom Day Rabbit Writer

In 1993, the UN General Assembly proclaimed May 3rd each year to be World Press Freedom Day. This is a UN Sponsored annual event. A free press is a bedrock necessity for democracy to thrive. When ruling powers control the messages which the rabbit population gets to hear, we rabbits only hear one side of the story. This discourages freedoms of thought and expression of opinion. While democracy sometimes seems messy, the voices of the majority will ultimately prevail. Yet the voices of the marginalized must be recognized and respected, for their rights can’t be curtailed to please the majority. A free press brings both voices to light.

May 4–The National Day of Prayer always happens on the first Thursday of May. This year it coincides with “May the Fourth Be with You” day. Each of these celebrations speaks to the deep need within the rabbit heart for a connection to a power greater than ourselves. At some point in time, each one of us will realize our ego self is really a false self or mask of bravado and competence. When we cast off this mask, we might feel naked toward the world, but God or the Force can finally fill our emptiness. Most rabbits will never take off this false mask, however, for being naked in God’s or the Force’s presence is unimaginable to us.

“Rabbit Handstand” wood sculpture by Teresita Gonzalez

May 5–Cinco de Mayo is always on May 5th. I was playing cards with some rabbit friends the other night. One has a grand baby born on Cinco de Mayo. “What day is Cinco de Mayo?” he asked. “It’s always May 5th, silly.”

“Why is that?” All the card players answered, “Because Cinco de Mayo is a date, like Christmas is a date, when something important happened.”

This is a group of white rabbits, as you may have gathered, but some of us have spent time in Hispanic communities. The Mexican army defeated the French army at the Battle of Puebla on May 5, 1862. This single military battle signified the defeat of a European colonial power, a victory for the Mexican people, and is the root of Cinco de Mayo. Mexican Independence Day is September 15th. We can celebrate along with our brother and sister rabbits by sharing Mexican food and drink, enjoying music, and dancing. And what rabbit doesn’t love the excuse for a party?

St. Edward crown for May 6–Coronation of King Charles of England has over $4.5B worth of jewels in it.

While we American rabbits cast off our colonial bonds back in the 18th century, some of us have never lost our fascination with the royal family and their sagas. Plus we’re always up for a celebration if it means drink and cake. After the death of Queen Elizabeth, her son Charles became King of England. His official coronation ceremony will be smaller in many respects than Elizabeth’s: only 2,000 guests rather than 8,000 and business or military attire will be worn, but no tiaras or ermines allowed.

Since 1066, Westminster Abbey has been the site for regal coronations , beginning with William the Conqueror on Christmas Day. The St. Edwards Crown weighs in at 5 pounds, so the new monarch will live out the saying, “Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown,” (Shakespeare, Henry IV. Part II, 1597). While the Crown Jewels are considered priceless, a 2019 study found in total, the coronation crown would cost $4, 519, 719. That would buy a bunch of carrots and then some!

Coronation chair with the Stone of Scone

The Stone of Destiny (also known as the Stone of Scone) is an ancient sandstone block weighing 336 pounds, which was used for centuries in the coronation of Scottish kings before being seized in 1296 by King Edward I, who had it built into a throne at Westminster Abbey. There it lay until Christmas Day 1950, when, in an audacious caper, four Scottish nationalist students tried to steal it and take it back north of the border. Eventually, in 1996, the stone was returned to Scotland. Now, top-secret and high-security preparations are being made to take it back down to Westminster Abbey for the coronation.

King Bugs Bunny wears Ermine and a Crown

If the rabbit ears on your Telly are angled just right, and your alarm clock goes off in time, you can watch special coverage from Saturday, May 6, from 5 to 10 a.m. ET on your local ABC station. If you have a BBC streaming service, they’ll definitely carry the public events, including the concert on the day after. This will be a public holiday in Great Britain, of course. Both Apple and Spotify have official playlists (link below).

Secretariat Wins Triple Crown, Jockey Ron Turcotte Looks Back at 31 Length Victory in 1973 Belmont Stakes

After the early morning British crowd, if you’ve swilled enough caffeine and nibbled enough scones (the pastry kind, not the stones) you can chill with a mint julep and the Kentucky Horse Royalty congregating at the Derby’s 149th Run for the Roses. This year, of the twenty horses lined up for the opening bell, eight have a pedigree traced to the Triple Crown winner of 50 years ago, Secretariat. No horse has ever matched his magnificence or personality. To watch him pull away from the pack and leave them in his dust was a wonder to behold. He’d be waiting for those stragglers in the winner’s circle when they finally crossed the finish line, and be looking at their sweating, huffing hulks, as if he were thinking, “What took you guys so long?” One of a kind, Secretariat won the 1973 Derby, coming from last to first, and five decades later, he’s still the Derby record holder at 1:59 2/5.

If you attend in person, the dress code is “Business Casual:” Jackets and blazers, vests, shirts with collars, sweaters, dresses, pantsuits, slacks and capri pants are appropriate. Hats are expected. If watching from your rabbit den, anything goes. Coverage is on NBC from 12 noon to 7:30 pm ET. The race itself goes off at 6:57 pm ET. That’s a lot of mint juleps, so pace your imbibing or you’ll miss the actual race itself.

On May 8, 1908 the US Senate voted against Mother’s Day! WHAT WERE THEY THINKING? Afterall, at that time, only men could vote and all the holidays honored men. Maybe those senators realized what side their bread was buttered on. A day to honor the Grandpaws might have passed with votes to spare. The women behind this cause weren’t to be denied. Even before the ratification of the 19th ammendment giving them the right to vote in August of 1920, President Woodrow Wilson proclaimed the second Sunday in May as a perpetual memorial day of honor to mothers everywhere.

We rabbits today can’t even imagine any of our elected officials treating us as less than our brothers before the law, disrespecting the 14th Amendment of our Constitution:

“No State shall make or enforce any law which shall abridge the privileges or immunities of citizens of the United States; nor shall any State deprive any person of life, liberty, or property, without due process of law; nor deny to any person within its jurisdiction the equal protection of the laws.”

Today some of our legislators seem to live in a distant century, having traveled there with the cartoon Sherman in Mr. Peabody’s WABAC (way-back) machine. I sometimes wish this way-back machine had enough power to transport its passengers back to the earliest days of creation. Maybe having a front row seat and hearing God’s voice in God’s act of creating the first human beings would work a mighty change in their hearts and minds:

So God created humankind in his image,
in the image of God he created them;
male and female he created them.
~~ Genesis 1:27

May 25–Carry a Towel Day. If you are at loss to understand this holiday, please read The Hitchhiker’s Guide to Understanding The Galaxy. When the earth is moments away from demolition by aliens so they can construct an intergalactic highway, Ford Perfect saves young Arthur Dent. Together they travel across space and time to find the meaning of the universe and return to save earth. If you aren’t into this holiday, the good news is it’s also National Wine Day. Splurge on a fine vintage, invite a friend or two over to share the conversation and discuss the meaning of life.

Memorial Day Celebration rooted in memories of our Civil War

Memorial Day will be celebrated on Monday, May 29, for the 3 day federal and state holiday. The banks will also close. Some of my Southern rabbit cousins still refuse to recognize Monday as Memorial, because “It ought to be on the 31st, like it was in granddaddy’s day.” I note they still attend the family picnics and shoot off firecrackers over the weekend. They are old bunnies and have gotten somewhat crotchety as the years have put a kink in their hop. I find myself getting older also, but I keep reminding myself each new day is a blessing and an opportunity for growth. I try to keep learning new things so my brain will keep adjusting to new challenges.

As the calendar passes from May to June, the weather will beckon us to spend more time outdoors, so let’s remember these words written in 1848 from the Rev. Charles Kingsley, also known as Parson Lott:

Attributed to Henry Peacham: Tinted drawing of Book 2, Emblem X: Cum severitate lenitas (Severity with Mercy), British Library, London.

“Never lose an opportunity of seeing anything beautiful. Beauty is God’s hand-writing—a way-side sacrament; welcome it in every fair face, every fair sky, every fair flower, and thank for it Him, the fountain of all loveliness, and drink it in, simply and earnestly, with all your eyes; it is a charmed draught, a cup of blessing.”

Or as the ancient manuscript illuminator wrote, Cum severitate lenitas (Even in harshness, there is mercy.).

