Overdue Report on December Visit to Monastery

 Most of my visits/retreats begin on Sunday evening and end on the afternoon of Wednesday or Thursday. This time, however, I arrived on the afternoon of Friday, December 9, and stayed until the afternoon of Wednesday the 14th, For my spiritual reading I had brought The Genesee Diary, by Henri Nouwen. It consists of extracts from the diary he kept for the seven months he was living alongside the monks of Genesee Abbey in upstate New York. I had thought that it would be way to long to finish during my visit, but instead of pondering every line, I read it normally, stopping to note really striking thoughts. In that way, I finished it while I was there.

A couple of weeks into his time at Genesee, Nouwen asked the abbot, "How am I doing?" and he replied, "I guess okay. Nobody has mentioned you yet." More striking was Nouwen's insight that when you want people to be thinking about you, to be paying attention to you, "you haven't even begun to create a little space for God in your heart."

I also had Puritan's Diary, by Charles Coulombe, a history of America from the point of view of an integralist Catholic. He sees in the British colonization of North America and the subsequent history of the United States a tale of anti=Catholicism triumphant. He has a point, but his ideal of a Catholic establishment is hardly the necessary remedy.

The daily routine was similar to previous visits — prayers at 6:00 a.m., noonish, 5:30 & 7:30 p.m. (slightly different on Sunday), breakfast about 7:25, lunch after the noon prayers, dinner and recreation after the 5:30 service.

During recreation I spent more time than previously with the Prior, Fr. Augustine, who proved to be more genial than I had expected, and Bro. Andrew, a college student from a monastery in Alabama. Of course, there were other monks joining them for games and conversation.

At one point, Fr. Augustine mentioned that he had a video of the 1982 Midnight Mass at the Abbey. One of the networks would trans mit the Mass from a different location each year, and in '82 they chose St. Anselm. He dicided to play it for some of us on Tuesday evening after recreation and Compline. It was interesting to see the monks of the time. Most of them had been there in the late '60s (and most have died or left since then) while a few had entered in the intervening years.

One unusual event was meeting on Monday afternoon with an Assistant Vice President of the College and the Director of the Humanities Institute. I gave the money to create a scolarship for 18th Century Studies in memoery of my father. The awardee will work on a research project during his/her senior year, and present the results in a paper. Thei inspiration comes from my dad's frequent syaying that if he could live at any other time, he'd choose "the 18th Century, because there was a ferment of ideas." The money comes from an inheritance from my brother.

The Director of the Humanities Institute, Gary Bouchard, gave me a copy of a small book of poems he had written, What News, Horatio? He was inspired by some bizarre headlines in his local paper, and each poem has one of those headlines as its title, but then he lets his imagination run free. As the title of the book suggests, each poem also has quotes from or references to Hamlet. It's pretty amusing.

So in many ways this was similar to all my earlier visits, but there were also some unique aspects to it.

Monastery Visit and Retreat July 6-13, 2022

 This was an unusual visit in several ways.

For one thing, there was less of the usual daily routine and more special events. For another, I had to take a break and go home for a memorial service, and I was away from the monastery for about 28 hours on Saturday and Sunday.

As you may recall, the normal routine involves lunch and dinner taken in the refectory without talking, while one of the monks reads from a book — except on Sunday evenings when dinner is either in the cloister yard or in the chapter room, with conversation among those present.

This year, however, a man was admitted to the novitiate on Friday, with a festive lunch following in the cloister yard. The on Saturday a novice took temporary vows, followed by another cloister yard lunch. To top it all off, on Monday, another monk took his permanent vows‚ attended by maybe 180 family and friends, followed by a reception in the courtyard and a big lunch. Since Monday was the Feast of St. Benedict, we also had a festive outdoor dinner that evening. The result was that I got two lunches (Thursday and Tuesday) and three dinners (Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday) in the refectory with silence and table reading. Breakfasts were also a bit unusual. The monastery is in the midst of bringing in new kitchen staff, and the usual eggs were not available. Cereals, breads and toppings, and juices were available. Breakfast is always assembled by each individual from the available materials.

All the festive meals increased my time for visiting with the monks but cut into the time available for reading and pondering the books I had brought for my retreat — Entering the Twofold Mystery: On Christian Conversion, by Erik Varden, and Life is Messy, by Matthew Kelly. The Kelly book is based on a time of great difficulty in his life and basically encourages us not to let ourselves be defeated by the bad stuff. It's based on his journals from the time, and feels a bit repetitive.

Varden was abbot of a Trappist monastery in England,* and the book comes from talks he gave to the monks. It may seem unconnected with life "in the world," but there are lessons to be applied. One is about obedience. Monks don't just have to do what the abbot tells them. They also should obey one another. It's a good point for all of us: when someone needs us to do something, we should be willing to help. My other major takeaway has to do with "murmuring," which St. Benedict considered one of the worst vices in a monk. It can undermine a community because instead of speaking to the abbot or the person being complained about, the murmurer sows bad feelings among others, thereby creating disunity. When we resent what someone else gets, when we focus on what we wish we had instead of realizing the good we do have, if we start grumbling about it, it can disrupt the groups we're part of. So we should be aware of our feelings of envy or discontent.

