Sitting here at the Townsend Street Market grabbing one of their fabulous “pepper steak, peppers, onion, cheese” subs. Hot, delicious and fresh…

I’m throwing a few more colories into this 59 year old frame–don’t ride as well when I’m doing the longer distances without a couple of days of extra carbs. Ahhh…

Doing shorter, more immediate posts these days. Surrounded here by the deli’s windows with a dozen wi-fi access points… half of them wide open (a trusting, rural neighborhood?). No problem tapping out this missive while I munch, then voilà!, out to the clouds.

Let’s hope the real clouds aren’t in abundance for tomorrow’s ride!

For a few weeks I’ve been bemoaning the time to sit down at the keyboard and write a post. Oh, Tim! You’re so slow to think “outside the box”!

Thanks, B.A. for the Twitter follow–got me to acting, instead of feeling sorry for time lost because of my own inflexibility… so, a “tweet” since 9:00AM and this brief post.

All on the iPod Touch, on found Wi-Fi. Cool!

Earlier today I thought, “Carpenter… Joseph… Jesus were carpenters.  They made useful items with tools and the skill of their hands.”  What a positive connotation the word “carpenter” has.  Until you juxtapose it with an insect:  ants.  Carpenter Ants!

Over 30 years ago we carefully constructed a grape arbor on the back of our large garage.  In that time, we’ve enjoyed some delicious Concord grapes and used the area under the grape arbor for everything from a small garden, to a dog pen… to storage.  A damp, shady environment–and over time, a perfect home for carpenter ants.

Well, when Loretta and Brian tackled the job of completing the sheetrock, mudding and painting inside our garage, they encountered the carpenter ant nest… and found hundreds of the tenancious critters.  Within a week we called in the Erlich guys to nuke the nest and then began the tedious process of removing our 10″ cedar siding (carefully so it can be reapplied) and stripping out the rotted timbers and channeled wood caused by the infiltration of water in the wall and the activity of the ants.

It’s turned into a BIG project, but as you can see in the hyperlinked photo album, we’re making great headway. Here’s hoping that within the week we’re all sealed up again and the ants… the few that are hiding out… are dead and gone!

Scavengers… that’s really all they are.  A sesame seed here, toast crumb tumbling to the ground there–but the tweets!  Ah, if it weren’t for the chirping, tweeting descent by wings so animated and lively;  well, if not for that, perhaps I’d put my foot down.  But how could I?

These sparrows of the street, in hopping clusters around the legs of the cafe table outside, know an easy eat.  And so they scavenge…  no, “clean up”, I guess.  Are they really any different than the lumbering street cleaner polishing the granite curbs along Main Street as I drove into town this morning?

————-

Gospel Hill Road received a fresh coating of oil and stone the other day.  Of course, it’s a way to seal the road, but that “like new” look lasts but just a few days.  I missed the event, since I was at work, but the job certainly was done by far fewer than 6,000 men, unlike the boulevard reconstruction above in San Francisco, circa 1933.

And yet, musing over  R. T. Smith’s poem, Scavenging the Wall, poked a bit at some themes rattling around in the hollow cavity on my shoulders.

So I gathered
what I could, scooped them into the bed

and trucked my freight away under birdsong
in my own life’s autumn.

“Life’s autumn”… yes, that’s it. And the sparrows…  still singing, still scavenging.

Oh, how we strive for perfection!  And how we fall short …

Since February, I’ve been snatching an hour here, an hour there…  transforming my “office” into a true study – “A Country Deacon’s Study”.  My vision is one of a space with my books and reference materials close at hand.  The hand written Book of Gospels in a place of honor and of true utility.  A space that also incorporates my tiny Mac Mini hidden away in a twenty-something year-old pine combination typing/file cabinet from Yield House that only surrenders a hint of its technology innards with a modest flat panel display on top.  Firewire external hard drive, Bluetooth wireless keyboard and mouse all tucked inside by the mini…

But what a time undoing the old office in which “technology” spilled from every corner of the room!  It’s at times like these that I wonder if it’s all worth it–the technology, I mean.  iPod Touch, HDTV, Blu-Ray, streaming audio through the Squeeze Box… for starters!

And so I gingerly pick through the technology heap:  ancient HP all-in-one to the landfill…  DSL modem and Xincom Dual-WAN IP gateway up to the shelf in the closet…  Mac mini on a card table for now while the Yield House cabinet gets a retro to hold the tech stuff.