Until June, I leave you with joy, peace, and rainbows,

Cornelia

King Charles Coronation Playlist https://www.townandcountrymag.com/society/tradition/a43399168/king-charles-coronation-playlist-spotify/

More May Holidays
https://www.holidayinsights.com/moreholidays/may.htm

Dixie Fire Statistics
https://www.fire.ca.gov/incidents/2021/7/13/dixie-fire/

Lassen Volcano National Park
https://www.nps.gov/lavo/learn/nature/climate-change.htm

Westminster Abbey Stone of Scone
https://www.westminster-abbey.org/about-the-abbey/history/the-coronation-chair

A Coronation F.A.Q.
https://www.nytimes.com/interactive/2023/style/king-charles-coronation.html?smid=nytcore-ios-share&referringSource=articleShare

2023 Kentucky Derby
https://www.courier-journal.com/story/sports/horses/kentucky-derby/2023/04/27/secretariat-descendants-2023-kentucky-derby-field-at-churchill-downs/69992169007/

Beauty is God’s Handwriting
https://quoteinvestigator.com/2014/05/21/beauty/

How Much is the British Coronation Crown Worth? https://britishheritage.com/history/edwards-coronation-crown-worth

Rabbit! Rabbit!

art, Attitudes, autumn leaves, autumnal equinox, brain plasticity, cognitive decline, Faith, Imagination, ministry, nature, Painting, perfection, poverty, pumpkins, rabbits, renewal, Rosh Hoshanah

Welcome to September

On September 5, we celebrate Labor Day, and our kids are already back in school. We’re once again slowing down in school zones in the morning and afternoon, and setting an extra plate at the kitchen table for our absent college freshman. We might even see the first fall colors when the Fall Equinox comes around at the end of the month.

September is when we set aside our summer white clothes and shoes to change our closet over for darker colors and longer lengths. My dear mother had a rule of never wearing white past Labor Day. This quaint fashion principle dates from before Memorial Day, which was instituted in 1868 after the Civil War. This rule helped to separate the old money families, who summered in the country and at the seashore, from those who stayed to struggle on in the grimy cities, which were polluted by coal fired engines. These urban families usually wore dark clothes year round, as the rich did when they returned to their city residence.

Air conditioning has changed this now, but wearing starched, white cotton still reminds people you either have money to send your clothes to the cleaners or hire laborers to do it for you. Or, you might just work extra hard to look like one of the first two. This bunny has reached the age of dripping dry all those cotton clothes. I actually do more ironing when I do a craft project, such as quilting, since those seams need to be pressed open to make a good square. As this bunny has aged, I’ve changed my mind about what I think is important enough to worry about.

September is also a time to reassess the three core myths which animate much of American life. These myths are we can give 100% to our work, 100% to our family, and 100% to our personal health. I don’t know about you, but I’ve never been able to do this type of higher math without going bananas or feeling significant amounts of guilt that I’m not doing enough in one of those areas. Eventually I learned I was only Wonder Woman in my fantasies, but not in real life. I also realized other people who managed better than I hired help for the housework to free themselves up for family time.

Somewhere along the line we’ve bought into the myth of the “ideal worker,” who “has no competing obligations that might get in the way of total devotion to the workplace.” The second myth is the “perfect parent,” who “always puts family first.” The last myth is the “ultimate body,” which is cultivated through diligent dieting and exercise, and doesn’t deteriorate with age.

The authors of Dreams of the Overworked, note in the digital age, when people can post curated images of their best lives, “Achieving even one of these myths would be impossible, but achieving all three is ludicrous.” If your daily stress has increased and you feel like everything you do isn’t enough, I suggest deep breathing with your eyes closed (unless you’re driving a vehicle!). Once you get some extra oxygen to your brain, you’re in a position to calmly reconsider your situation. Not all situations are hair on fire, unless you’re a two year old with separation anxiety. Most of us beyond this age have experience and memories which can guide our future behaviors. An ancient proverb is “Experience is the mother of wisdom,” or as my folks used to say, “The school of hard knocks is the most expensive degree you’ll ever pay for.” Live and learn. With age comes wisdom.

Now that you’re calmer, you can decide, “Do I have options? Do I have a support system with people who can help me discern my way? Can I lay down my false self image of competence so I can ask for help? Can I triage my priorities to say NO to the less important ones, even if it means not pleasing everyone in my social circle?”

Google it, Ask friends for recommendations, and Breathe!

Speaking of options, women are primarily responsible for housework and childcare, not only in America, but also across the pond. About 91% of women with children spend at least an hour per day on housework, compared with 30 % of men with children. The latest available data shows that employed women spend about 2.3 hours daily on housework; for employed men, this figure is 1.6 hours. Gender gaps in housework participation are the largest among couples with children, at 62 p.p., demonstrating an enduring imbalance in unpaid care responsibilities within families. This leads to women taking lower and slower career paths.

September 22 is the Fall Equinox. We’re already seeing signs of seasonal leaf color changes, due to heat stress and drought. Some call this “False Fall,” but I call it a sign of hope. Trees will drop their leaves in order to survive in extreme conditions. Although some claim plants are sentient, they don’t have a brain or consciousness that we can recognize. They do interact and react to their environments. Their first priority is survival. Photosynthesis and the subsequent leaf abscission after changing color is part of this process. I always look for the change of light which precedes this event. One morning last week, I noted the color of the morning light had turned cooler, and wasn’t the warm yellow of summer. I also had a spark of energy I hadn’t had before. I look forward to more daylight.

This bunny is very fond of September, since I’ve always been eager to start fresh and new. I always got new pencils and a new manilla paper writing pad when I started elementary school. Later on, as I progressed up in grades, ink pens with cartridges were a special treat. Even to this day, I keep my journals with hand written ink in good paper books. I love the feel of these materials in my hands. I probably would have stayed in school my whole life if possible. The day our brains quit learning something new is the day our minds begin to die.

That leads me to remind my bunny friends that Alzheimer’s disease is the 7^th leading cause of death in the USA and it’s the most common cause of dementia in persons over 65. While most of you may not be baby boomers, you young bunnies have grandparents or parents of that age. Today, about 6.5 million Americans have Alzheimer’s disease, but that number is expected to almost double to 12.7 million by 2050. Perhaps beginning September with World Alzheimer’s Day is a good reminder for all of us to be proactive about our health choices, so we can live independently as long as possible into our senior years.

I also like Positive Thinking Day, since reframing negative thoughts into positive ones changes our attitude, our behaviors, and then we get better outcomes as a result. If you don’t feel like being Batman on the 17^th, you can ARRRGUH yourself about, MATEY, as you Talk Like a Pirate on the 19^th. Bonus points if you wear an eye patch, earring, and tricorne hat or bandana on your head.

The Jewish New Year of Rosh Hashanah begins at sunset on the 25^th. It’s one of the four “new year” celebrations in their religious calendar. This one recalls God’s creation of humanity, as well as the legal new year. On this one night in September, when the faithful eat apples dipped in honey or other sweet sauces, they remember how God originally created humans in a sinless state and wish each other a good year to come.

Did I forget International Bacon Day? How can any rabbit forget bacon? Someone will cut my carrot rations for the future, I fear. But if I remember to keep the coffee pot full, I’ll probably get out of the rabbit hoosegow before National Coffee Day on the 29^th.

Some interesting holidays we can celebrate this month are: Better Breakfast Month (I suggest bacon, eggs, and pancakes on the weekend and old fashioned oatmeal during the week). There’s also Hispanic Heritage Month and National Sewing Month. Finally, every year on September 30th is National Love People Day. The purpose of the day is to show love to everyone—no exceptions. National Love People Day offers us the opportunity to show unconditional love, which many have never experienced. When we genuinely love our neighbors and express it with kind words and thoughtful deeds, we make our world a better place. This the true meaning of “love your neighbor as yourself.”

Maybe one meaning of loving your neighbor is offering a meal to them. Food insecurity is increasing once again, this time due to increased rents and costs of transportation. Consider a weekly meal service from your church building or organization’s meeting place. It doesn’t need to be fancy, but calories and nutrition would help hungry people have the strength to move on from their current situations. Joining with other groups to cover all the days of the week would be a bonus to your community, not only for the hungry, but also for the smaller groups who could team up to share in the blessing of loving their neighbors.

Until the spice is on the pumpkin, I wish all my bunny friends

Joy, peace, and Bacon,

Cornelia

America’s Ideal of Working Parents Has Become Unattainable – The Atlantic
https://www.theatlantic.com/family/archive/2020/06/working-parents-impossible/613429/

Beckman and Mazmanian: Dreams of the Overworked: Living, Working, and Parenting in the Digital Age

Gender differences on household chores entrenched from childhood | European Institute for Gender Equality https://eige.europa.eu/publications/gender-equality-index-2021-report/gender-differences-household-chores

Debunking a myth: plant consciousness | SpringerLink. https://link.springer.com/article/10.1007/s00709-020-01579-w

https://nationaldaycalendar.com/september-monthly-observances/

September Monthly Observances – National Day Calendar

International Chocolate Day

INTERNATIONAL CHOCOLATE DAY – September 13, 2022 – National Today

Home – National Love People Day – National Love People Day

Alzheimer’s Facts and Figures Report | Alzheimer’s Association
https://www.alz.org/alzheimers-dementia/facts-figures

Rabbit! Rabbit! Welcome to May 2022

art, coronavirus, Faith, flowers, generosity, greek myths, Holy Spirit, inspiration, Love, nature, Painting, poverty, purpose, rabbits, Spirituality, Turkey, Ukraine, vision

This rabbit isn’t ready for May. Even as I say “Rabbit, Rabbit,” on this prime morning, I realize time already is too quickly flying past. I knew this day would eventually come, but surely I thought, not yet. When my rabbit parents were long of tooth—I think they were over forty—they said they had a longer “to do list” than their day was long. I think this was the time they were sending me the golden “round tuit” so I would get my own to do list done. Parental units in every generation have always projected their problems onto their offspring, or perhaps their offspring inherit or imitate the adults’ tendencies.