All in all it was a very worthwhile and enjoyable visit/retreat.

*He later bacame a bishop in his native Norway.

A Long-awaited Visit to the Monastery — Part 2

 On Sunday evening, as I had planned, I read the introduction to Rowan Williams' book and turned the The Assignment. I had tried to begin reading it several weeks earlier, but the first chapter introduced so many characters that I couldn't keep them straight, and I set it aside. Now, however, I read two chapters and felt less confused.

As I began the book, I thought that the teacher's reason for the assignment made sense: it is necessary to understand the mindset of racists and bigots if we want to be able to argue effectively against them. Genocide is an ongoing problem. The class was one for outstanding high school seniors, taught by a much admired teacher. The school had no Jewish students. The two who objected were long-time friends Logan, who lived with her father, a college math professor, and Cade, whose parents ran an inn beside the lake (Ontario). Others in the class included Mason, captain of the hockey team and son of the abusive coach and Logan's rival for valedictorian; his girl friend; two other members of the hockey team; and a gay boy named Daniel. When the assignment was given, one of the hockey players gave a Nazi salute and said, "Heil Hitler," to which the other said, "Sieg Heil." The teacher rebuked them.

At 9:30. with nothing else to do, I went to bed. Although I never go to bed before midnight at home, since I don't bring the internet with me to the monastery, there is nothing to stay awake for once I've done all the reading I want for the evening.

Monday, Sept. 6, was Labor Day. I got up late, at 5:25, but still managed to be in church well before the start of Vigils and Lauds, which runs from 6:00 to about 6:45. Since it was a holiday, the kitchen crew had the day off, and monks prepared all three meals. For breakfast, at 7:25 Bro. Celestine offered a normal variety (eggs, bacon, sausage, pancakes), plus "overnight apple french toast," which was delicious. He said that it was customary in his family on Easter Sunday.

Later in the morning I previewed the readings for the following Sunday's Mass, caught up on the newspapers in the chapter room, read Chapter 1 about Benedict and chapters 3 & 4 of The Assignment, and visited the graves of the two monks who died in July.

Mornings generally followed a similar pattern: rising shortly after 5:00, church, breakfast, newspapers, books. As time went on I found myself reading increasing amounts of the novel, and I held to my plan of a chapter of Williams in the morning and another in the afternoon — trying to draw applications for myself.

Midday Prayer at noon was followed by lunch in the chapter room. I don't remember who prepared it. It was pretty basic sandwich makings, chips, etc. I sat at a table with Abbot Mark and Brothers Ignatius, Basil, Celestine (both of whom were going to resume seminary studies on Tuesday), and Thomas (the new novice).

In the afternoon, it was more reading, napping, haustus (snack) at 3:30. (The pattern for the next two days as well.)

Mass was at 5:15, followed by steak (IIRC) dinner in the cloister yard, followed by Vespers, followed by KP, followed by more reading before my bedtime.

By this point I had read three chapters of The Way of St. Benedict. In the first two Williams points out that stability is a central part of a monk's vows. The monk will be part of the same community for life, which means that, whatever you think of him, he's not going away. So you have to live with him. Williams draws from the Rule of St. Benedict three necessary qualities for a monk: he must be transparent, a peacemaker, and accountable. Papering over pproblems won't work. Williams suggests that these qualities are needed in the wider world as well. In the third chapter, Williams recalls Augustine of Canterbury and the monks who accompanied him to England from Rome shortly before 600. He suggests that they and subsequent generations of monks evangelized the English by being an example of living as Christians peacefully in community.

Tuesday, September 7. Things happened at the usual times. We were back to having meals in the refectory, with reading at lunch and dinner from the book Grant, by Ron Chernow. While I was there, we were hearing about the years just before the Civil War, when Grant was in St. Louis and impoverished.

In the morning I went to the bookstore, where I saw The Boethian Commentaries of Clarembald of Arras, translated and edited by David B. George and John R. Fortin, O.S.B. Since Fr. John had been a college student about to enter the monastery when I was there in the 60's, I "had" to buy it. I read the introductory material while I was there, and now it's in my pile of books to be read.

At recreation after dinner, I was introduced to UNO, by Fr. Augustine the new prior and novice master, Father Bede, and Brothers Ignatius, Andrew the college freshman from Alabama, and Thomas the novice. I watched a couple of games and then played a couple (and almost got the hang of it).

To be continued.

