Eleanor

Mimi and Tim told us all they would call her 'Ellie' but no one does.

She is "Eleanor" pure and simple.

And she is wondrous.

Only one day last week was she anything but engaging, happy and humorous. And that day the cold she had all week was really bad. She didn't cry much, even then. She just couldn't consecrate and 'be present'. Nothing much satisfied her.

All the other days she was the baby from Mars, or somewhere other than here, where babies are wondrous, happy, engaging and humorous.

Two things she like best: 'marching' and 'open/close'.

Marching she did mostly with Bern. The house we were in ("Spoiled Rotten" was it's name!) was great. You could go from the dining room to the living room to the fifth bedroom (which became a nap room and play room since no one slept there) to the kitchen and back to the dining room. Bern would hold Eleanor's hand and they'd march, Bern singing, Eleanor waving 'hi' to each person they passed on their circuit, over and over, round and round, time after time.

Also, I played 'open/close' with the door of the nap/play room. Eleanor would shut the door, I'd knock and open it, she'd wave and close it. Over and over, time after time.

A variation was a drawer or a door on a bedside stand that she would open, put one thing in, then close and then open and put another thing in, then close, then open and put one thing in....you get the picture. One drawer was in a lamp table besides the stairs to the second floor. The house had a gate to keep babies from going up the stairs and lots of those foam covers for beer cans. I had about a dozen of the cozies for beer and I'd fold them up and put them in the strings of the gate and Eleanor would take them, one at a time, open the drawer and drop it in, close the drawer and get another, open the drawer and drop it in, close the drawer...on and on, over and over.

When she had 10 of them in the drawer I'd snatch them out and refold them and put them in the gate while she took the last two, opened the drawer, dropped them in, closed the drawer.

We did six rounds once--our record. She has amazing concentration and a stunning attention span. I got tired of the game long before she did.

And she laughed and kissed her mom and dad and herself in the mirror in the nap/play room.

She is such a joy. Such a gift. Such a wonder.

And she is 'Eleanor', not 'Ellie'....

How the trip began....

Anyone more superstitious than me might begin to think the annual September journey to Oak Island has a Joe Btfsplk cloud over it. (Anyone besides me remember Joe Btfsplk??)

The last time we drove there John's Range Rover broke down on the Jersey Turnpike. I road to New Haven with the toe truck and Andrew drove down to get John, Bern and Sherry.

Then last year Mimi and Tim didn't come because Eleanor was a new born and Bern and I didn't go because I ruptured my quad muscle and had surgery. So John and Sherry were alone in a four bedroom house for a week!

This year our 11 a.m. flight from Hartford to Myrtle Beach got canceled at 7 a.m. because South Carolina was in one of the paths of Irma and since flights out of most of the southern states were shut down they couldn't get enough flight crews to Myrtle Beach.

I was on my way to the Kennel with Bela when Bern called and said 'speed back, we have to go to New Haven'.

Somehow John or Sherry had gotten us 5 seats on a Delta flight to Raleigh at 11:30 and we broke land speed records getting to LaGuardia. Raleigh is 3 hours from Oak Island while Myrtle Beach is 40 minutes. So we got to the island later than we'd hoped.

But after getting into the house and finding it wondrous and having a fish dinner at Jones' Seafood, Mimi, Tim and Eleanor arrived--also from Raleigh--and all was right with the world....

ok, I didn't figure it out....

Thought I knew how to blog from someone's computer.

I was wrong.

Didn't get to blog from Oak Island. I have lots of material from the whole thing though, for next week.

Not today. We flew out of Raleigh to NYC at 7 a.m., so I've been up a bit....

'Out of Raleigh" because South Carolina shut down their airports last Saturday because of Irma--mostly because no flights were coming north and they couldn't get crews for the planes.

We somehow scrabbled around and got a flight to and from Raleigh. Three hour drive to Oak Island compared to 45 minutes from Myrtle Beach.

Much to share but must wait until I sleep one more time....