May is a good time for spring cleaning. Every rabbit hutch or den can use a bit of freshening up after a long winter and a cold spring. May 17th is Pack Rat Day, an opportunity to touch those items once and for all as you decide whether they belong in a Distribute, Donate, or Dump Box. If you just touch and can’t decide, you may be one of the 15 million hoarders in the United States. The days are getting warmer with more daylight and global warming adding to the elevated temperatures. We can’t do anything about the length of days, as these are determined by our planet’s oribit and inclination toward the sun. As we move toward summer, the Northern Hemisphere tilts toward the sun and gets warmer. In the Southern Hemisphere, the opposite happens and their Christmas is warmer than their springtime.

May marks the end of Ramadan, the month long Islamic fast recognizing the gift of the Quran to the prophet Mohammed. In most communities in the United States, Eid begins at sundown on Monday, May 2, and lasts one to three days, depending on cultural tradition. Eid al-Fitr, which means “festival of breaking the fast,” comes after a month of abstaining from food and drink from sunrise to sunset in observance of Ramadan. This is a time of renewal, wearing a new outfit, giving charity to the poor, and resuming the everyday rhythms of life.

Some of us finally get our gardens planted, in honor of the Ancient Greek and Roman goddesses of May. The word May entered the English language in the 1050’s, developing from the Old English Maius, which was borrowed directly from the Latin Maius, short for Maius mēnsis, “Maia’s month.” The Greek goddess Maia was one of the Pleiades, who were the companions of Artemis, the goddess of the hunt. This Maia was the mother of Hermes, the messenger of the Gods. But the Romans had yet another goddess named Maia, who just happened to share her name with the Greek goddess. When later generations conflated the Greek Maia with the Roman Maia, a goddess of fertility and spring, we now celebrate May for growth and increase in the natural world.

Victory Gardens were in vogue during wartime due to shortages at home caused by food supplies diverted to soldiers fighting on the front. Original “supply chain problems.”

If we want to “go green,” in our gardens, we can practice composting our lawn clippings along with any brand of manure. This will enrich our earth with earthworms and organic materials. We can also practice “crop rotation.” This means we plant our tomatoes ina different plot every year so we don’t deplete the soil of certain nutrients or invite nematodes to eat the roots. As a spiritual practice, gardening calms the mind, for it connects us to the earth and the source of our food. Our forebears supplemented their menus in the hard times in days of old with fresh food from home gardens. Community gardens serve the public in urban areas.

An April Bunny’s Bad Hair, Don’t Care Day

Spring reminds us the seasons of the year are balanced, for we have a cold winter and a hot summer, just as we have a middling spring and autumn. I say “middling,” but I might have said “muddling,” for these two seasons in my corner of Rabbitville are marked by rain and mud. Torrents of rain, drenches of rain, and sometimes mere drizzles of rain. Some of us rabbits may have bad hair days, but I hear all this moisture is good for the face and the skin.

In our world, the great powers also attempt to maintain balance and influence. Two world wars will push nations into this choice, but nations rise and fall. Once Great Britain was the world’s great super power, but after these great wars, it was greatly diminished, while the United States, which was the source of Britain’s war materials, prospered. Germany, was cut off from international trade due to its war mongering, became dependent on itself. American industries prospered, so that by the end of the first world war, America became the creditor nation to these former belligerents.

America Feeds the World: after the World Wars, hunger was rife in Europe and Russia. American farmers sent our surplus to feed the continent’s populations.

Moreover, we began to feed the world. This rabbit would like to think our government is more generous than Mr. McGregregor, who is always chasing us hungry bunnies out of his precious garden, but poverty and hunger lead to unrest among the world’s people, and that destabilizes governments. Stable governments, which don’t oppress their people, are more welcome on the world stage than dictatorships that exist to serve only a small group of privileged individuals.

As the United States and the Soviet Union struggled to reach a balance of power during the Cold War that followed World War II, President Harry S. Truman outlined what became known as the Truman Doctrine in a speech to a joint session of Congress on March 12, 1947. He emphasized the broader consequences of a failure to protect the democracies in Greece and Turkey by saying:

“The United Nations is designed to make possible lasting freedom and independence for all its members. We shall not realize our objectives, however, unless we are willing to help free peoples to maintain their free institutions and their national integrity against aggressive movements that seek to impose upon them totalitarian regimes. This is no more than a frank recognition that totalitarian regimes imposed on free peoples, by direct or indirect aggression, undermine the foundations of international peace and hence the security of the United States.”

Seventy-five years later, some of us rabbits have abandoned our national vision of democratic ideals, and have turned our back on our historic uniqueness among the nations of the world. While we may have aspired to grand ideals, but haven’t yet achieved them, this shouldn’t stop us from helping others continue their own difficult journey toward perfection. Once again, we have a bellicose dictatorship attempting to overthrow the will of Ukraine, a democratic nation, with the potential to continue such destabilizing activities in neighboring countries. What’s worse, Ukrainian agricultural products feed the world’s poorest countries, so without their harvests being replaced by American grain, people might go hungry. Hungry people are at risk for strong men with bad intentions.

Journeys aren’t ever easy. Any rabbit who tells you the road is easy, wide, and well marked on the way to their destination, has never heard the call of God saying, “Go to a land I will show you.” Those who think their path is sure, certain, and easy might want to remember this word from Matthew 7:13—

“Enter through the narrow gate; for the gate is wide and the road is easy that leads to destruction, and there are many who take it.”

This is why we admire heroes, for their journeys aren’t ever easy, but usually require some difficult and demanding task, which transforms them into a new person. They become more than they ever were before. Yet, perhaps, they were always a hero, and they only needed the auspicious moment to bring forth their true character.

I remember the young man I met at a NASCAR event at Texas Motor Speedway. I asked him what he did under the stands while the race was going on.

He shrugged, “I just stand here and make sure nobody takes the other worker’s things.”

“Oh, like you’re the guardian of stuff!”
“I never thought of it like that.”

“Strike a hero pose. I’m going to take your picture .”

Everyone has a hero within, but not everyone has someone who affirms that hero. We all need to discover the hero within us, just as Jesus heard at his own baptism (Luke 3:22)—

“and the Holy Spirit descended upon him in bodily form like a dove. And a voice came from heaven, “You are my Son, the Beloved; with you I am well pleased.”

My dear rabbit mother gifted this to me years ago

We rabbits can’t fail to recognize the heroes who gave us life and brought us into this world. I speak of our mothers, of course. My own dear mother was ready to move mountains and call in every personal favor to come be by my side when I was in an Italian hospital while I was on a summer student art program. My dear daddy had to calm her jets and remind her, “Honey, it’s just a bit of food poisoning. It’s not like major surgery.” Our mothers will do anything to protect their offspring, and that makes them heroes in my eyes. I was released in three days, so it would have been a futile trip for my sweet mother. Make sure you recognize your hero mom on May 8, for without her, you wouldn’t be here.

Speaking of hospitals, May 12th is the birthday of Florence Nightingale, whose service as a volunteer nurse during the 1854 British war against Russia in Crimera. Because of her service, dedication to her call, and the innovations she brought to her vocation, we now celebrate the women and men who follow her in the nursing profession. Back in Victorian times, nursing wasn’t a respectable job, and women of the upper classes were expected to remain at home to care for the family’s affairs. Those who hear God’s call don’t worry about cultural expectations, but follow the solitary path of the heroes who went before them. Remember the nurses of today who’ve had to put themselves into harm’s way to care for people with a disease that now can be prevented from the worst complications and death in most people with immunizations and ordinary remedies like masks, hand washing, and avoiding crowds.