A Long-awaited Visit to the Monastery

  In December 2019, at the end of one of my customary semiannual retreat/visits to St. Anselm Abbey in New Hampshire, I said to Abbot Mark and Brother Ignatius, "See you next summer." Covid prevented that, as the monastery was not receiving guests. Usually I visit in July, to include the celebration of St. Benedict's day, July 11. But when I learned that they were again receiving guests and tried to schedule a visit to include St. Benedict's Day and Bro. Aloysius' final vows on July 10, they were already at capacity with other guests who were coming for Bro. Aloysius. So I ended up scheduling my visit for September 5-9.

When I finally was able to schedule a visit, Brother Ignatius had just been appointed Guest Master, and when I arrived in mid-afternoon on the 5th, I found that he had assigned me to the last room on the guest corridor. It's on a corner and is the only one with windows on two sides. As I was arriving and bringing things in from my car, I briefly encountered Bro. Ignatius and later Abbot Mark.

On Sundays there is a service of Vespers and Benediction at 5:30, followed by dinner prepared by one of the monks. (There are employees who are a kitchen crew who prepare most meals, but not for Sunday evenings and holidays.) That day Abbot Mark had prepared cheesesteak sandwiches and fruit salad. I sat at a table with Brother Andrew (who doesn't seem to like me), Fathers Iain and Benedict, and Brother Amadeus, whom I had never met before. He is applying to transfer to St. Anselm from Belmont Abbey in North Carolina and he arrived during the lockdown. He is teaching in the St. Anselm College required humanities program for freshmen and he seems pleasant enough.

After dinner on occasions when the monks have cooked, they also do the clean up. So dinner was followed by Compline, and after that we trooped into the kitchen. It's something other guests usually don't do, but I feel a connection with the monks going back to the 1960's when I was an applicant to join, so I njoy being part of the crew. I joined the group drying dishes, which is what I always do. One monk puts things in trays which get run through a big machine. After "we" dry them, others put them away. Meanwhile, the Abbot washes the big pots that won't go through the machine, and others dry them and put them away.

All of that was over by about 8:00, and it was time for Silence until after breakfast, and I went to my room. As usual, I had brought two books, one religious, and one "other." The first was The Way of St. Benedict by Rowan Williams, the retired Archbishop of Canterbury, which had been the "table reading" earlier this year during meals taken in silence in the refectory. It has seven chapters most of which try to suggest ways in which the Rule of St. Benedict can apply to the contemporary world outside monasteries. Each chapter is based on an article he had written some time ago. I figured I could read the Introduction on Sunday, two chapters a day Monday through Wednesday, and the final chapter on Thursday morning.

My other book was The Assignment by Liza Wiemer a novel based on an actual incident in which two students objected to an assignment in an advanced history class. Students were required to support one of two sides at the January 1942 Wannsee Conference, where the question was whether to send Jews and others deemed undesirable to death camps or to sterilize them, confine them to ghettoes, and work them to death. The studebts in real life and in the book refused to take part and asked that the assignment be cancelled on the grounds that it's wqrong to require people to defend either alternative. My town's civil rights, anti-discrimination committee had decided to read it and discuss it at our meeting on September 20.

To be continued.

A Visit to the Monastery in Advent

I thought it would be interesting to see what things were like during Advent, so I scheduled a three-day visit — from the afternoon of Tuesday, December 11 through the afternoon of Friday, the 14th.
Things were not very different from the way they were during previous visits. Of course, it was colder than during visits during other seasons, but the biggest difference wasn't because it was Advent, but because the college was in session.

When the college is not in session — as was the case during most of my visits — on weekdays the community Mass is at 8:30 a.m. and Vespers is in the late afternoon, followed by dinner and recreation, with Compline at 7:30. But when the college is in session — as was the case this time — Mass is in the late afternoon, with Vespers at 7:05, following dinner and recreation. Compline is prayed privately. This schedule accommodates monks who have jobs in the college as well as students who would find the afternoon a more convenient time for Mass that the morning. But I'm sorry to be unable to pray Compline in choir with the community.

There were two things that were different specifically because it was Advent: there were some special antiphons, hymns, and prayers for the Advent season; and there was an Advent wreath in the refectory in front of the Abbot's table.

(My place at table is visible between the two candles on the left. The abbot's table is offscreen to the right, at right angle to the tables pictured here.)

(Looking from my place toward refectory door. Abbot's table to the left. The retired abbot, the prior, and the subprior also sit there.)

Apart from those differences, the routine was indistinguishable from how it had been during my earlier visits.

Alumni Hall, the oldest, and iconic, building, had window candles and a lighted wreath.

On Thursday, five students from the college came for an overnight visit. I would have liked to meet them during recreation, but the abbot thought that I wanted to play bridge with the old monks and insisted that I take his place at that table.

I had brought several books: among others Jan Sobieski: The King Who Saved Europe, by Miltiades Varvounis, on my Kindle reader; Wrestling with God, by Richard Rolheiser; and most importantly The Biggest Lie in the History of Christianity, by Matthew Kelly. If I read the first chapter of the Kelly book on Tuesday evening, five chapters on Wednesday and another five on Thursday, there would be four left for Friday. It was a very good book and it was easy to follow that program. On Friday morning it occurred to me (or as the Evangelicals would say, "The Lord told me") that I should share the book with the students. So while we were waiting for Midday Prayer to begin, I gave it to one of the students and asked him to share it with the others.

