Cottage Blessings

Today was a good day

Today was a good day. I slipped downstairs first thing and made two huge pots of chicken soup, enough for dinner tonight and a couple of lunches besides. Marie told me my chicken soup is her favorite food without even a close rival. I baked a loaf of crusty, brown rye bread dusted with caraway seeds. Rye bread is one of those things that makes me feel successful when I make it. If there is one thing I mastered during the past year, it is bread baking. I don’t want to say “the art of bread baking,” because there isn’t much art to it. Just good, wholesome, simple loaves of warm, crusty goodness.

 

Today was a good day. I brought the younger children to a requiem Mass for the three-year anniversary of a girl gone too soon. My younger boy served on the altar, and I prayed for everyone I knew. Honestly, if you are reading this, I may well have been praying for you specifically. Names and faces kept flooding to my mind, and as they did, I would say, “Please dear Lord, help [names], their family and all their troubles.” Everyone has troubles. We must always remember this. Everyone has troubles.

 

Today was a good day. My husband lighted the fire, and we sat by its light, listening to it crackle. We laughed and talked and broke up squabbles. We said all the same old things to the children: “If you two can’t get along, why don’t you stop sitting practically on top of each other?”; “If you were truly hungry, you would eat a banana”; “Why don’t you go play outside before it gets dark?” The same old comfortable things we have been saying for decades and that I no doubt will babble in my sleep as I doze off in the nursing home. 

 

Today was a good day. I kept up my new year’s resolutions: Mass and rosary and novena and a passage from the Bible every day. I am on day nine and praying to succeed again on day ten. I started another resolution: Bring back Cottage Blessings. Today is day one, and I am praying to be back again for day two. Let’s hope the next post after this one isn’t dated 2024. And if it is, ah well.

 

Today was a good day. Whatever else happens, whatever is troubling or worrying or disappointing me, I am truly grateful for all that is good. I am not the woman I was when I started this blog, but I do love that girl so much and hope to find the little well inside of me where bubbles her good cheer.

 

Immaculate Heart of Mary, pray for us!

Sacred Heart of Jesus, have mercy on us!

The flowers that bloom in the spring, tra la . . . .

are not nearly as beautiful as this--five years' worth of clutter accumulated in the basement and now out on the curb:

We discovered mold growing in the basement and needed to have it removed--an expensive proposition! In the process, we were able to part with so many things we had been saving for no reason. When property is water or mold-damaged, saying goodbye is easy. Now I am overjoyed whenever I think about my clean, empty basement.

[By the way, we did not actually part with the pretty wooden kitchen set in the front--fortunately, it was salvageable!]

How do I love thee? Let me count the eggs

Not long ago, my friend Kari wrote to propose an idea so good that it left me almost beside myself with glee:

"Caroline and I would like to come watch the children on Wednesday while you do/go wherever. Will this work for you????"

Why, yes, as a matter of fact, it did work for me! And the note served as yet another reminder of what a blessing it is to have the world's most beautiful and thoughtful friends. While I was using this found quiet time, Caroline and Kari did more than merely watch the children. Caroline arrived with homemade dough, sauce and cheese to make the most delicious pizzas my homemade-dough-deprived darlings had ever eaten. (By a miracle, Marie, who cannot bear even the thought of pizza, loved Caroline's and asked for the recipe!) Kari brought jars of dye, candles, a ream of butcher paper and specialized tools to make Ukrainian Pysanky eggs. As you can see from the photographs below, the children learned a new skill, dying, waxing, and melting for hours.

If you are interested in learning the art of Pysanky, take a look at these step by step instructions or this online tutorial. I can't explain the steps myself, because while all this was going on, I was off writing a last minute addition to the Haystack!

As you can tell from the infrequency of my posting lately, life has been a whirlwind here for quite some time. This too shall pass, but in the meanwhile, we are beyond grateful for loving local friends always offering to help! [I realize that I can't link to most of them!]

Happy Easter tomorrow everyone!