All us rabbits can celebrate Sally Ride Day on May 26, which was the birthday of the first American woman in space. While our national space program seems to have lost its energy and will as we’ve outsourced its efforts to the private sector, we have to ask if giving millionaires the ride of their lifetimes benefits a democratic society more than when we funded the space program by a community of citizens who sent the most highly trained and vetted astronauts into space. But then, I’m only one rabbit and I can remember the thrill, excitement, and joy when I saw our first astronauts exiting from their bobbing capsules. I saw these events on a small screen, black and white television in my school room. Afterwards, all we could talk about in our classrooms was the heroic journey of these brave individuals and the team that helped them circumnavigate our planet at such heights.

Finally, all rabbits of every stripe can celebrate Memorial Day Weekend. For some of us, this holiday has been reduced to a three day picnic at the lake or the racetrack. Others will decorate the graves of fallen soldiers from one of our many wars, participate in a patriotic parade, or watch a plethora of auto racing events around the world. Memorial Day weekend is the busiest weekend in motorsports, with Formula 1 racing in Monoco, NASCAR at Charlotte, the 100th running of the Indianapolis 500, and Lucus Oil Pro Motocross Championship from California. This rabbit will be in heaven. You could spend your tax refund on a new Television, many of which will go on sale over the weekend, or you could open a savings account for emergencies. A wise rabbit always has a little something extra stashed away for lean times. One never knows when Mr. McGregor will lock down his garden, since he doesn’t practice the ethics of Isaiah 58:10—

“if you offer your food to the hungry
and satisfy the needs of the afflicted,
then your light shall rise in the darkness
and your gloom be like the noonday.”

Self Portrait of the Artist as Wonder Woman

My old mother rabbit always reminded me if I was feeling down, all I needed to do was help someone less fortunate than me. It would get me out of my funk by focusing on helping another, as well as reminding me my problems were shared by others. Her message was a key to unlock the hero within me, without which I wouldn’t have done half the good I visited upon this world. My hope for each of you rabbits is to find the hero within you. If you allow God to accomplish deeds of courage through you, whether they be great or small, you’ll be transformed.

Joy, Peace, and May Flowers,

Cornelia

Truman Doctrine | Definition & Facts | Britannica
https://www.britannica.com/event/Cold-War

May 17 Is National Pack Rat Day! Here’s How to Celebrate.
https://ourcommunitynow.com/lifestyle/may-17-is-national-pack-rat-day-heres-how-to-celebrate

The Real Story of How America Became an Economic Superpower – The Atlantic
https://www.theatlantic.com/international/archive/2014/12/the-real-story-of-how-america-became-an-economic-superpower/384034/

Origin Of The Month of May’s Name | Dictionary.com
https://www.dictionary.com/e/may/

Maps of My World

arkansas, art, at risk kids, brain plasticity, Children, cognitive maps, coronavirus, cosmology, Creativity, Faith, Healing, Health, Historic neighborhood, Icons, Imagination, Israel, Painting, pandemic, renewal, Spirituality, Travel, vision

A cognitive map is a representative expression of an individual’s knowledge about the spatial and environmental relations of geographic space. Everyone has a unique relationship to his or her own environment, so each person’s cognitive map is different. I learned this the hard way back before the advent of GPS. Folks would give me directions to their homes in the days when I would make sales calls or later on when I’d make a pastoral visit. It didn’t help that some gave me landmarks like “go past the barn that used to be green,” or “turn left where the old trailer used to be.” I’d clear my throat and reply, “What color is that barn now and what took the place of the old trailer?” Often they couldn’t say, for their internal map was based on old programming and not the latest update. Some people still use their old flip phones, like Mark Harmon on NCIS, but that’s his quirk. They can get around, but it’s hard to get others to come on board with these old ideas.

DeLee: Hot Springs Downtown Historic District

Everyone’s map is different, for sure, but for some of us, the landmarks can change, but our memories aren’t replaced. Some people are like me, who get lost in a tea cup, so I’m unsure of where I am at any given time. This may be why I give some the impression I’m a tad “spacey.” Others can steer a sure and certain course at any time of the day or night to make their way home, like a carrier pigeon with an important message for those who await their arrival. Once I was riding with the men from the West Helena Church to the Methodist Camp for a meeting. I always liked the Methodist Men’s meetings, for they had steaks and other real food, not dainty salads like the women’s groups. Night was coming on and rural roads in the Arkansas Delta look much like one another in the gloom. Our driver could tell I was uncomfortable.

“What’s the matter, preacher?”
“I’ve only been to the camp in the daytime. This doesn’t feel right to me, somehow.”

“You know we all grew up hunting in these woods and rice fields. We know these places like the back of our hands.”
“I know. I also know I always get lost every time I go somewhere by myself.”

“Well, you don’t have to worry about getting lost tonight! We’ll get you there and back.”
“It’s probably better you’re driving, since we don’t want to miss supper.”

They laughed. They all had a much better cognitive map of their home county than I did, since they had spent their whole lives there and I’d only spent three years. Of course I grew up in my home town and even there I still managed to get confused about places, so I’m not sure my living anywhere longer would have filled out my cognitive map with more details.

Characteristics of Cognitive Maps:

Diverse in nature and purpose. Cognitive mapping is used in a broad range of disciplines for a variety of purposes. Cognitive maps are the most general type of mental-model visualization.
No restrictions on structure or form. Cognitive maps don’t have to adhere to a specific format. Thus, they’re often abstract and have no consistent hierarchy. They’re flexible and can accommodate a wide set of concepts or situations that need to be represented.

I usually get lost in a teacup, and my typical travel technique is to drive in the general direction of my goal and then circle it until I have it surrounded. I once drove to Springfield, Missouri to find the hospital there. Once I saw the blue H sign, I took the highway exit, and drove until I began to see a multitude of fast food shops along with drug stores and medical uniform shops. Once I saw physicians’ offices, I knew I was close. Then the height of the hospital building was unmistakable. I knew it would be located in this area, for my cognitive map of every city told me “this is how a hospital district is arranged.”

Google Satellite Map of Springfield, Missouri

I’m not a direct point to point person, a fact which drives most of my friends crazy. They also insist on driving when we go places, so I guess they don’t like my usual scenic route. I’m well aware most people’s minds aren’t like mine, so I design my sermons so they can be understood by the greatest number, most of whom are logical or literal thinkers, who like one point to build upon another. This has always been a growth area for me, much like navigating directly to a destination. Yet I’ve always arrived (to everyone’s amazement) and somehow I’ve also found a sermon that didn’t put everyone to sleep. (Those who stayed out all night at the drag races sometimes gave me a challenge to preach in between their intermittent snores, but I digress.)

Clippy’s Sermon Prep Service never made it past Beta

For instance, when I used to prepare my sermons, I often put notes on a legal pad throughout the week. Other ideas would percolate up to my consciousness and I would jot those down too. I would write some clarifying remarks out to the side and connect them to an idea already on the page. Sometimes I’d draw a circle around an idea, or enclose it in a box to make sure I’d emphasize it. Later in the week I’d number those ideas as to their prominence or order of presentation. This would go on throughout the week as I blindly drew the cognitive map of my sermon for Sunday from the depths of my heart and mind.

I couldn’t bring it in this form for my congregation, however, so I’d have to sit down to make sense of it. In other words, I needed to produce a map or outline of such clarity, a blind person could find their way to the main point of the sermon with ease. Once I got it in this form, it was a strong enough armament to hang a sermon upon. I could elaborate these points with Bible verses and illustrations from life. Then I’d sometimes chop a few limbs off, just to keep from driving in circles, but this is how I mapped out my sermons every week to get people from point A to point B without getting lost along the way. I never learned this direct method to travel in a car, however.

One of the earliest extant maps is the T and O map, first created by Isidore of Seville in 600 AD. It was an early attempt to envision the world on paper. The T in the circle represents the Mediterranean Sea, which partitioned the 3 continents Asia, Africa and Europe.

Most of us are more familiar with maps of city streets, state highways and byways, as well as world maps. If we visit the museums, or do a Google search, we can find interesting antique maps of how our ancestors viewed the world. The British Library has some of the oldest maps in its collection These images are surrounded by water, since people hadn’t sailed across the ocean yet. This world map comes from a beautifully illuminated copy of Beatus of Liébana’s ‘Commentary on the Apocalypse of St John’, a religious text from the 8th century held in high esteem by medieval Christians. This copy was made at the Spanish Monastery of San Domingo de Silos in 1106, a time when the monastery’s scriptorium was producing some of its finest work.

Copy of Beatus of Liébana’s ‘Commentary on the Apocalypse of St John’ (1106)

In this old map, Adam and Eve are shown with the serpent against a dark green background representing the verdant Garden of Eden. It’s a picture of a world centered round the Mediterranean Sea virtually unchanged since the 8th century and reflects an even older world-view inherited from Roman times. Beyond the Red Sea is a hint of an undiscovered fourth continent that some ancient thinkers, such as Pliny, the 1st-century Roman author, had suggested must exist in order to balance the known land masses of Europe, Asia and Africa.