I had already read more than half of the book on Jan Sobieski, and I finished it during my time there. But I only read one chapter of the book by Rolheiser.

When I wasn't praying, reading, eating, or recreating, I had time to take pictures, to stroll around, and to visit the campus bookstore, and to drive to a nearby Market Basket and get a couple of gift cards which had been requested for my parish's giving tree. Here are a couple of photos of the campus flags (U.S., N.H., and college) at half mast, presumably in honor of President Bush.

 (Alumni Hall in background.)

(Library in background.)

I had brought my private signal with me,

(The swan and crescent and the colors black and white come from a family coat of arms, the fouled anchor represents race committee, and the "gout de sang" (red drop) is from the St. Anselm coat of arms.)

 and at recreation on Tuesday evening I showed it it Brother Ignatius — who took final vows last summer — and to several of the older monks. Father Peter was especially intrigued.

When I was almost ready to leave, after lunch on Friday, I had a conversation with Brother Ignatius. I told him what I had done during this visit, and we looked forward to seeing each other on my next visit, probably next summer.

I recommend clicking on the pictures to enlarge them.

Six Days at the Monastery — July 2018, cont'd.

As it happened, Bro. Aloysius had professed his vows on Saturday, July 7, so I missed that. I was able to give him the icon after Compline (night prayer) on Sunday, while we all were doing the dishes from dinner. He gave me a very kind thank you note and he told me he had hung it on the wall above his bed.

The daily schedule gave periods of under an hour between Lauds and breakfast, and between breakfast and Mass. There was over two hours between Mass and Midday Prayer (followed by lunch) and between lunch and Vespers. After Compline, I could go to bed whenever I wanted, so had all the time I needed for reading. I read a chapter of Fr. Cedric's book during each of those longer periods. I used the shorter periods, as well as the ample free time in morning and afternoon for my other books. In addition to my "retreat books," I had brought a couple of scripture commentaries to help me prepare my homily, and a couple of "secular" books for relaxation. I only looked at one — A Man Called Intrepid, by William Stevenson, which I had on Kindle and had nearly finished — and I finished it toward the end of my visit. I also walked around campus several times, taking pictures and exploring the new student center.

In midafternoon there is a custom called Haustus (Latin for '"draught"). Monks and guests can drop in to the refectory, have a snack, and chat. The novices and junior monks are frequently there, a couple of the senior monks come by sometimes, but others have jobs in the college and don't get there. It was a nice chance to spend some time with the guys who came.

 Fr. Peter, guest, Bro. Ignatius, Bro. Titus, Fr. Brendan, Bro. Francis.

Guest, Bro. Basil, Abbot Mark, Bro Titus.

Between dinner and Compline there is a period of "recreation" during which the monks gather in the chapter room and converse, read newspapers, play games, etc. I kibbitzed at the bridge table several evenings and played when two of the regulars (Abbot Mark, Bishop Joseph, Fathers Cecil, Peter, and, if needed, Anselm) were missing.

Except at "festive" meals (Sunday evening, big feasts like St. Benedict's day, and celebrations like the receptions for the jubilarians and Bro. Ignatius) meals are taken in silence, with a monk reading to the rest. While I was there, they finished a book about the sinking of the cargo ship El Faro with the loss of the entire crew of 33: Into the Raging Sea, by Rachel Slade. Then they began Three Days in Moscow: Ronald Reagan and the Fall of the Soviet Empire, by Bret Baier, about Reagan's visit to the Soviet Union in May, 1988. The beginning was so interesting that I got the book for my Kindle.
It was a pleasant stay. The biggest point I got from my retreat reflections was that I need to stop procrastinating and do things. At this point, I'm thinking of having a brief visit in Advent — maybe two or three days in the second week of December, depending on what's happening here in the parish.

I recommend clicking the photos to enlarge them.

Six Days at the Monastery — July 2018

My visit to St. Anselm Abbey in New Hampshire — from Sunday afternoon July 8 through Saturday afternoon July 14 — had several purposes:

1. Be present for the solemn monastic profession (final vows) of Brother Ignatius Membrino, O.S.B.
   
    Bro. Ignatius prostrates while the Litany of Saints is chanted.
   
    At the altar signing his vows.
   
    Chanting a verse from the Psalms invoking God's support.
   
    Leaving the sanctuary at the end of Mass, followed by the priests.
   
   With Father Mathias, prior, Abbot Mark, and Father Peter, subprior.
   