Our Lady of All Patience

This afternoon, the older four girls and I went to First Saturday confession. I entered the confessional to repeat the same sin I confess month after month after month--"Father, I was impatient with the children." My pastor smiled, telling me (yet again) that he hears this from mothers all the time.

Is it any wonder that today, of all days, I came across this--a Hymn to Our Lady of All Patience (what a title!) written by none other than our beloved St. Louis de Montfort? Here it is, an anthem to Our Blessed Mother suitable for mothers everywhere:

Come to my assistance,
O gentle and divine Mary,
Come to my assistance!
I suffer and groan every day.
Be compassionate to my troubles.
Free me from them, I beg you.
Come to my assistance!

Help me,
You are most merciful,
Help me!
Everything is under your rule.
Give me then some help
Or at least, the gift of patience.
Help me!

Please click here for the next five stanzas of St. Louis' hymn. He really seems to have been suffering when he wrote it, but it is a fine testimony to his faith in Our Lady's love and care.

Christmas Eve, a photoessay

These pictures show the joy of Christmas Eve, although they leave out the visit to my mother after evening Mass. This was the first year since we have been married that she did not come to Mass with us, exchanging presents by our tree afterward. In many ways, this Christmas feels surreal and incomplete, yet, even in sorrow, there is great rejoicing--a time to laugh, a time to weep.

Daddy snapped this photo, although it would have been so much nicer if he had been in it. I love the way the little ones are tending to their crying Eileen. As you can see, I remain true to form, looking like a combination of Olive Oyl and Ruth Buzzi:

Usually, our tree is up about a week before Christmas, but this year we were putting ornaments on minutes before leaving for church:

After Mass, it was Marie's turn to put the Baby Jesus in our outdoor nativity:

We did not manage a "path lighted by candles," but our candlelight procession cast a warm glow on the cold winter's night:

The flames needed to be protected from winter wind while we sang carols:

And Marie tripped in the tangles beneath her feet, yet was none the worse for wear:

Warming up indoors, Daddy lit a fire and we exchanged our annual Kris Kringle gifts. Marie, my Kris Kringle this year, presented me with this lovely ornament:

And a picture worth treasuring:

Here is the newest tradition at our house--the Christmas Pyramid--a wonder of engineering given to me this year by Daddy and the children. It runs on the heat of three candles:

If you would like to see our new pyramid in operation, please click here: Christmas 2007. The children, right down to three year old Maureen, do a heartfelt and unrehearsed rendition of Away in a Manger. (They all think it sounds horrible, but I still love it, even with the little ones singing off key!)

Eileen's expression perfectly captures the warmth and joy we wish you this Christmas and always!

Glory to God in the highest!

Do you remember that Easter Pageant soldier?

The one who almost played the Blessed Mother, but fit the soldier costume instead?

Well, here she is again--this time beaming in blue!!!

Happy Fourth Sunday of Advent and Merry Christmas!

Eyes open

The house is not at all neat, so much so I have already announced to the children my resolve not to let the clutter get me cranky. I am going to turn a blind eye to it, remembering that a day will come when we will miss this evidence of fast-paced family life.

The tree is not up, and the large Nativity scene is not alight outside our window. Our Christmas cards are not yet mailed, and an alarming number of my gifts have not been purchased. Maureen and Eileen still need black shoes for Christmas Eve, and I have decided the Christmas village does not need to make an appearance this year.

A couple of days ago, I asked myself why things were so scattered this year. Why is the house so difficult to maintain and all the usual Christmas preparations so far behind? Of course, I realized the answer almost instantly, ashamed to have even asked the question. Needless to say, it is because my mother is not here! How often must she have tidied up without me even noticing--and I thought things were under control because we were all so neat. How many errands did I run leaving her home reading books to the little ones--and I thought things were getting done because I was such a good planner. How many times did she show up with stamps and drop off a bundle of mail for me on her way home--and I thought my cards were out on time because our family had thought ahead!