In my mixed media cognitive maps, I’ve kept the primary city streets, but selected only the geographic and architectural details which had meaning for me. I’ve used left over fabrics from the Covid masks I’ve made, old needlepoint seat covers from my parent’s garage, and antique crochet my grandmother made that she never sewed onto a pillowcase. I’ve often said, I’m going to “get around to it” and do something with these souvenirs from my ancestors, but this pandemic might not last that long. Also, I have other more pressing and exciting projects to pursue.

Kathryn Clark: Foreclosure Quilt, Washington DC

The pandemic has tossed my well conceived notions of how I live my life right out the window. Confined to my home, I longed to travel and to wander the city streets as I did in the days before Covid. While I had the grounds of my condominium property to explore, it wasn’t enough. When I began to look at the Google maps of the sites I’d painted before, I noticed I liked the patterns of the satellite views. Sketching out colors and shapes on the images saved from my iPad, I started making some preliminary works. Then I found some old paintings that no longer pleased me and began to rework them with maps of places which have meaning for me.

DeLee: Condominium and Boat Docks at Lake Hamilton

Now we’re a year and a half into the Covid emergency, but for some of us, our cognitive maps haven’t yet changed. Goldman Sacs estimates the United States would save $1 trillion in healthcare costs with a nationwide mask mandate, whereas hospitalizations nationwide cost $24 billion. We could save many lives, especially those of our vulnerable, youngest children. We also will need to vaccinate the whole world, for this plague knows no boundaries. Until all are safe, no one is safe.

I don’t have the type of mind that can conceive of a worldview in which I abdicate my responsibilities toward my neighbor. I’m too steeped in the biblical worldview, in which God calls Cain to account for killing his brother Abel, but Cain answers, “Am I my brother’s keeper?” God’s answer is “Absolutely!” The Hebrew ancestors once trusted in their Temple to protect them, rather than God. When the Babylonians took them into exile, they had to get a new vision, or a new cognitive map, of who they were as God’s people, for they had once tied God to the land of Israel only.

Ezekiel had a vision in which God spoke to him in a desert valley of dried bones:

“Prophesy to these bones, and say to them: O dry bones, hear the word of the LORD. Thus says the Lord GOD to these bones: I will cause breath to enter you, and you shall live. I will lay sinews on you, and will cause flesh to come upon you, and cover you with skin, and put breath in you, and you shall live; and you shall know that I am the LORD.” (37:4-6)

DeLee: Old Fairgrounds, Now a Shopping Center

When our world changes, we either have to live in exile and despair or we can live in the power and presence of God. If we have a hope to return to our ancestral home, in our case, “the precovid era,” we have to survive this uncertain time. When this crisis passes, we’ll discover on our return the Temple needs rebuilding, the infrastructure of the city needs repairs, and the houses need care to become homes again. We’ll need communities to care for one another, especially for the weakest and the least of our brothers and sisters who live on the margins of society. Perhaps we shouldn’t go back to how “things used to be,” but use this crisis as an opportunity to create new visions for new maps, the maps which represent a better world for all humanity.

DeLee: Medieval Icon of Christ Blessing the World

Joy and peace,

Cornelia

The New BauHaus
https://youtu.be/Efz67zwDU6k

The Hidden Costs of Covid Hospitalizations
https://www.forbes.com/sites/leahrosenbaum/2020/10/30/the-hidden-costs-of-coronavirus-hospitalizations/

Steven M. Weisberg, Nora S. Newcombe: Cognitive Maps: Some People Make Them, Some People Struggle, 2018
https://journals.sagepub.com/doi/10.1177/0963721417744521

Rabbit! Rabbit! Welcome to December!

arkansas, art, Children, Christmas, Civil War, coronavirus, Faith, Food, generosity, grief, Hanukkah, holidays, Israel, ministry, poverty, rabbits, righteousness, Travel

December has snuck up on me like a racoon stalking a rabbit. Perhaps I ate too much of the Thanksgiving Feast, or maybe it was the homemade Italian Cheesecake dressed with cranberry sauce and maple pecans that did me in. It thankfully wasn’t the covid, for I had an appropriately socially distanced meal via Zoom, thanks to my niece in New Orleans and her mother in Texarkana. I’ve driven to New Orleans before, and it’s a hard eight hour trip, so I’ve always done it in two legs and made it into an easy jaunt instead. I spent the night in Vicksburg, Mississippi, to see the great Civil War battlefield there, and pay homage to those who fought to preserve the unity of the nation, even if my ancestors fought to keep other human beings enslaved. I also saw some of the grand plantation homes, which were built by slave labor. We don’t think of this history much, and I wasn’t taught it growing up, but it’s time for all of us to acknowledge all the hands who built this nation we call home.

My Decembers as a child growing up in the South were a time of waiting. I couldn’t make the clock hurry up no matter how hard I stared at it. My mother would remind me, “A watched pot never boils.” I’d grind my teeth. Hurry used to be my middle name. Now I seem to putter all day and never worry about it. I may be an aging rabbit, or maybe just a great-grandmother rabbit. Or I may have learned the wisdom of waiting, which is the lesson of the Advent season.

All small children endure the waiting at the end of the year, for the end of the year is full of holidays for many faiths. Today we’re all waiting for more normal times to return, so we can hug one another, kiss each other on the lips, and drink from the same cup without worrying about a dread disease. Waiting was so difficult for me and my brothers, we’d beg and cajole our parents to “Please, pretty please, just let us open one gift before Christmas!” We were the fortunate ones, for when our parents were children in the era of the Great Depression, they knew better than to ask for much. My daddy asked Santa Clause for an orange, boxing gloves, and a book for his older brother. Most of us today think we’d be bad parents if we gave our children only two items, but in the era of covid, when nearly 30 million people are out of work, we might need to readjust our priorities. Keeping a roof over our heads and food on the table could take priority, unless angels bring the gifts instead.

Today, I’m listening to Mannheim Steamroller play Christmas music. Tomorrow is the first day of meteorological winter and the Winter Solstice will be December 21. It’s a quiet time in the condo, for I’m alone with my decaf coffee and the furnace is keeping me cozy. One small joy I always look forward to is the opportunity to use my Christmas themed mugs for a whole month. I’ve put up the ordinary dishware and pulled down my collection of red, green, gold, and white cups. When I was young, I looked forward to the gumdrop tree and the Christmas cookies. Decorating and baking every weekend kept mother busy in the kitchen and me helping or getting my fingers in the icing bowl. I learned to share by helping my mom. I never liked her candied fruitcake recipe, however, or the fruitcake cookies. You can keep that to yourself. I think some traditions may need to die, and fruitcake is one of them, but my tastebuds don’t cater to sugared fruit anymore. Her pecan sandies were to die for, however.

If we approach the coming holiday season with anticipation for the small joys it brings, rather than thinking of the losses we’ve suffered, this December will be better for us by far. By this I mean, the tree isn’t the most important thing, for if it were, we’d worship the tree. We don’t worship the lights shining brightly, but the light which shines in the darkness. The presents aren’t the most important part of Christmas, for we don’t worship the gifts, but the gift from God.

While light has been central to many religions across the centuries, it becomes very important toward the end of the year when the days grow short. The Romans originally celebrated Saturnalia as a harvest festival, but then moved it to the middle of December, and changed its focus to a celebration of light, knowledge, and truth. They would gift dolls and treats of fruit, and light bonfires. It began as a home holiday, but became a public feast holiday in 217 BCE.

Another religious festival is the Jewish festival of Hanukkah, which celebrates the miracle of the oil and its burning for eight days, when only enough for one day was found. Jewish people celebrate their faith by lighting a menorah with nine candles: one is the helper or attendant, and the others represent the days of the ancient miracle of rededication of the Temple after the Maccabean Revolt. Families always place the menorah in a window, so everyone will see it. As a special treat, families eat foods fried in oil, such as potato pancakes and doughnuts.

The tradition is one should spend time in close proximity to the Chanukah lights for, “We must listen carefully to what the candles are saying.” The flickering flames may be telling us the following:

1. Never be afraid to stand up for what’s right. Judah Maccabee and his band faced daunting odds, but that didn’t stop them. With a prayer on their lips and faith in their heart, they entered the battle of their lives—and won. We can do the same.

2. Always increase in matters of goodness and Torah-observance. Sure, a single flame was good enough for yesterday, but today needs to be even better.

3. A little light goes a long way. The Chanukah candles are lit when dusk is falling. Perched in the doorway, they serve as a beacon for the darkening streets. No matter how dark it is outside, a candle of G‑dly goodness can transform the darkness itself into light.

4. Take it to the streets. Chanukah is unique in that its primary mitzvah is observed in public. It’s not enough to be a Jew at heart, or even at home. Chanukah teaches us to shine outwards into our surroundings with the G‑dly glow of mitzvahs.

