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??

retreating: day three

Didn't take as many photos on Saturday... just a few from my evening walk:

me!  (old-school "selfie")

retreating: day two

When I woke up on Friday morning and opened my blinds, this was the view that greeted me!  Not bad!

morning view from my desk

one of the cards Josephine made me

I had perfect weather during my stay; the days were comfortable in jeans and short sleeves.  These pictures are from a walk I took along the winding road that goes down the mountain:

one snapshot from chapel where I joined the monks for lauds, eucharist, and vespers each day.

my private hermitage, Kairos.  up the hill behind it is the chapel.

The bush in the foreground of this picture had some purple blossoms on it that swarms of bees and other flying bugs seemed to love.  They weren't a nuisance at all, except for the fact that I got SO GREEDY with the silence at the monastery, that I could not sit on my porch for long before the buzzing got under my skin!!

evening view from my desk

Also, it turned out that the view of the stars out there was spectacular!  I wish there'd been a good way to capture that.  It had been a long time since I'd seen THAT many.   Nights were pretty brisk and chilly, so I didn't get to spend a ton of time soaking up that view.  All the more reason to go back next month perhaps? 

shhhh... don't disturb them!

Clement going, "cheeeeese!"  (I didn't even know he knew that word)

When Clement loads the car:  dinosaur in the back, baby boy (on his head), dog in the front seat.  Couldn't talk him into any other combination of passengers.  Asked him who would drive the car, and he reached in and started turning the steering wheel himself.   He was far more concerned with the dog staying upright as he pushed the van than he was about the baby, who at one point was hanging halfway out the door while Clement adjusted the dog for the umpteenth time.

In addition to the "cheese" he gave me earlier, I was also surprised to learn that he can execute quite a fierce dinosaur roar.  His dog bark is excellent-- he says "woof woof" with gusto only matched by the canines themselves.  I have even witnessed barking exchanges wherein he seemed to establish himself as the alpha, sending the other little dog scampering behind its owner.

I always wonder whether animal sounds count as "words" when I make notes about his vocabulary.
For the blogging record, (and because I'm sure I'm going to misplace the list I wrote out), here are some words he can say as of 19 months...

Hi

bye

Mama, Mommy, "AMMMEEEE" is the distressed version (I like to pretend he speaks French, and is calling me "loved" [aimé].  Personally, I think being delusional helps quite a bit with parenting.)

Da

Jos (for Josephine)

BEEEE!!!  (for Begonia.  He also had a "Nonia" for a little while, but that phased out.)

brush  (this was one of his first, because I'd hand it to him on the changing table to keep him occupied)

wall   (another ridiculous first, because there is a wall next to the changing table, which he would point to and ask about, and then proceed to point to other walls around the house and say "wall!")

door  (same word also used for drawer.)

doorbell

fan  (Noticing a theme?  Let's just say he's mechanically minded.)

NANA!  (banana.  there is only one way to discuss bananas and that is with great excitement.)

something that sounds like apple

this  (as happened with Josephine, upon acquiring this pronoun there has been very little motivation to learn the nouns themselves)

wash  (accompanied always by these little squeezing hand motions as though he already had all the foamy soap to squish)

boo!  (when he is playing peek-a-boo or hide and seek)

eyes  (he knows where his body parts are fairly well, but eye is the only one he says)

quack quack

moooo (sometimes cows say boooo around here though)

knock-knock

geez...  (seriously.  When he's disgusted or finally gets situated after some hassle, he very adeptly breathes out a "geez!"  I never get disgusted or feel hassled so I have no idea where he might have picked this up.)

book

ball!

bok (block)

buzzz (buttons)

no  (he's a big head shaker.  sometimes he does actually say the word though.)

Yes and uh-huh  (usually said with great drama.  When you ask him "Do you want X?  Can I help you get Y?  What is it?  Z?"  He says YES, underwritten with a tone that says "Thank you for fiiiiinally understanding my needs."  It can be pretty pitiful and sad, or pretty keyed up and high pitched, but always there is GREAT meaning behind this word.)

mine!  (usually followed by AAAMMMMEEEE!!)

off

on  (really this is more of an "uh" and a point to a fan when it is off.  the mechanically minded can be a bit particular about the functioning of items.  fans should be on.  doors should be shut or knock-knocked upon and then opened and then shut again.)

hat

bay (that's some kind of cross between baby and boy-- it's what he calls his little stuffed boy doll or the lego boy or any sort of small boy figure)

When he's feeling chatty, he mimics words well.  But he's not really the chatty type, nor is he much on performing, so saying "Tell dad what the dinosaur says!!!" gets you looks like, "Uh, or not."

However doing things like building a fire in the fireplace, which elicits tremendous glee, is a certain way to find out if he knows a word.  And yes, "fire" is a word he was delighted to say.

Clement cares a lot about getting dressed, does say some sort of word for "shirt" and is very enthusiastic about selecting his clothes.  He's extremely obsessed with socks; he chews on them and talks about them and you can tell he takes them very seriously (you have NOT finished dressing him in the morning until he has at least one pair of socks on his feet), but I'm not sure he has a word for them.

Another fascination of his which I am surprised he doesn't have a name for yet is music.  He does have some elaborate dance moves, so perhaps he is like the ballet dancer who, when asked how they felt about the music, replied, "If I could discuss it I wouldn't have had to dance it."
(I'm serious about delusional parenting being the way to go.  In case I haven't made it clear, this child is a polylingual prodigy destined for the papacy.)