   With Father Mathias, prior, Abbot Mark, and Father Peter, subprior.
   The abbot had introduced us when I was visiting in late June, 2014, and Ignatius was a novice about to take simple (temporary) vows. I returned for that vow-taking in early July.
2. Go on retreat, away from the internet and my usual routine. I brought the book Glorious Holy Spirit, by Fr. Cedric Pisegna, C.P., to read and reflect on. It has sixteen chapters, so I could complete by reading the first chapter on Sunday evening and three every day through Friday. I had a second book, World without End, based on interviews by a Belgian television host with Fr. Thomas Keating, O.C.S.O. I had begun it on my trip to Colorado in April and thought it would be good to dip into at times when I wasn't reading Fr. Pisenga's book.
3. See the novice Bro. Aloysius, O.S.B. take his simple vows and give him an icon of St. Aloysius.
4. Celebrate the Feast of St. Benedict, July 11, at the monastery.
5. Visit with the monks.
6. Prepare for the homily I was scheduled to deliver on July 15 at 7:30 a.m. Mass.

Beyond these there were a couple of bonuses which I hadn't known about in advance.

1. Four jubilees were celebrated on Tuesday, July 10. Two of the monks had taken their simple vows 70 years ago, July 2, 1948: Fr. Cecil Donahue, O.S.B., and Bishop Joseph Gerry, O.S.B. (Bishop Joseph is a former abbot of the monastery and was bishop of Portland, Maine, from 1989 until 2004.) Brother Isaac Murphy, O.S.B., professed simple vows 25 years ago, in 1883. Fr. Mathias Durette, O.S.B., prior of the monastery, was ordained a priest in 1993. The four jubilees were honored at Mass that morning at 11:00, followed by a reception and lunch in the student center.
2. On St. Benedict's Day, the community's postulant, Louis Franciose, was received as a novice, clothed with a monastic habit, and given the name Basil. The reception took place in the chapter room of the monastery in a private ceremony, which was followed by a special lunch in the courtyard.
   
   Jubilarians Father Cecil and Bishop Joseph at the lunch following the reception of Bro. Basil as a novice.
   
   Brothers Titus, Aloysius, Basil, Francis, and Dunstan. Aloysius and Francis are in simple vows; the other three are novices.

So it was a very full week.

I recommend clicking the photos to enlarge them.

To be continued.

D. B. Hart's New Testament — Epigraph

A few days ago, I bought a copy of the new translation of the New Testament by David Bentley Hart. The dust jacket tells us, "David Bentley Hart undertook this new translation of the New Testament in the spirit of 'etsi doctrina non daretur,' 'as if doctrine is not given.' Reproducing the texts’ often fragmentary formulations without augmentation or correction, he has produced a pitilessly literal translation, one that captures the texts’ impenetrability and unfinished quality while awakening readers to an uncanniness that often lies hidden beneath doctrinal layers."

As I began to look at it I was fascinated by the epigraph, whose source it took me a while to locate. It's in Greek, and can be translated, "The word says, 'Take up the stone, and there you will find me; split the wood, and I am there.'" The first thing that's interesting to me is that it's not from the New Testament, not even from the Bible, but from the Gospel of Thomas. The second thing is that he alters the introduction. In the original, it reads, "Jesus says," but Hart alters it to "The word says." Finally I find it interesting that he chooses this text, even apart from its source and his alteration of it. These things suggest several questions.

1.) Why does he draw the epigraph from the Gospel of Thomas? Maybe he doesn't want to take something from the New Testament for fear of making it seem that he thinks it's the most important thing in the whole Newt Testament. But he could have taken something from the Old Testament (e.g., the passage from Isaiah comparing God's word to the rain which does not return to him void — Isaiah 55:10-11). Is he insinuating that the Gospel of Thomas belongs in the canon of scripture, or does he just find this saying somehow apposite?
2.) Why does he attribute the saying to the word, rather than to Jesus? Is he using "word" in the sense in which it's used in John, Chapter 1, as an epithet for Jesus, so that it means the same thing as saying Jesus, but maybe with the specific connotation that Jesus is the Word of God? Does he mean, instead, to present this as an invitation and promise from scripture itself?
3.) What does it mean to him? Does he see his work of translating as, metaphorically, a strenuous effort of lifting up stones and splitting wood to reveal Jesus or the true meaning of the scriptures? Are the readers being encouraged to do the heavy lifting in order to find the meaning of the word?

My Retreat — 2017

The week of July 9 looked like a good one to go on retreat at the monastery. July 11 is St. Benedict's Day, and it's good to be able to celebrate it in a Benedictine house. The week would be six months since Ryan became a postulant and three years since Brother Ignatius took temporary vows, so it was likely that Ryan would become a novice and Ignatius would make his permanent vows. In my first post about my February visit, I mistakenly said that Ryan was a recent college graduate. Actually, he was a senior at the time: he graduated in May this year.

Ryan did indeed become a novice. In previous years, the ceremony was held in the Abbey Church, which meant it would be public. The abbot has decided that it should take place in the monastery's chapter room, which makes it private. Only the monks and guests in the monastery were present.

