Thursday, or Thereabouts - April 18, 2019

Today is Maundy Thursday in the western Christian tradition. Tonight churches, following a sacramental tradition, will begin the Paschal Triduum, the three day period of liturgical observances that leave Lent behind and usher in the Easter season. What begins with darkness and fear ends with light and ...

I love this word. Be it whispered or shouted or sung, it is a word that for me is overflowing with gratitude, hope, humility, triumph, and joy. I cannot say it without a smile crossing my lips, a warmth rising in my heart, a tickling of joy sparkling through my soul.


This has little to do with any religious experience or celebration, and everything to do with my childhood memories and the family traditions that were and still are the Easter celebrations.

When I was a child, Maundy Thursday was an ordinary school day, but once I got home, the ToDo list for the coming days was announced. Most of the chores had to do with cleaning -  my room, the floors, the dining room table and, maybe the windows. Oh, and one other task - polishing the silver.

Good Friday was the day my mother, sisters and I gathered around the kitchen table to polish eight full place settings and serving pieces. If we were hosting the whole "fam-damily" then the coffee urn and tea service were added to the polishing list. There was something joyous about removing stains of darkness and renewing shine and sparkle.

Alleluia!

Saturday was the day we decorated the eggs for the Easter Bunny to hide. I don't recall there ever being a concern about how a bunny who hides eggs and Jesus rising from the dead were connected (or not!). They were separate events that shared the same timing. No conflict at all, at least not in my family.

Alleluia!

My late mother, struggling with Alzheimer's decorated
this wood craft in 2002. It is an Easter treasure. 

Easter morning we all rose to go to church (after the Easter egg hunt of course!). There we sang the great hymns, inhaled (and nearly fainted from) the fragrance of gazillion dozen Easter Lilies, and wished everybody a Happy Easter. Then it was home for the grand feast celebrated with family gathered around the dining room table.

Alleluia!

Nowadays, we are a family of blended faith and traditions. Our Easter is shared with those celebrating Passover (Hebrew greeting: Chag Sameach!) and those who will celebrate the Pascal Feast a week from now in accordance with the Julian calendar (Serbian greeting: Hristos vaskrse, and the response: Vaistinu vaskrse).

I am blessed by the richness that these traditions bring to my table.

I am blessed by the love we share.

Alleluia!

©2019 April Hoeller

Monday Moanings - April 15, 2019

We are NOT amused!

After last night's thunderous ovation accompanied by great flashes of light, I thought that truly Lady Spring had finally stepped onto the stage. This morning's view out my sunroom showed something quite different.

And so, once again, my hand is forced to pen a letter of remonstrance...

My dear Lady of Radiant Joy,

I do so love your annual visits - your soft fingers of brightness empower my post-winter days, stirring me to new hopes, new dreams, coaxing new life out of my hibernating soul. Your fresh greens and blossoms full of promise are the delight of my days.

And oh how I thrill to the solar system's announcement of your opening day. BUT it has now been over three weeks since the Sun's proclamation and you have yet to grace my doorstep. Oh it is true that you have made a few short forays, staying just long enough to fool me into setting out my red chair.

March 31, 2019

But the very next day guess who I found sitting there?

There is much grumbling in the realm, my dear. People are rather upset about your absence, so much so that some have filed "Missing Person" reports, while others have declared an "Error 404" condition (file or directory not found). There have also been a few notices of termination issued, pink slips with your name on them and the words, "You're FIRED!"

Can you blame them? Just look again at this morning's offering:

I prefer a conciliatory approach to address this issue with you, a kinder, gentler therapy. I understand how hard it is to face down a blustering winter windbag. I understand your reluctance to stand your ground against a bully who has overstayed his seasonal booking. So I forgive your meandering March missteps. I forgive your awkward April absence.

Now tell me, how can I help you overcome the obstacles in your way? May I suggest some assertiveness exercises, along with a twelve-step confidence building and self-esteem enhancement program? All of which will be fast-tracked, I assure you. Together we can do this.

Come along now dear.

Take my hand and let's get this done.

It's time.

Hugs & kisses

April

P.S. Just in case all you really need is a swift kick - 

GET YOUR BACKSIDE IN GEAR - 

GET UP, GET DRESSED AND SHOW UP! 

(Don't make me send out the Easter Bunny to find you!)

©2019 April Hoeller

Thursday, or Thereabouts - April 11, 2019

It's cold, -3°C. It's grey and snow flurries are mocking Spring as they twirl outside my door. I'm sure I can hear giggling! So I'm going to stay indoors and daydream about blooms both wild and cultivated - vibrant with colour and fragrance, magnificent and without limit.

I love watching the forest come to life every Spring. Without any hand planting, or watering, or weeding, colour emerges.

Sophie loves the trilliums.

I truly have neither the diligence nor the talent to manage much beyond hanging baskets and a few planters filled with hardy blooms that tolerate sandy soil, full sun, and my frequent neglect.

I can hardly wait to get my hands dirty rooting around in the rich earth, caring for this year's gaggle of joy and wonder. Oh - and look what I found in my garden tour yesterday - fledgling rhubarb

...and a bulb daring to sprout in a planter along the south wall of the house. I'm not sure what it is yet, as I planted crocus, tulips in the pot back in the Fall.

