from the backyard

Play ball!

favorite faces

Five years ago, I was in a Bible study with these gals from Mosaic; in the picture above I was pregnant with Josephine.  It seems like ages ago!  I don't know where the girl on the right ended up, but those other three are my absolute treasures.  Mychel (far left) came in from California last week, and we restaged the photo after dinner at Beth and Justin's house:  

sadly, there were no little pink chicks for me to hold

I know what you're thinking... "y'all haven't aged a minute!"  yes, I know, I know, thank you.  We've never been known to bemoan grey hairs or anything like that.  Nor do we sit around unpacking life's hardships, because in 5 years each of us has only experienced utter bliss and harmony and loveliness, so that is all we've ever needed to discuss.   :)  Really, thank God for friends who can handle those sorts of lightweight conversations.

the three lovelies (Beth, Mychel, Stacey) accompanied by Julien, Clement, Josephine

Looking forward to another five years of no grey hair or worry lines, ladies!  

recent zoo trip

We had the train to ourselves this time, so Josephine chose to ride on her own bench behind Clement and me.

Despite looking concerned for the entire train ride, Clement also expressed independence by repeatedly pushing my hand off of him.  

What kids don't understand is that parents keeping a grip on them, whether on a neighborhood walk or on a zoo train, has less to do with their safety and more to do with convenience.  For as long as I have them in my hand, I can actually look around and enjoy the walk or train ride, too.  Once out of my hand, if there is any potential for danger, I have to just watch, perpetually focused on the kids, ready to catch/grab at any second should I be needed.  

In other words, my little independents enjoyed the train ride... I did not.  I want my $2.50 back.  (It's coming out of Clement's college fund.)

We bought a bag of food for the first time so Josephine could feed the goats, sheep, llama, and deer.  I helped Clement feed a deer, too, but he was rather displeased with the entire process.  (understatement.)

Josephine, on the other hand, LOVED dispensing the kernels of animal food.  She quickly understood the power in her possession and flitted about like a fairy godmother bestowing great treasures on the animals.  Though partial to the deer, when she fed the other animals she was very focused on being fair and equal.  The animals, however, had a clear hierarchy amongst themselves, so getting kernels to the underdogs was no easy task.  

Even then, the fairy godmother did not break character; her efforts to chide, redirect and bypass alphas were all performed with the most pleasant and patient tone you can imagine.

I feel pretty confident suggesting these animals have never met (nor will they ever meet) a more magnanimous 4.5 year old benefactor.  Josephine was in her element-- she would coo and woo (or sort of glowingly chase) until each kernel reached its intended recipient, even the lowly and repeatedly head-butted ones.  It really was pretty heartwarming to watch, and as long as no one was making him participate, Clement got to where he enjoyed being right up near the process, too.

(This is one of the zoo's strollers, by the way.  They have a whole army of secondhand strollers under a covered patio so you don't have to bring your own.  How awesome is that?) 

Lunch time:

More animals:

I am Tortoise, hear me stare!

I am Tiger, hear me... stare, too.

I am Goat, hear me bleat demandingly until you wished all I did was stare.

the vicarious feeding

On whole, a good, quiet day at the zoo.  

The only upset was when the fairy godmother realized that the wicked witch had been quietly dispensing handfuls of food to any arbitrary goat behind her back because a certain little leprechaun needed to be home for an afternoon nap and I didn't wish to be standing outside a petting coral until I turned 50, which was seeming increasingly likely.  (Fairy flitting takes a LONG time.)  This resulted in a brief moment of "I am Josephine hear me stare demeaningly AND roar a little bit" but she pulled it together and bequeathed her devoted subjects with gracious farewells and promises of quick return.
They bleated their adoration and appreciation, Josephine glowed, all was well.

So, until next time...

retreating: day four (final)

Before I departed on Sunday to drive up to San Jose and catch my flight, I went to mass, cleaned the hermitage as requested, and took some final snapshots.  

I appreciate a place that asks you to take out your own garbage.  I think the fact that you are not waited on, served or coddled at the monastery is a positive thing, in two ways:  

1) the monks, while extending hospitality, are not at the monastery to run a hotel.  I would rather them focus on what they are meant to do, which in turn means places like this exist for people like me.  If I wanted a hotel, I could go to a hotel.  But if I want a monastery I need a place where there are monks and that means it won't be a hotel because that's not their calling.  I think what I'm trying to say is I appreciate that the monastery is a monastery.  (Profound, I know.)

2) Everyone knows that resorts and hotels are not real life.  Neither perhaps is a silent retreat at a monastery.  But the less this favored a resort, the more it mentally got categorized as "real life".  I take out garbage at home, I take out garbage at a monastery.  See, not that different.  One might be a little more secluded and beautiful and conducive to peaceful rest with God, but both are places where I have to do the dishes and clean the shower, and this implies that these tasks are not at odds with finding peaceful rest with God.  Nor should they be.  But sometimes I think I'm inclined to compartmentalize God and faith from real life... not so badly as to say they are only at church on Sunday mornings... but still, I should be aware of any extent to which I keep God in the gaps and not integrated fully into every day life.

the bookstore, office, and chapel behind it

space in front of the chapel entrance.  through the opening is a view out over the ocean

As you enter the chapel, you pick up the book that corresponds to the service you are attending.  The monks sit in the innermost rows of chairs, facing each other.  Other folks fill in the pews behind them.  Everyone moves into the rotunda, lining the walls, for communion.

The chapel was open 24/7-- and like everything there, so peaceful and quiet.  I was glad to have a few minutes before I drove out where I could take some pictures without bothering anyone.

See?  Just like home!  :)  
Why can't I capture this tranquility while taking out the garbage at home??