Chapter room set up for reception of novice. Abbot's chair is at right, novice's in center, monks' around three sides. A couple of the chairs for guests are visible behind the monks' chairs to the left.

When I got to the monastery on Sunday, two of Ryan's classmates were also present as guests, but one had to leave early Monday morning to start his new job. One more classmate arrived during the morning, so the guests were the two classmates and me, and possibly one other man, maybe a professor. The ceremony was at noon. Ryan was given the name Aloysius. It took no more than fifteen minutes altogether, and then we went to the cloister yard for lunch and photos.

 Novice, Brother Aloysius, with Abbot Mark.

 Bro. Aloysius, Abbot Mark, & Novice Master, Fr. Peter.

 

Bro. Aloysius with three abbots: l.-r. Abbot Matthew (1986-2012), Bishop Joseph (Abbot 1972-1986, Bishop of Portland, ME, 1989-2004), Abbot Mark (2012-present).

 Monastic community (missing: three who are at dependent priory in CA, and two who are ill). (Brother Ignatius, who made temporary vows in 2014, is standing sixth from left with window frame around his head.) At left in regular clothes is the classmate who had been there overnight, and at right you can see a bit of the shirt and pants of the classmate who arrived that morning.

I first met Brother Ignatius the evening I arrived for my retreat in June of 2014. He was a novice at the time, and the Abbot called me over to meet him. I've felt a sense of connection with him ever since. He and another novice, Brother Paul, were to take temporary vows on July 11, and I returned for that event, giving each of them an icon of the saint whose name they had received. As I reported, I was very pleased to get a thank you note from him when I came there the following year. Since then, Brother Paul left, but Ignatius has stayed, and I was looking forward to seeing him take final vows during my stay. But when I asked about it on Tuesday evening he said, "Possibly next year." That was  a disappointment. Since final vows usually come three years after temporary vows, the delay indicates that either he or the community or both aren't sure that he should take those permanent vows. On the other hand, at least nobody has yet decided he should leave the monastery. I like him, and the monastery needs monks, so I hope the ultimate decision will be that he stay. But if it's not really the right place for him, then it's best for him not to stay.

This year for my retreat I brought a book titled A Retreat with Therese of Lisieux: Loving Our Way into Holiness, by Elizabeth Ruth Obbard, O.D.C. (The letters indicate that she is a member of the same order of nuns as Therese was: the Discalced Carmelites.) Therese was born in Normandy, in northern France in 1873, joined the Carmelites in 1888, and died in 1897. After her death, autobiographical material she had written was published, and her "little way" of holiness became famous.

The book has seven chapters,  containing things she wrote as well as explanations and reflections by the author. I took two chapters each day Monday through Wednesday, and the final one on Thursday. Some of the points I took from it include the following.

• Holiness isn't achieved by performing religious practices like extra fasting and penances, but by accepting God's love for us.
• The conviction that we are loved frees us from being motivated to follow rules out of fear. Only the knowledge of being loved enables people to respond freely from the heart.
• We need to have confidence in the love that comes from God.
• We have to battle selfishness in order to be free to love Jesus and others.
• We need to be with Jesus in his sufferings.
• Love calls for everything, not just a little bit more.
• Jesus praised Mary for hearing the word of God and keeping it. Most of her life was very ordinary.
• "Let God give and take what he chooses."
• Believe that you are loved absolutely and unconditionally.
• Accept everything as coming from God and thank God for it.
• Overcome obsessions, compulsions, and lack of freedom to do what is good.
• Living in love means giving without measure, banishing all fear, and possessing a great treasure in an earthen vessel.
• Holiness includes a willingness to suffer a great deal.

Apart from that, I had brought some books to read between times of prayer and retreat. Two that I spent several hours on were A Song for Nagasaki about a Japanese doctor who became a Catholic and was in Nagasaki when the atomic bomb exploded and devoted himself to caring for the victims of radiation, and The Myth of the Andalusian Paradise, which debunks the common idea that medieval Spain under Muslim rule was a place where Muslims, Christians, and Jews lived together in one happy community where arts and science flourished— there was slavery, segregation (including self-segregation), and restrictions on women comparable to those in places like Saudi Arabia and Taliban Afghanistan.

It was an enjoyable visit and a worthwhile retreat.

Here are a few more pics, including my room and some campus scenes.

 Section of choir. I usually was near the pillar at the left.

 Statue of St. Anselm in front of Alumni Hall.

 Part of cloister yard.

 Sunrise, seen from the porch of Alumni Hall.

 Blessed Sacrament chapel off nave of church, seen from choir area.

Flowers in cloister yard.

Clicking on pictures enlarges them. I recommend it for clearer view.

Going to Boston; Buying (and Reading) Books; Trump

Boston

At my age, the MBTA (Metropolitan Boston Transit Authority) gives me a discount on traveling on their systems — subway, bus, and commuter rail. At present, the only one I'm using is the subway, which I can ride for $1.10 per trip. They give me a card which I load with money which gets deducted each time I use it. Back in January, the card stopped working, so I had to go get a new one. I liked my picture on the old one better.