Hope springs eternal!

©2019 April Hoeller

Monday Moanings - April 8, 2019

It's raining. It's pouring...

The room seemed dark this morning,  even though the bedside clock read 7:50am. I stretched and yawned then just lay in the gloomy light and listened. Rain on the roof announced itself, "Pitter patter, pitter patter."

Then another sound reached my awakening ears. Robins singing their hearts out,  "Cheer-up, cheer-up."

While it may seem like just another Monday, there is something beautiful about this morning. It is raining not snowing, it is a warm PLUS 9°C at 9am and the birds are singing.

Spring is awakening...

©2019 April Hoeller

Thursday, or Thereabouts - April 4, 2019

On this day in 1953...

Time is such a contrary companion. When I want it to go fast, it crawls. When I want it to slow down, it slams into hyperdrive, and it never stands still no matter how much I plead. While it is an uncomfortable fact of life that many more years lie behind me than ahead of me, what these coming years will bring me is a mystery. And I do like a good mystery, a hands-on adventure!

What I don't like is the toll time and adventure exacts on the human body, mine particular. For some ten years now, my body has betrayed me in small but undeniable, occasionally embarrassing, ways. I have lowered a few expectations and let go of any notion of realizing a few dreams. So you won't find me mountain climbing in the Swiss Alps, playing ice hockey, ski jumping, white water kayaking, surfing the perfect wave in Hawaii, or even doing something so risky as drinking a full glass of water a half hour before a car ride. I have adapted but not quit.

Recently a friend and fellow blogger, Leueen Willoughby, began writing a series about how she and others of vintage years, resist being defined or limited by age. Leueen's answer, with a tip of the hat to Clint Eastwood, is: "Don't let the old gal in." I like that approach. Thank you Leueen!

Some mornings, the old gal thumps on my front door, uninvited, unscheduled, unwelcome. But there she is with her arthritis, her resentment, and melancholia, moaning about getting old. Sometimes she pushes to get a foot in the door as she wails about her missing favourite pen, her journal, or her cell phone because she can't for the life of her remember where she left them. I may listen to and even commiserate with her for a moment. The old gal is after all a helpful reminder that I've let myself get tired, or bored, or that I've eaten poorly. I can fix those things and the lost always get found ... eventually.

I have things to do and places to go. You will find me working out, walking, eating as I ought (most of the time!), enjoying a glass of wine, cooking up a cultural feast at home or perhaps sipping a cappuccino in a faraway place. You will find me in the company of the people I love, doing the things I love, in the places I love, and grateful for the love and life I am so blessed to experience.

I am NOT letting that old gal in either!
       And besides, there's a new kid on the block...a granddaughter.

©2019 April Hoeller

Monday Moanings - April 1, 2019

April Fools' Day




I loathed this day when I was a child. There was no fun in having my name, April and therefore me, connected with 'fool'. No matter how hard I tried, how brave a face I began the day with, I always ended up feeling every bit a despicable fool.

Every year in primary school this day reduced me to tears which then evoked more teasing - "Cry baby!"

The only escape from this annual day of humiliation came when April 1st fell on the weekend and those even less frequent years when the date was eclipsed by Good Friday or Easter Monday.




I survived of course. I'm happy to report that except for the briefest of stings in my depths, gone is the great anxiety that used to accompany the day. Now when April Fools' Day comes around, a smile creases my face and my heart warms to thoughts of that most wonderful of Springtime delights - the spaghetti harvest.

The BBC meticulously covered the harvest in the Ticino region of southern Switzerland and presented it to viewers on this day in 1957. Click here for the link.

Following the broadcast, the network was flooded with inquiries about where one might find spaghetti seeds, cuttings, and bushes. Some folks were quite irate to discover that they had been pranked by none other than the BBC.

I recall watching the clip with my folks and my Dad becoming almost apoplectic with laughter. For years afterward, there were frequent references in our house to spaghetti trees always accompanied by great chortling. God bless the BBC!

Another harvest of delight blossoms up from my memory garden...April Fools Day 1965. At the supper table that night my younger sister, a chirpy five-year-old, regaled the family with jokes half-remembered from her kindergarten class. Grinning from ear to ear, eager anticipation bouncing through her body, she asked, "When is Cathy Fools' Day?"

There was silence for a moment before barely concealed snorts of derision erupted around the table. Her little face went blank then a giggle emerged, but only because we were laughing.




I recall Mom was the exception to the laughter.  A smile creased her face but it was quickly covered by a paper napkin into which she coughed.  Composure regained, she put her hand on Cathy's, "You know dear, April Fool's Day is not about your sister at all."

All the gentleness and sincerity was lost on Cathy. Seriously, how could it not be about her sister April? No amount of explanation satisfied the little one. And so it came to pass that the First Monday in May 1965 was proclaimed "Cathy Fools' Day" by Mom's authority. Cathy skipped off to school that day full of tricks, homemade jokes - as only a five-year-old can make them - and a note from Mom explaining the holiday.

Giggles trump tears.

Happy memories soothe bruises.

Love conquers all.

I'm heading out in the snow to check on my spaghetti trees...

©2019 April Hoeller