Now this post may sound like a pre-Christmas downer, but it is not at all meant to be. I make these observations with a grateful heart and unblemished smile, laughing to realize that, grown woman though I may be, I still had a bit of childish obliviousness toward all my mother was doing around here. She would say it was nothing, but the absence of nothing would not be so keenly felt, would it?

So thank you Mom, for four decades of dedication second to none. I hope I can do half as much for my seven children as you've done for me!

Candy Cottage for Our Lady

Last year, we began a new tradition in our home--putting up a gingerbread house on the Feast of Our Lady of Loreto, a date so closely associated with Our Lady's prayerful and holy home.

Hoping to continue the tradition simply and manageably this year, I purchased a Wilton Cottage Cake Pan a few weeks ago. It reminded me of the Holy House of Loreto as depicted on holy cards and in this coat of arms:

[Loreto Coat of Arms courtesy of International Civic Arms.]

We began with plain yellow cake mix, ready-made frosting, pink and purple sugars, gumdrops, gummi bears, mini-marshmallows, and colored wafers:

Once the cake was baked, it was a snap to frost in white. Theresa gave the cake a crumb coat, and Margaret and Marie to applied the candy embellishments. This they managed skillfully [I was making dinner and let them at it on their own] in spite of the help offered by Patrick, Maureen, and Eileen.

Margaret was particularly proud of her own innovation--a chimney made of mini marshmallows:

Here is the work in progress--Marie's snowman stands to the left:

It was my bright idea to put the cake on a pedestal cake pan to keep out of the way during dinner. We left it in the dining room on the piano out of reach of the little ones.

Midway through dinner, disaster struck!

We heard a sickening thud and raced in to find our candy cottage face up on the floor:

Margaret's chimney was no more:

And look at our poor piano! [This photo was taken after we cleaned the keys.]

Disappointed, but undaunted, Margaret set about a reconstruction. The fact that we already had a picture of the cake in its original glory was a comfort to her. We talked about the Holy House in Loreto and how angels carried it from the Holy Land to Italy to prevent its desecration. Our Candy House had moved unexpectedly too! We like to think the angels helped it land face up, even though it fell face forward. : )

Every year, I save particularly beautiful Christmas cards, knowing we may eventually find a good use for them, and this image of the Blessed Mother in red was just the thing for our pretty house. I left a bit of the card edge at the bottom to stick into the icing, creating a vibrant "Loreto" cake topper:

A group of cherubs hold up the base, reminding us of the many holy card images we have seen of Our Lady of Loreto:

At the end of the day, the children gathered round, of all things, the laptop computer. We made the Consecration to Our Lady of Loreto from the wonderful Minnesota Mom. Having just prepared for the Total Consecration on December 8th, this was especially meaningful.

Before bed, I blessed the children with Loreto Oil from the Holy House, sent by my dear friend Anne for my mother. What a blessing it is to have such good and thoughtful friends!

Our Lady of Loreto, pray for us! Bless our homes and our families, and make us more like you!

Noticing the Ideal

I was sitting comfortably with the baby on my lap when Marie came in with an announcement: "Maureen and I are having a puppet show upstairs, and it is about to begin! Come see it, Mom!"

Now, when it comes to our children's shows and skits, there is a tri-fold law that must never be broken:

1. The stage needs to be set in the farthest reaches of the house, usually up or down a flight of stairs;

2. The show must begin precisely when I least feel like walking up or down the flight of stairs; and [this next point is crucial]

3. The proceedings cannot take place without Mommy in attendance, sitting front and center.

I tried buying myself a bit of time, saying "later, honey" and "in a few minutes" and "don't you two need more time to rehearse?" But Marie won me over with persistence, begging, and, as a last resort, that certain pouty look she has managed to retain from babyhood.

Little Eileen was weighing heavily on my hip as I started the slow ascent up the stairs. The effort was already beginning to pay off though--I laughed outright to find the staircase lined with homely signs scrawled in pen: "Puppet Show this way [arrow pointing up]"; "Maureen and Marie's Puppet Show"; "We hope you injoy the show!" Marie had managed to assemble all the children for an audience--even the busy older girls.