Recently, I've become aware of fare jumpers taking advantage of my entry. I tap my card to the target and the gates open. After I go through, somebody follows before the gates close. There's a loud honking sound, which would alert police if they were there. A few weeks ago, four young guys followed me through. When I realized what they had done, I confronted them. I emphatically explained that the system need the fare money to pay the drivers and to maintain the equipment and tracks. When people like them evade paying their fares, it means less funding for the system they're using. They should be ashamed of themselves. Then I stalked away.

If you read my music blog, you know that I went to Boston for symphony concerts on three Thursday evenings in January and another three in February, with the cancellation of the Feb. 9 concert reducing the February count from four. I've attended fewer Harvard Musical Association concerts on Fridays than usual. For one thing, they've scheduled several on Thursdays. For another, the weather was too uninviting on a one or two occasions.

On the one time I did go in on a Friday, I went, as usual, to Scollay Square restaurant. Surprisingly, Wendy the waitress was there and we enjoyed chatting. She told me that Seth, the former waiter, had gotten married last fall and no longer worked there at all.

I also went in twice to see my spiritual director, and once for a Handel and Haydn Society concert on a Sunday afternoon.


Books

Perhaps inspired by hearing about Seth, I finally decided to buy Water for Elephants, which he had recommended to me back in the fall of 2010. I got it for me Kindle and started reading it on my subway rides last week. It's a very engrossing book, and I highly recommend it. Hopefully, I'll still be reading it the next time I get to Scollay Square. It would be nice to be reading the book Seth recommended in the place where he made the recommendation.

And this has put me on a book-buying spree. First, I decided to get three books in the "Hinges of History" series by Thomas Cahill:

• Sailing the Wine-Dark Sea: Why the Greeks Matter,
• Mysteries of the Middle Ages: And the Beginnings of the Modern World, and
• Heretics and Heroes: How Renaissance Artists and Reformation Priests Created our World.

I already had read the first three of the series, How the Irish Saved Civilization, Desire of the Everlasting Hills, and The Gifts of the Jews, years ago, when they were first published. The series is popularized history, but I've found them a nice refresher on things which I had studied back in high school and college. (Minor annoyance: I bought the first three and Sailing the Wine-Dark Sea in hardcover, but I inadvertently ordered the last two in paperback, so they won't match the other on a bookshelf. Oh well. I'm trying to tell myself that the content of the books is more important.)

Then, in my nostalgic "remembering Seth" mood, I decided to check out the other book he had mentioned, The Shadow of the Wind, by Carlos Ruiz Zafón. It looked pretty interesting so I ordered it on Kindle.

Finally, a couple of hours ago, I put in an order for the highly acclaimed Hillbilly Elegy: A Memoir of a Family and Culture in Crisis, by J. D. Vance. Supposedly it helps us understand Trump voters, but I think it sounds worthwhile in its own right.


Trump

Speaking of Trump, he continues to astonish. Every now and then, there is some small event that suggests he's beginning to understand the job of President. His speech to Congress was, apart from the digs at Obama, actually presidential-sounding. It could have been given by a moderate Republican or Democrat, as some commentators have pointed out. But the comes the accusation that Obama wiretapped him. While it is conceivable that Obama could have ordered the FBI or NSA to seek a warrant for such a wiretap, given the denials that were immediately forthcoming it seems unlikely. On the other hand, it seems to go almost without saying that we were spying on the Russians, and if Trump's people were in touch with them, they probably would have showed up.

For Trump to say publicly that he didn't believe the Director of the FBI is shocking. It was also astonishing to hear that he was furious with Jeff Sessions for — properly — recusing himself from any investigation of Russian involvement in the campaigns.

All in all, it seems that he still thinks he should be running everything. He seems to believe what he wants to believe, regardless of the evidence. My hope, and expectation, is that his cabinet and the Republicans in Congress will refuse to let him get away with anything truly unconstitutional and talk him out of anything really unwise. But we should also bear in mind that he was elected on the basis of his campaign promises, so he's entitled to at least try to fulfill those promises.

Five Days at the Monastery

From the afternoon of October 9 to the evening of the 14th I was at St. Anselm Abbey, where I had been on retreat in 2014 and 2015. The daily routine of prayer and meals, which I followed, begins with Vigils at 6:00 a.m., lasting about 45 minutes. Breakfast is at 7:25. On non-school days, Mass is at 8:30, Daytime prayer at 12:00, followed by Lunch, Vespers at 5:35, followed by Dinner and Recreation, with Compline at 7:05. On school days, Mass at 5:15 takes the place of Vespers, and Vespers replaces Compline, which is then prayed privately.