5. Don’t be ashamed to perform mitzvahs (individual act of human kindness), even if you will feel different. Rather, be like a menorah, proudly proclaiming its radiant uniqueness for all to see.

My daddy died one year and my mother died the next. I didn’t much feel like Christmas in my heart. When the Salvation Army representative came calling to the church office, I really didn’t have the energy to help reorganize another messed up program. Then the words of my mother entered my mind: “If you want to feel better about your situation, you should do something for someone in more need than you are.” I can’t say I grieved any less, but I felt better about that Christmas, for I knew I was called to share my blessings with others. I could talk to all the service clubs in town and get them to ring the bells, including the high school service clubs. We made many people in that community able to pay their utilities and rent in hard times.

December 6 is Saint Nicholas’ feast day, the saint who most people know as Santa Clause. Saint Nicholas was the Bishop of Myra and endured the persecution of Emperor of Diocletian, who put so many priests, bishops, and deacons into prison, there wasn’t room for actual criminals. After his release, Nicholas attended the Council of Nicaea in 325 CE, before his death in 343. His generosity was legend, as was his concern for children, the poor, and anyone in need. Europeans celebrated the saint’s day and reserved the day of Christ’s birth for more sober, religious experiences.

Many people consider Christmas to be quintessential American holiday. When my daughter and I hosted a French exchange student chaperone, she raved about the American Christmas. “The English do the season well, but the Americans are the very best of all. I only wish I could be here in December!”

I laughed. I had too many memories of being up all night assembling Strawberry Shortcake Doll Houses or putting together my daughter’s new bicycle. I’ve always been directionally challenged when it comes to maps, but also when it comes to reading set up plans. I’ve never understood it, since I seem to be able to follow a recipe just fine, but mechanical things are a stumbling block to me. My memories of Christmas are from participation, not from observation.

The first Colonists, who were primarily Puritans and other Protestant reformers, didn’t bring the Nicholas traditions to the New World. As we celebrate the Christmas of today, we have a hard time thinking of the Puritan tradition which ignored Christmas altogether. Back in the 18th and 19^th centuries, once the work was done, people would drink and become rowdy. Drunken mobs would roam the streets and scare the genteel classes afterwards. Even in the mid 19^th century, Christmas was a regular workday. Christmas didn’t become a federal holiday until June 26, 1870, under President Ulysses S. Grant.

After the American Revolution, New Yorkers remembered with pride their colony’s nearly-forgotten Dutch roots. In 1773, New York non-Dutch patriots formed the Sons of St. Nicholas 1, primarily as a non-British symbol to counter the English St. George societies, rather than to honor St. Nicholas. John Pintard, the influential patriot and antiquarian, who founded the New York Historical Society in 1804, was the first to promote St. Nicholas as patron saint of both society and the city.

In January 1809, Washington Irving joined the society and on St. Nicholas Day that same year, he published the satirical fiction, Knickerbocker’s History of New York, with numerous references to a jolly St. Nicholas character. This was not the saintly bishop, but rather an elfin Dutch burgher with a clay pipe. These delightful flights of imagination are the source of the New Amsterdam St. Nicholas legends: the first Dutch emigrant ship had a figurehead of St. Nicholas; St. Nicholas Day was observed in the colony; the first church was dedicated to him; and St. Nicholas comes down chimneys to bring gifts. Irving’s work was regarded as the “first notable work of imagination in the New World.”

Another work of the American imagination is the “Visit from Saint Nicholas,” or “The Night Before Christmas,” a poem which still holds our interest. This poem centers around the family and the safe toys for the good little girls and boys, which Santa and his reindeer will bring to each snug and cozy house. This poem is in the public domain, so it’s available on the internet.

Christmas for many of us in years past has been like the Bunny 500: racing about the countryside as fast as we can to get as many of our to-do lists done. This covid Christmas, we might exchange our tradition of mass consumption for hot chocolate and communication. I’ve always enjoyed reading Dylan Thomas’ A Child’s Christmas in Wales. After two decades of ministry and multiple Christmas Eve candlelight services, I’ve always appreciated the quiet of the parsonage afterwards and the descriptive words rolling off this poet’s tongue. If the poem harkens back to a simpler time, it also reminds us of our lives before we were isolated from one another. As one who rarely saw snow on Christmas, I always enjoyed reading about the snowball fight against Mr. Prothero’s fire, and the Uncles and the Aunts at the meal. After a big day, Thomas said some words to the close and holy darkness and then he slept.

The light will come into the darkness and the darkness won’t overcome it. Two thousand years ago, even the parents of the holy child could find no place to spend the night but in a cave with animals. They had no crib for their child, but placed him instead in the manger. Their families in town didn’t come to visit, but angels announced his birth to shepherds in a field nearby. Strangers brought gifts from far away, but no one from his family was around to celebrate.

Banksy: Manger, Bethlehem’s Walled Off Hotel

Maybe this is Christmas at its best, when we recognize the one who lives on the margin and isn’t included in the center of the social experiences. If your Christmas today isn’t what it’s always been, perhaps the gift of this Christmas present is the one you need.

May you and your bunnies celebrate this season of light and be a light in the darkness for those who think the dawn can’t come soon enough.

Joy and Peace,

Cornelia

Audio Blessings and Latkes Recipe Link

https://www.chabad.org/holidays/chanukah/article_cdo/aid/103874/jewish/Blessings-on-the-Menorah.htm

How the Pandemic is Affecting Supply Chains

https://www.wbur.org/hereandnow/2020/11/24/coronavirus-supply-chains

Dylan Thomas: A Child’s Christmas in Wales

http://gutenberg.net.au/ebooks07/0701261h.html

Charlie Brown Clay Stars

adult learning, arkansas, art, Astrology, CharlieBrown, coronavirus, cosmology, Creativity, Faith, Family, grief, Healing, holidays, Imagination, Israel, Ministry, ministry, nature, pandemic, Spirituality

“Close Encounters of the Third Kind” might best describe my and Gail’s latest adventure at the Oaklawn art class. Pinterest Fail is another synonym for our latest escapade. If my daddy were to describe the result, he’d say, “Close, but no cigar.” That’s a quintessential American expression, which is little used elsewhere in the English-speaking world. The first recorded use of “close, but no cigar” in print was in Sayre and Twist’s publishing of the script of the 1935 film version of Annie Oakley: “Close, Colonel, but no cigar!” I’m very fond of these ancient phrases, which are daily passing from the common parlance, even as new words are invented. These were our first attempts at this craft, so our learning curve resembled the same disastrous, steep ascent of the daily Covid infection chart.

The 1977 movie title “Close Encounters “ was derived from a classification of close encounters with aliens as set forth by the American UFO researcher J. Allen Hynek. Close Encounters of the First Kind refer to the sighting of a UFO. Physical evidence of a UFO are classed as Close Encounters of the Second Kind. Actual contact with an alien is a Close Encounter of the Third Kind. Therefore, our air dried cornstarch, salt, and baking soda clay objects, which should have looked neat, crisp, and clean, instead came out more like visitors from another planet, whose embodied boundaries were disintegrating in an inhospitable atmosphere.

Yes, I blame the recipes, which said “warm water,” rather than naming an actual temperature. Just as science projects and recipes for bread need accurate measurements and temperatures for success, so does cornstarch clay. Gail mentioned her clay began to heat up under her hands as she worked it. Mine never did, but I had to add rock salt to my mix because I ran out of table salt. Don’t do this! The salt crystals won’t melt and I had chunks in my finished pieces. The proportions of the recipe I used are equal amounts of each ingredient, so if you have just a limited amount of one, measure it and give the others to the main bowl in the same amount.

Once the dough looks like mashed potatoes, don’t eat it. Instead, turn it out on parchment or waxed paper and knead it a bit. Then use a rolling pin to get the dough about ¼ inch thick. Use cookie cutters to get your shapes. Put them on a clean, flat surface, such as the back of a sheet pan. Take a plastic straw to put a hole in the upper part of the cutout. This works best if the shape is a touch dry, since the damp dough will close up. The hole is for the string hanger. The rolling pin might need flouring with corn starch if it sticks to the clay.

I also took some leaves and twigs from the bushes on the church property to use as embossing. I put these down on the cutouts, gave them a rolling pin once over or twice, maybe three, and made sure not to over flatten the shape. You could also use a decorative rolling pin as the last roll to make an all over pattern if you like that idea. A patterned doily or a scrap of lace would make a good pattern also.

When class was over, we cleaned our mess up with hot water and paper towels. I let the water run in the sink to make sure any small remains were washed far down the pipes. All the big scraps should be thrown in the trash. When I got home, I wasn’t in the mood to let these air dry for days and days. They already looked like they belonged on Charlie Brown’s Christmas tree, so I put them in the oven at 200F.