If it weren’t for the welcome 20 minute break for vespers… the thought of HIS incredible love for us on this eve of the Solemnity of The Most Sacred Heart… if not for this…  Thank you, Lord, for showing us that while perfection may be our goal, that it is only in loving you that we approach true simplicity, humility and peace.

And so the adventure begins…

Our youngest daughter “landed” in Maine last week after a 470+ mile drive from Gospel Hill.  Her new home for the summer? Edgewater Farm, working as a “Willing Worker On Organic Farms”…  a WWOOF’er in the lingo of the nearly 40 year-old organization.

According to owners, Bill and Carol Emerson, the “Edgewater Farm B&B is located on four acres of perennial, herb, fruit tree and vegetable gardens.”  Sounds beautiful… a great place to begin a WWOOF’ing experience.

And the willing workers at the Edgewater Farm aren’t just WOOF’ers.  The Maine Organic Farmers and Gardners Association connects those who want to learn more about organic farming through their “Farm Apprenticeship” program.  According to our daughter, several of the workers are sponsored by MOFGA.  Networks for promoting organic, sustainable agriculture have truly taken hold locally, nationally and world wide.

WWOOF is a world wide network that began in the UK in 1971 and is now an international movement:  “helping people share more sustainable ways of living.”  WWOOF is an exchange:   volunteers help, WWOOF hosts offer food, accommodation and opportunities to learn about organic lifestyles.

Our oldest daughter and her husband introduced our family to WWOOF several years ago when they met a young couple from Japan who were “WWOOF’ing around the world”.  A great pair who basically dedicated a year of their lives to seeing the world, while exploring the incredible diversity of organic farming.  And along the way, making lasting relationships and planting ideas for others to cultivate. Later this year, our daughter and son-in-law will be flying to Japan to vacation with them.  And so the adventures continue…

Over the Memorial Day holiday, we leveraged some time off (ah, a true misnomer!) and planned a “Memorial Day Work Weekend”. Instead of concentrating on projects here on Gospel Hill Road, we headed south and worked on our apartment, a turn of the century cement block duplex that we work hard to keep in repair and looking good.

Thanks to help from Loretta, Brian and Theresa, we accomplished more than we ever expected: all of the bad blocks in two key areas were replaced, the entire outside of the second floor got painted, the roof received a recoat… and lots more.

Using both a scissors lift and stationary scaffolding, we really did get up in the world for five days in the sun.  A great break from the usual routine with sunny skies every day!

Just a week ago, our grandson Thaddeus was baptized at St. Bartholomew the Apostle Church. [See On the occasion of...] A joyous time!  Today, the newly baptized child found his voice in church…

After Mass... a rest for the boy!

A baby’s cry in church can be such a distraction… or a blessing.  Today, Thaddeus’ Mom was Lector and this was one 3-month old that convinced all of us that HE KNOWS Mom’s voice!  As Loretta began to read from the Book of Acts, her amplified voice from the lecturn evoked an immediate, sustained and loud cry of recognition from our grandson!

When Fr. Doug finished proclaiming the Gospel, before he even began his homily, he addressed those of us gathered at 9:00 Mass:  “If you had any doubt that a child doesn’t know his mother’s voice, that was Thaddeus when Loretta began the reading!”.  His recognition of the event was a blessing in itself, as he recognized the presence of all in Christ’s presence–proclaiming and praising God in their own voice.

After Mass, we enjoyed some time with friends just talking and joking about the little guy’s new “voice” during the service. Of course, we all knew that at the bottom of it all was Thaddeus’ hunger.  A boy must eat, after all!

A special moment in the young boy’s life:  an entrance into the family of God, our church community with a voice raised high and long!

"Deacon Grandpa Tim" Baptizes Thaddeus

Mother’s Day, 10 May 2009

What a day it was!  Even now, 4 days after the Baptism of our first grandchild, Thaddeus Nolan, I’m unwrapping the mystery of the sacrament, savoring each petal of the flower of redemption of grace with which our grandson was blessed.

More to come in the days ahead…  understanding, remembering, owning this amazing time with family and friends.

[View a Slideshow of the Baptism]

It was going to happen… eventually. For nearly 25 years I enjoyed seeing my Father or Father-in-Law sleeping peacefully in one of the living room recliners cradling one of our four children. Those memories of the “grandpa with child” at rest seemed to capture a spirit of repose and contentment that I could never achieve–always on the go… something more to do.

However, little Thaddeus, our first grandhild, has changed all that! Linda caught me in the “grandpa with child” posture the other day.  The little guy and I were cuddled right up, snoozing away. A new reality for me, to be sure.

For Thaddeus, well, time will tell!