Early leaving

I'm leaving early enough to get to Holiday Pet Lodge when it opens at 8. Then I'm going on to Bradley airport in Hartford. Once when my father moved to CT, one of the stewardess' said to him, "Here's YOUR airport, Mr. Bradley." He loved that.

John, Jack, Sherry and Bern are leaving out house at 8 to go to Bradley. I'm taking my car so I can pick up Bela next Saturday when we get back.

We'll fly to Myrtle Beach and then drive 45 minutes or so to Oak Island. The Realty company sent an email to day to say they don't expect much more than a little rain from Irma.

Tim and Mimi and Eleanor fly to Raleigh tomorrow and then drive an hour and a half to the island.

Tim's parents are in Tampa, so, think of them. They're probably going to a shelter on Saturday. Tim is, I'm sure, a wreck.


Also, Irma practically destroyed Barbuda. St. John's in Waterbury, where I served for 21 years, has a huge number--60 or 70 members from Barbuda. I talked to one of them yesterday. Their ancestral home is gone. Think of them as well.

(Notice I say 'think' instead of 'pray'. 'Praying' it seems to me, is mostly non-verbal except in a community setting--so 'thinking of' folks is how I pray for them. Just a bit of theology for you.)

I think I know how to access the blog from someone's lap top so I hope to report in on the week.

If not, talk at you in a week or so.

DACA

Bern's father was brought to the US by his father from Italy when he was young. Then his mother and brother came and Bern's brother, sister and she were born here. Her mother having come to America as a fetus from Hungary.

Don't tell me about the President who will not be named's right to suspend and end DACA.

We all--unless you're 100% Native American--came from somewhere else and even they came, before the US was a country, from somewhere else.

The President's family came mostly from Germany. His current wife was an immigrant.

We have to find a path to citizenship for all the DACA folks and for everyone here illegally.

It's the "American thing to do".

My maternal great grandfather came from Ireland. The Bradley side of me came from Great Britain about five generations ago.

This DACA nonsense is solely because most of them are brown, not white.

Give me a break or take down the Statue of Liberty

Give me your tired, your poor,
Your huddled masses, yearning to breathe free,
The wretched refuse of your teeming shore,
Send these, the homeless, tempest tost to me,
I lift my lamp beside the golden door. 

Don't, for God's sake and all that is holy close that 'Golden Door'!!!

Leaving Saturday

We're leaving Saturday for our--what would it be--maybe 25th visit to Oak Island, North Carolina.

We're going with Tim, Mimi, Eleanor and our friends from New Haven, John, Jack and Sherry.

Bern's watching the weather channel most of the day to see if Irma or Inez, which ever it is, is going to keep going vaguely west or turn up and go north east toward North Carolina.

In all our years of going we had to leave one day early once because of a Hurricane. I'd tell you what year and the name of the storm except I of course don't remember. Lost in linear time am I and names are hard to hang onto.

I only have a desk top so I was thinking I couldn't write on Under the Castor Oil Tree for a week. But then, looking up at the top of the page here, I see the code to log on from somewhere else and there will be lots of laptops at the beach.

Also, on Friday, I'm teaching the first session of a course at UConn in Waterbury for the Osher Lifelong Learning Institute (we call it 'OLLI') on a subject I've taught before. I changed the name this time though from "Reading the Gospels side-by-side" to "Walking with Four Jesus'".

It fascinates me how remarkably different the Jesus of each gospel is from the other three--but the way the church teaches Christianity you'd never figure that out. I found a post from over 5 years ago where I published the ending of the course.

Thought I'd share it here again.

Friday, May 11, 2012

Knowing four Jesus'

OK, I just completed a class at UConn called "Reading the Gospels side-by-side" and wrote something to read at the end of the last session. Someone suggested I publish it on my blog.

So here it is.

LOOKING FOR JESUS

Most of us are looking for Jesus.

One place we could expect to find Jesus is in the Four Gospels. So we turn to them. If we read them critically and carefully, what we discover is not Jesus but Four distinct Jesus'.