Water boils at 212F, so at 200F these shapes would be slowly drying out. I baked them on a cookie sheet for 30 minutes on each side. I did notice a bit of toasting in places, but I planned on painting these, so I don’t think it matters. I did lose the points off a few stars, but in this year of the Pandemic, perhaps some of us may be able to identify with the brokenness and vulnerability of these imperfect objects. We may want everything and everyone to be perfectly normal, but standard operating procedure isn’t on the menu for this year’s Thanksgiving or Christmas. We’re all suffering in one way or another, just like these ornaments.

I didn’t preheat the oven, for the clay objects don’t need to be shocked into a different temperature. We don’t preheat a kiln before we fire clay pottery, but raise the whole to the same temperature at one time. Of course, if you’re making a recipe with flour, yeast, or eggs, and you need your concoction to rise, you do need a preheated oven. Otherwise, just put the food into a cold oven and let your nose tell you when it’s done. Preheating is a waste of energy if you don’t need it for the recipe. These clay pieces will be hot when you remove them from the oven. Let them cool until you can pick them up without dropping them like a hot potato (a metaphor from the 1800’s).

I did take a sharp paring knife to the edges to smooth them out. Yes, I didn’t like the raggedy look. You can’t do this cleanup roughly or with big whacks. This is the fine tuning of your shape. I used to help a porcelain doll maker back in my home town. I would sand the final shape of the doll baby’s faces, hands, and feet for her to paint. She appreciated my work because I would keep the anatomical details correct and give the little faces individual personalities. Portraits in porcelain aren’t that easy, but I wouldn’t rush to finish. If we’re always on to the next task, we might miss the opportunity to meet God in the work we’re doing in the moment.

Right now in this current crisis, most of us are limiting our time out and about. If we go to the grocery store, we find our goods and get out. I do the self check out or scan and go wherever I am so I don’t have to stand in lines. I do miss the interaction and chats I used to have with folks. I decided recently even if I were masked, I would begin to speak to others. So far on each outing, at least one person has shared their feelings of grief or loss, which are a result of this pandemic. Because we are forced to limit our contacts, we’ve also lost our opportunities to share our daily joys and our challenges. If we don’t use our words, we’ll lose them. We need time to share our lives and be a community for one another, since we’re all in this together. These are God moments in which we can be a blessing to others, as well as to receive a blessing from them.

This loss of conversation will be even grimmer if our loved ones pass on during this pandemic, for their memories will cease to be available to the younger generation, and their stories will no longer be shared. As these old ones age, and their frailties become like the imperfect points on my Charlie Brown stars, we realize we won’t have them much longer. Even more so, we’ve come to realize this pandemic spares neither the young nor the full of life, as more and more of our friends are struck by this disease. Any one of us could become a Charlie Brown Christmas star at any moment. I have family members who’ve had it, friends who’ve died from it, and my heart goes out to all who suffer with it, especially those who have lost their incomes because of it.

Those who now deal with the persisting side effects of this disease don’t get near the encouragement or assistance they need in their recovery, since the rest of us are too worn down from self care and from caring for those who’re newly ill. Even the health care workers, first responders, and essential workers who have to keep the rest of us safe, well fed, and secure are struggling under the long term stressors of this pandemic. We have a responsibility to care for them so they can keep going under duress. All these folks need a sign from us that they aren’t forgotten.

Unique stars have always been a herald or sign of unusual events to follow. The gospel of Matthew (2:1-2) records the visit of the magi, astrologers from the east, to King Herod:

In the time of King Herod, after Jesus was born in Bethlehem of Judea, wise men from the East came to Jerusalem, asking, “Where is the child who has been born king of the Jews? For we observed his star at its rising, and have come to pay him homage.”

These foreigners recognized the sea change about to happen in the world, for soon earthly kingdoms would recede in importance, and the powerful would lose their sway. If they could see this sign in the sky, we have to wonder why no one in Israel was considering what the star’s arrival signified. Perhaps the learned priests knew, but didn’t want to tell King Herod the bad news:

Thus says the LORD,
who gives the sun for light by day
and the fixed order of the moon and the stars for light by night,
who stirs up the sea so that its waves roar—
the LORD of hosts is his name:
If this fixed order were ever to cease
from my presence, says the LORD,
then also the offspring of Israel would cease
to be a nation before me forever. (Jeremiah 31:35-36)

Of course, today most of us no longer believe the stars and planets affect our daily lives, nor are we “born under a bad sign,” as the blues players sing. Once we clean up the Thanksgiving meal, many of us will turn our thoughts to the holiday season. I’ll remove the last of the autumnal gourds and bring out a few winter seasonal objects every week until New Year’s. As the seasons change, we note the changes in our world. If the days are growing shorter and darker, we ourselves can still be lights in the world, as Paul wrote to the Philippians (2:14-15):

Do all things without murmuring and arguing, so that you may be blameless and innocent, children of God without blemish in the midst of a crooked. and perverse generation, in which you shine like stars in the world.

Multiple Layers of Gold and Silver Acrylic Paint on the Ornaments

Even if we’re Charlie Brown stars, our lights will be a beacon of hope for all the world to see.

Joy and Peace,
Cornelia

Air Dry Clay Recipe Using More Baking Soda (better recipe)
https://mamapapabubba.com/2016/02/16/homemade-air-dry-modelling-clay-aka-baking-soda-clay/

Reasons to Preheat the Oven
https://www.epicurious.com/expert-advice/do-i-really-need-to-preheat-the-oven-article

Changing Seasons

adult learning, Altars, art, Creativity, Faith, Israel, nature, Painting, pandemic, Prayer, pumpkins, Spirituality, sukkot, vision

When the seasons change, I have days when I drag. My get up and go has done got up and went. Perhaps my increasing age has something to do with this feeling, or the pandemic’s lack of social interaction has dulled my senses. Some days I think I’m moving through molasses, and then the next I wake up on a brighter side of the bed.

Occasionally, I wonder where my mind is. I recently had to get the attendant at the Kroger gas station to help me pump the gas. When I used my loyalty card, the pump didn’t reduce my price. I forgot this pump had a screen prompt, which I’d ignored. Once I was retrained, I got the good discount and filled my car up. I really need to get out more. I’m not driving as much as I once did because of this pandemic. I used to say, “My brain has gone to Pluto,” but now it seems to have gone to the pandemic instead. I could always count on the old grey matter making the circuit back to earth, eve if it took 248 years, but until this Pandemic passes, I may be slightly silly. Some of you will say, “No one can tell the difference,” but I know better.

Enforced Solitude

One of the benefits of this enforced solitude, which we’ve all endured, is we’ve had the opportunity to consider everything tried and true, and decide if we need to keep it or do something different instead. Some of us have redecorated our homes, take up a new hobby or occupation, or even become teachers or caregivers. Many of us cleaned out our closets and clutter because looking at it daily was too much. We’ve done what we had to do. Others of us have held on to the old traditions, as if they were security blankets. We won’t change them until our world feels safe again.

To make progress in art or any creative endeavor, sometimes we have to “burn the security blanket” before we can go forward. This is hard to do, for we get comfortable with whatever small success we first make. Basketball great Kobe Bryant would practice by himself for hours before his teammates showed up and would make four hundred shots every single practice. Notice that’s MAKE, not TAKE. Work ethic is a hallmark of greatness. Kobe was never satisfied with only the good, but sought to be his best.

Building a Community of Encouragement

Yet we are also people who need encouragement, and this means we need community. In community we can build each other up by “catching the good each one does.” We can reward and praise this, even though we usually find ourselves pointing out the spot a person missed, or how they could do it better next time. There’s a difference between criticism and critiquing someone’s work. Criticism usually only has negative statements, but a good critique begins with at least three positive comments before it notes what needs improvement and how to accomplish that task.

Artists and creative persons learn over the years to separate their identities from their work. Who we are as God’s beloved children never changes, no matter how badly our work gets panned. Most of us artists think we’re misunderstood anyway, so we go back to our studios and work some more. Words won’t kill us, and plenty of artists were never commercially successful. Most artists or creative people work at their craft because they have an inner need to express their experiences or ideas about the world in which they live.

Finding Our Own Voice

We work to discover who we are and what our voice would say to the world. In most art classes, the teacher makes a model and the students attempt to copy it as faithfully as possible. This process may use the elements of art, the media of art, and the end product may look like art, but the students are imitating someone else’s creative process. Thinking through the problems of shape, shadow, color, composition, and texture are part of the creative process. I’m very proud of our group, for each person is finding an individual voice. You would be able to identify their work, even if it were unsigned.

