Thank You, Dorothy, and Godspeed

The keeper's friend Dorothy died several days ago. She had the best garden, and loved working in hers. She and Eloy were great pals and she always said they understood each other's need to plant beauty. She was smart and was an early leader as an accountant who was a woman. She felt very strongly about the role of women in the church and was very supportive of the keeper's role. She helped us to get ready to move to this house ten years ago. The keeper will be part of her funeral this coming week. We are all grateful for Dorothy's presence in our lives.

On other notes, we have been mostly indoors. The weather has been wet and windy. I ran out a few times, but didn't want to stay out. Alice and I slept a lot. The keeper has been gone a lot. She had a talk to give and lots and lots of meetings. She said the talk went well--on liturgical ministry and discipleship. She says she is staying home tomorrow just to write. This means we will be on our own again. We can't wait for spring.

All the Leaves are Down

The leaves are all on the ground now, save a few hanging on for dear life. The rain stopped so the keeper let us go out and so we sat on the hot tub defying winter to come. It probably will, and we would like some more snow, although the keeper thinks that is a disgusting idea. She harvested the little eggplant today. She had brought it inside to see if it would keep growing, but we think it had enough chance to get bigger. The plant keeps growing, so it will spend the winter inside with us. Perhaps there will be Baba Gonoush soon?

The keeper pretty much ignored us all day. She sat at the computer most of the day putting a talk and some prayer services together. So we were free to do what we wanted. Except there wasn't much to do except sleep and rage at the coming of the cold. She gave us some of her basil pesto and pine nut encrusted salmon, though. We are content. Sigh.

Jerusalem, Jerusalem

A year ago the keeper had just returned from Jerusalem. She says she feels some deep attraction to that spot of so much intensity, tension. She says stones speak there. She couldn't go back this year because she was angry about how the Palestinians are being treated. Now she tells us that she wants to go back and visit with the Palestinians. We think it is good she travels, but we don't like the disruption in our routine. We suppose that is selfish. Anyway, the reason we are telling you all this is because she came home from the Cathedral tonight singing "Jerusalem, My Happy Home, God grant that I may see Your endless joy, and of the same, Partaker ever be." She told us that one day there would be endless joy there, but in the meantime it is something to long for.

On another note, the bishops are meeting at Notre Dame, and new appointments are being made, and perhaps we may hear something for better or worse about liturgical changes and new bishops. Meanwhile, she says, the people of God gather and try to form community, pray, try to live justly, and make moral sense out of their lives, all the while not knowing or worrying that bishops meet. She was telling us about a young adult group she is working with that within a month has grown from 4 to 25, and they are outgrowing the hotly contested meeting space. She also said that never once did the bishops' meeting come up in conversation, but what did was how the group could begin reaching out to the day laborers this winter who wait in the cold at Home Depot. They are wise, these young people, focused on the Gospel.

She also told us that the hills on the Eastside are still very colorful--oranges and golds and crimson flaming out against the gray sky.

Thanks for asking about us. Our day was boring. She was gone. We were in. It was dark and gray. She did take care of our litter box tonight, though. We are grateful for our happy home. Not exactly Jersusalem, but home.

Got Time?

It is cold out. We got to go out for a bit today when the keeper got back from Kay's funeral. She said she needed to work in the yard in order to think. We hoped she would think for a long time. She did until she got too cold. But we watched her seal off the faucets and move in the hoses and the potting bench and the watering cans and the buckets and other paraphernalia into the storage shed. It's full now. We also brought the garden angel into the garage to keep him warm. We think he needs a little snow suit or something. She said she needed to think about Kay and what a heroic person she was. Such courage as a mother and a woman in the church. The funeral was subdued. Kay was a self-described private person, but the variety of the assembly was a testimony to her life.

For us, life seems pretty short, and as cats we don't like to miss too much. But humans sometimes think they will go on forever, and they avoid death. The keeper was thinking about how some Native tribes teach their young a death song so that they can learn it and befriend it and not be surprised when they hear it singing their names. She was remarking on all the junk we have in our home, all the books and art, and photos and stuff. Someday, she won't need it, and it will be just piles of things which were meaningful to her but to no one else. She suggested that perhaps we ( no, she) should start stripping it all away now, but she doesn't want to live like a monk. We don't like that idea either. But, truly, no one would want all of this. And certainly no one would want to clean it out. Maybe in the new year we should start giving a little away, out of kindness to those who will remain. Given what we have, it could be a decade long project.

Well, she said that she doesn't have time to think about it now. She has to prepare a talk, a prayer service and a commissioning rite for later this week. And she has to start tonight! She is running out of time. Aren't we all?

Celebratory Tofu????

Can you see how beautiful it was outside today? We could too, from the window. The keeper is quite upset with me because of my choice to drink out of the slimy puddles and plant pots. So, we cannot go out, and meanwhile other animals are marking our yard and our territory. We tried to sneak out when the Chinese food delivery came tonight, but no, she caught us. And on top of that, she insisted on telling us how beautiful it was this morning as she drove around the north end of the lake to work. She said she saw an eagle in a tree hovering over the water, waiting for fish. She told us how the lake rippled slowly like pewter silk, and how the evening clouds were orange and mauve and how blankets of crows ribboned across the horizon. And we were stuck in the house. We are ignoring her. Maybe tomorrow we can go back out.

She left us again to go visit a lovely lady named Dorothy, whom I met when I was a kitten. Dorothy is dying and she wanted to see the keeper. She was a neighbor back at the old church and helped the keeper move to the new house, and gave gardening tips. The keeper said she was alert and they just sat together mostly, after all the praying was done. The keeper had lost track of her over the past few years. She hopes to see her at least one more time. Dorothy is very peaceful and ready to cross over.

Then the keeper invited us to celebrate her victory tonight--she was awarded a grant that she didn't expect--and so ordered curry from Black Pearl. Imagine our disappointment when she offered us curried tofu. What kind of celebration is tofu??? The high priced cat food looked pretty good tonight by comparison.

Farewell, Kay

Tonight we learned we lost another friend after a rapid cancer. She went to the hospital not feeling well, and never came home. The keeper says that she was a writer, editor, photographer, a courageous woman, a mother and a prophet. Her life was far from easy, but we have all been blessed and are better because of her triumphs and her struggles. Rest in peace at last, Kay.

Dedication of St. John Lateran & Remembrance of Deceased Homeless

Today commemorates a very famous basilica in Rome. At the cathedral tonight, an almost full house gathered to commemorate the 85 homeless men and women who died in Seattle this past year. High school students lit 85 votive candles on the four corners of the sanctuary. The Young Women's Ensemble sang and Fr. R took the readings for the feast and wove them into a call to construct a church that shapes a world where all have a home which is safe. We have a long way to go, we would suggest. At the end of the liturgy, the cathedral bagpiper piped everyone out to the courtyard where they sang the Salve Regina and the tower bell tolled 85 times in honor of each of the decesased. Ironic, sobering, tender evening. Honoring those we did not honor very well on earth, we have done much better honoring in their silent, unseen deaths.