When confronted with that reality, there are two obvious reactions. Either I (I'll speak only for myself here and invite you to ponder your reaction)...either I despair and give up my search OR I walk the road with each of the Gospel writer's Jesus' and glean what I can from the four of them.

When I am doubtful, it is Mark's Jesus I want to walk beside because he too struggled with doubt. He spends time with the wild beasts. He can't seem to understand what is being asked of him by God. He agonizes in the Garden. He feels abandoned on the cross. Mark's Jesus is a good companion in times of doubt.

When I am confused, it is Matthew's Jesus I turn to. Matthew's Jesus is jerked away from his home to a foreign land. His earthly father relies on dreams and visions of angels in his confusion. The Magi visit him and give him great gifts. Matthew's Jesus knows that traditions and boundaries and scripture can help in times of confusion. Matthew's Jesus knows right from wrong, truth from Falsehood, the sheep from the goats. Matthew's Jesus stands on the mountain top and speaks wisdom to those who are in darkness and confusion. The Jesus of Matthew has correctives to my confusion.

John's Jesus is my traveling companion when things are going well and I am feeling confident. John's Jesus is certain and resolute and convinced of his purpose and his way. John's Jesus has an ego to match my own. Nothing much bothers him. His eyes are on the prize. His feet are firmly on the ground even as his soul soars to heavenly places. In 'good times' John's Jesus is the ideal companion. He can validate my confidence, inspire me to even greater things, teach me that I am loved and meant to love others. He breathes on me and wishes me “Shalom”, which means fullness and health and hopefulness. There is nothing like the Jesus of John when God's in his heaven and all is right with the world. Walking the road with him just reaffirms my optimism and hopefulness and sense of well-being.

But when I suffer, when I am in pain, only Luke's Jesus will do. He will walk with me to Emmaus and calm my fears and set my heart of fire. The breathless, timeless songs and poetry of Luke soothe me, heal me. Luke's Jesus is the healer, the non-anxious presence, the font of all Compassion. Luke's Jesus walks with those in distress, in pain, in need. Luke's Jesus is constantly standing with the marginalized and outcasts. Luke's Jesus teaches us on the same level where we stand. He is always on my level, near me, suffering with me, forgiving me, holding me near. Luke's Jesus walks the road of our world's suffering. He knows me through and through. He bears my burden. He lightens my load. He touches me and makes me whole.

Seeking Jesus and finding four is 'good news'. Four companions on the Way to the Lover of souls, four brothers with various gifts for various needs, four faces of God, four revelations of the Almighty.

A hymn from my childhood says, “What a friend we have in Jesus....” It is wondrous and precious to have a friend. But to have four, all of whom love me and care for me and walk my road with me. What could be better than that???

Whatever happened to "Labor Day"?

I was in a package store today and noticed they would be open 9 a.m. until 9 p.m. on Labor Day.

I called back to the clerk, "you're open on Labor Day!!!"

Sadly she shook her head, "every day except Thanksgiving, Easter, Christmas and New Year's Day."

I knew the grocery stores and most all stores would be open, but wine/beer/liquor stores as well....

Whatever happened to 'LABOR Day'?

Labor Day is the national holiday for those who 'labor'. But they'll all be working. It's such nonsense to even have a day for them if they'll all be working!

I'd like to go back to 'Blue Laws', myself. Absolutely everything closed on Sunday...and Labor Day as well.

Buy enough wine for Labor Day on Saturday. Let the shops be closed Sunday and Monday. And get your groceries on Saturday too. Let the workers 'rest' on Sunday.

"A day of rest" should apply to everyone. And Labor Day, for God's sake, should be a day when there is no 'labor'.

The world is too much with us, as the poet knew. I long for 'the OLD DAYS' when no one worked on Sunday except police and emergency workers. And I long for slower times, more laid back times, times of rest, which seem to me to be gone now and forever.

And we are, I believe diminished by that. Greatly....