Season of Harvest

Hoshana Raba (Heb. הוֹשַׁעְנָא רַבָּא; “the great hoshana”) is a name for the seventh and last day of the Sukkot festival, or the Festival of Booths or Tabernacles. Sukkot has a dual significance: historical and agricultural. The holiday commemorates the forty-year period during which the children of Israel were wandering in the desert, living in temporary shelters. Sukkot is also a harvest festival, and is sometimes referred to as Chag Ha-Asif, the Festival of Ingathering.

In the medieval poem “Om ani homah” attributed to Eleazar Kalir, the Israel nation declares ‘I am a wall’. The poem is recited during Hoshana Raba (Great Supplication) which begins this evening.

The image is from the British Library Manuscripts collection.

Ingathering or Harvest Festivals are part of the seasonal experiences of our lives. Last week I brought a bunch of gourds and pumpkins in for class. I gave each person the opportunity to choose the ones that spoke to them to use for their still life. We had quite the variety of solutions.

Gail’s pumpkins were bold and bright, filling the canvas.

Mike’s were exuberant and about to come alive with energy.

Margaret was new in class, and made a highly textured still life, complete with cast shadows.

Mine were socially distant, a commentary on this pandemic life.

I brought the pumpkins and gourds home to grace my altar. It changes with the seasons, so come advent, it takes a more exuberant and celebratory vibe. For autumn, it’s full of natural bounty. When Nehemiah was celebrating the festival of booths and purifying the temple, this was the prayer of the people:

“O Lord, Lord God, Creator of all things, you are awe-inspiring and strong and just and merciful, you alone are king and are kind, you alone are bountiful, you alone are just and almighty and eternal. You rescue Israel from every evil; you chose the ancestors and consecrated them. Accept this sacrifice on behalf of all your people Israel and preserve your portion and make it holy. Gather together our scattered people, set free those who are slaves among the Gentiles, look on those who are rejected and despised, and let the Gentiles know that you are our God. Punish those who oppress and are insolent with pride. Plant your people in your holy place, as Moses promised.” (2 Maccabees 1:24-29)

All good things come from God, and we owe our lives and our living to the Holy God. Help us to care for the least among us, especially those who hunger and thirst at this time of harvest and during this season of change.

Upcoming events:

Friday classes—through October

October 23—Autumn Wreathes

October 30—Day of the Dead Skull Cookies

November 6—Painting

November 13—No Class

TBA—holiday season and school vacation calendar

Pluto’s Unusual Orbit: https://airandspace.si.edu/exhibitions/exploring-the-planets/online/solar-system/pluto/orbit.cfm

Coronavirus Quilt

Ancestry, art, Children, Christmas, coronavirus, Creativity, Faith, Family, Fear, grief, Healing, Holy Spirit, Imagination, Ministry, purpose, quilting, renewal, Spirituality, vision

My family has a tradition of handcrafts and needle working skills, passed down from generation to generation, as do many Southern families. I admit I didn’t care much for the sitting still part when I was young, but I really liked the bright sequins and beads of the tree skirts we embellished with the symbols of the Twelve Days of Christmas. The first six days were overloaded, while the last few had only a sprinkle of sparkle stitched to the colored felt, but then we were coming in under the wire by Christmas eve and Santa wouldn’t visit our house if we didn’t get into bed as soon as possible. We just barely made it.

Most of our projects didn’t have such a time limit, however. I remember learning to make doll clothes on a toy sewing machine before my mother trusted me on the electric machine. I made tiny tucks across the bodice of these outfits from the scraps of the materials my mother used to make my school clothes. My Nannie had an old foot powered sewing machine on her back porch. It was often hidden under piles of newspapers or canning jars resting on their journey to the garage out back. From her I learned to sew straight seams, unbeknownst to my mom. My small foot wasn’t able to power the treadle of the old machine very fast and I’d been warned within an inch of my life to keep my fingers a good distance from the needle. I was doing this sub rosa, and that added to my excitement, but my mother probably knew. I only thought I was doing something forbidden.

Soon after this, my mother decided I needed to learn to make simple clothes from a pattern. Not that I would do it unsupervised, but she did have a degree in home economics and a lifetime teaching certificate. I made one of those easy patterns with only a front, a back and a neck binding. Of course, I was too young to need to worry about darts yet, so this wasn’t the most difficult project in the sewing room. I did learn how to pin, cut, and sew with the right sides together so the seam would be on the inside.

Later I’d learn to hem my clothes. My mom always thought I sewed backwards. I suppose since she sewed in the opposite direction, I was backwards. I’ll blame this on my being a breech birth, for if I came into the world backwards, I can do things in an opposite manner if I want to. Sometimes it takes a person who sees the world from a different viewpoint than everyone else to help others make sense of the world, especially when the world isn’t in the order we’ve come to expect it to be.

July is the season of the year when active Methodist clergy move to new churches. I’d hear my friends say, “I’m going to hit the ground running and show them I’m ready!”

I’d nod my head, and reply, “I’m going to take my time, get to know folks, find out where they are, and what they need. Then we’ll figure out where we need to go together.” I was past the age of running anywhere, since ministry was my fifth career.

This pandemic has changed many of our rituals and routines. Gone are our potlucks and coffees, our get togethers and small group sessions. We now meet from afar and we’ve learned to like it, or else we live in isolation, and we’ve learned to endure it. I told a friend, “I’m blessed to be single, because if I get on my nerves, I’ve got no one to blame but me! If I get that upset with myself, I go down to the exercise room for a walk.”

As this pandemic has stretched out, I’ve come to realize treating it like a new appointment might be the best practice. Ministry is more of a marathon than a sprint, for we need to keep a steady pace for a long distance, rather than run fast for a short initial spurt. Throwing all our energies at it in the first few months, especially now when everyone is socially distanced, isn’t going to be the most effective use of our potency.

Antique Wedding Ring Quilt
Made by My Grandmother

This is where quilt making comes into play. Quilts can have a structured pattern or they can be various strips of cloth sewn together until they make a square or an entire top. Right now, we’re in crazy quilt land, while we wish we were in structured pattern quilt land. We have to make do with the materials we have at hand and make the most beautiful work with what we have. This is the creative work of the Holy Spirit, which binds the people together, no mater how separated and isolated the community is.

I pulled out some fabric from one of my boxes to make a patchwork pillow. I had no plan, for mostly I was distressed at the brokenness and sickness of our world. I thought if I stitched some strips of fabric together, I would find some order, and perhaps some beauty. Of course, I kept stitching and realized I had more than enough for a pillow, but not enough for another project. I looked at my plain jean jacket and thought it could be improved. I kept stitching, so soon I had enough for the jacket and yet another pillow! This is enough. I’m going to put up my machine and go back to my easel for a while.

I know I miss my friends and family, for they’re like the strips of cloth I’ve sewn together. I try to connect with them by writing my blogs and sharing my spiritual pages, so I can give a voice to the emotions others perhaps are feeling. I write because I’ve never been accused of saying too little, but more often of not knowing when to quit. That’s ok, for someone needs to put into words the feelings this pandemic is putting many of us through.

I hope you’re finding some creative project to do during this pandemic time. I suggest a journal, to write out your memories of your life before this strange time. We don’t know what our future will bring us, and the generations who follow us will wonder what an ordinary life was like back in the day. If we write about the pandemic itself, we may fail to touch the grief of what we’ve lost, and only write about our grievances of today. If we can find an opportunity to note the small blessings of each day, perhaps we can access our memories of our past lives also.

My granddaddy hung his dress jacket in the old wood chifforobe on that back porch where the antique sewing machine resided. The cabinet retained the aroma of his favorite chewing gum, even when he was gone from the house. I can still smell today the juicy fruit chewing gum my granddaddy always carried in his coat pocket.

I hope you’re finding moments of joy and peace amidst this time of pandemic and uncertainty. I’ve attached a poem at the end I think you might enjoy.

Cornelia

Patchwork Jean Jacket with Button and Antique Crochet Embezzlements

Memories are worthy treasures, as this poem reminds us. This is a true story, for the author finished the quilt in 2017. Her husband’s mother had started it and was about a third done with the quilting when she passed away in 1986.

Thirty Years
By Ruth Poteet

My closet’s free of a strange parolee,
coldly imprisoned for thirty long years;
gone with the rest of my walk-in’s debris,
I’d marked it “Goodwill” with cynical cheers.

Rescuing the box, my mind shifted gears.
And ready to face fair verdict instead,
a quilt, yet unquilted, moved me to tears.
At seventy-three I finished this spread.

It took just three weeks, while my fingers bled,
now “thirty years” rests proudly on my bed.

Ruth Poteet: Thirty Years

https://allpoetry.com/poem/12799690-Thirty-Years-by-Reason

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Charlie Brown Clay Stars

Changing Seasons

Coronavirus Quilt

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