The curtain rose to reveal a china doll and stuffed lamb. From behind a chair, Maureen's thin voice rose, "Mary had a little lamb, little lamb, little lamb." It was simple and sweet . . . but extremely beautiful in its ordinary way, particularly because it was taking place in an uncluttered, painted corner of the house. I leaned over and whispered to Theresa, sending her off to retrieve my camera. She returned a moment or so later, and I snapped the photos below.

On occasion, I have heard it said that blogs do not present a complete picture of the homes they represent. We see all beauty and perfection, without the blemishes. Some would even say that these worlds of domestic tranquility are created for the camera and do not truly exist apart from the blogs. Still, I believe that this beauty does exist, and it may be found in every home.

This side of Heaven, there is no perfection, and all families are, in different ways, "mourning and weeping in this valley of tears." Yet, even in the dark valley, we are called to "wait in joyful hope." God trains His sunshine upon us, showing forth His goodness always. Just as in every home there are sorrows, there is also an Ideal waiting to be noticed.

The Ideal presents itself in any number of ways throughout each day and need not be created or staged. We find it jumping for joy as Daddy drags the Christmas lights up from the basement; we see it waiting for us with a picture book and hopeful expression; we hear its muffled shouts of fun through the glass of our back windows; and we feel its limp, dozing warmth by the armload on our laps.

When I am on vacation and see a worthwhile sight, I reach for my camera. So it is at home (the most worthwhile place of all). Marie and Maureen's performance is now in my heart's history book, and I will look at it when I am gray(er) and smile again. Indeed, it was not the only thing that happened that day--I'm sure I scaled a mountain of dishes and probably fretted over clothes and toys on the floor. That is all right and well worth it. The returning miner exclaims and rejoices over the diamonds, leaving the crags and rocks behind.

Any home where breathes a child contains more joy, contentment and beauty than the most well-crafted picture book or extensive magazine spread. And even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these.

*******

Scenes from a puppet show, performed with neither stage nor puppet

The curtain is down:

Baby Eileen makes her way backstage:

And is promptly kicked out:

Cheerful programs:

Brother Patrick, program in hand, waits for the show to begin:

Maureen narrates:

"There once was a little sister. They loved her very much . . . . ":

Marie feeds Maureen her lines:

The cast assembles for a curtain call:

Related Cottage Blessings post from last year

Jesse Tree in Miniature, Jesse Tree Full-Size

Last week I mentioned we would be hunting for our Advent Cubes from last year. What I had forgotten was that, during the summer, while we were away in San Francisco, a leak in the basement had done some damage in the boiler room. Unfortunately, the advent materials (among other things) were damp and useless when I uncovered them, leaving us to begin at square one with almost everything.

Fortunately, stuffed in the closet we had an 8 inch bare tree, meant as an accessory for the Christmas village I never get around to setting up year after year:

A while back a friend of mine had brought a box of Ferrero Rocher chocolates to our Mother's Tea and Rosary. It was beautiful and beveled, with exactly twenty-five small compartments, so I saved it hoping to create and Advent calendar of some sort:

One holy card was enough to transform the box into something perfect for Advent and Christmas:

Using the pictures of last year's Advent cubes, the four older girls and I spent Saturday afternoon making tiny ornaments out of Sculpey. With five pairs of hands, this did not take long:

Here they are before baking and painting:

They fit well in the candy box, ready to be taken out each day:

At eight inches high, the Jesse tree looks as if it sprang up right outside the Mission in Miniature. The Guadalupe holy card in the background will help show the small scale of the tree:

And here is something far more wonderful, a complete set of Jesse tree ornaments created for us by the mothers from my local homeschooling group--the brainchild of my generous and thoughtful friend Leticia! They knew things would be chaotic for us this year with my mother in the hospital and made me a complete set! We are so blessed to have these friends!

And, as if that is not enough, look at the perfect Jesse tree my friend Heather gave me for my birthday--she said the bird at the top reminded her of me! Thank you, Heather!