Usually, during lunch and dinner, there is reading, first briefly from scripture and the Rule of St. Benedict, then, for most of the meal, from a “normal” book. While I was there the reading was from The Quartet: Orchestrating the Second American Revolution, by Joseph J. Ellis. It was interesting to listen to, and, despite the author’s clear sympathy for continuing centralization and disdain for “original intent,” I’ll probably buy the book so I can get the rest of the story as he tells it. If so, this will be the second time in three years that I’ve bought the book being read during my visit. In 2014, I heard readings from Bonhoeffer: Pastor, Martyr, Prophet, Spy, by Eric Metaxas, and bought it for myself.



These visits (2014 and 15 and this year) serve several purposes. They function as a retreat, as I focus on a spiritual book I’ve brought to read. They give me a chance to visit with old and new friends. They give me a break from the internet, since I don’t have anything to use to get on line. One reason it’s so long since I’ve blogged here is that I’ve been catching up. In addition, there have been some changes to my daily routine inspired by the visit. (Beyond that, I’ve just been busy.)



In the times between prayer, meals, and recreation, I do a fair amount of reading, both from spiritual books and from other books I bring to read. This year, I brought several small books on the Jubilee Year of Mercy which Pope Francis proclaimed for this year. I finished Celebrating Mercy (on incorporating the jubilee into liturgical actions), read Parables of Mercy, and began Psalms of Mercy. I also found in my room a small book titled A God Who Acts: Recognizing the Hand of God in Suffering and Failure, by Harry Blamires. Even though I don’t think of myself as having suffered or failed very much, i figured I’d see what it had to say. There were some good points. One is that if we’re attempting something good but don’t succeed, it can simply be that God’s providence needs something else. Another is that when we’re grateful for God’s gifts, it’s not enough just to say, “Thank you, thank you, thank you:” God’s gifts are given to us to be used for his purpose.



For my “secular” reading, I had brought a tandem of recent acquisitions: Mohammed and Charlemagne, by Henri Pirenne, published in 1937, and Mohammed and Charlemagne Revisited: The History of a Controversy, by Emmet Scott, published in 2012. Interspersed with my spiritual reading and other doings, I read a bit more than half of the Pirenne book. He argues that Roman civilization didn’t end in the West with the barbarian invasions, with such events as the raids of Atilla or the death of the last western emperor in 476. He presents considerable evidence that Ostrogoths, Visigoths, Vandals, Franks, and other tribes who settled within the boundaries of the empire. adopted the culture and way of life of Rome, looking to Constantinople as the locus of supreme political authority. In his view, it was the Islamic conquest of much of the Middle East, northern Africa, and Iberia which cut off contact between East and West and caused the break with classical civilization which is called the Dark Ages. Unfortunately, Pirenne had only completed his first draft of the book at the time of his death, and, as his son explains, it was his habit to rework such drafts extensively before publishing the book. Although his thesis was important enough to justify the book’s publication, the book suffers from not having had the author’s revision. It seems very disorganized. To me it reads like a succession of note cards collected under various headings. It jumps around from events out of chronological sequence, and I found it difficult going. But I did get through the first part, dealing with the period before the Saracen conquests, and read into the second part, getting the description of the Islamic conquests, with the consequences still to be spelled out.



This is probably long enough for one post. I’ll try to post soon with more: other things I did, interactions with various monks, and the aftermath since I came home.

My Retreat — 2015: Setting the Scene

This year I again went on a five day self-directed retreat at St. Anselm Abbey, similar to the one I took in 2014, and blogged about back then. Like last year, it was also going to be a chance to visit my monk friends. I was there from late afternoon (before Vespers) on Sunday, August 9, through early evening (during Recreation) on Friday, August 14.

The "house schedule" of Vigils and Lauds at 6:00, Breakfast at 7:30, Mass at 8:30, Daytime Prayer at 12:00 followed by Lunch, Vespers at 5:35 followed by Dinner followed by Recreation, and Compline at 7:30 was the same as last year. But my use of the intervening time didn't follow quite the same pattern. For one thing, the book I had brought along to be the guide for my retreat, a retreat with Gerard Manley Hopkins & Hildegard of Bingen: Turning Pain Into Power, was in seven sections and so did not lend itself to neat division among five days. Although I had the idea I'd go through the introductory material on Sunday afternoon and then do three chapters every two days, it didn't work, and I still hadn't finished by the time I left on Friday.

I had brought along other books besides the on that I was basing the retreat on: John Paul II's Theology of the Body, Eric Voegelin's In Search of Order, and one or two more for use in preparing my blogposts about scripture readings at Mass. So I spent some time reading them: John Paul II between breakfast and Mass; Voegelin in the early afternoon.

Unlike last year, I also spent time in the morning reading the Boston Globe in the chapter room. (Unfortunately, they get an early edition, and the results of Red Sox night games weren't in the paper.) I also went to the chapter room to read the Voegelin book. There I'd see Fr. Cecil (pronounced with a short "e"). He had been in charge of the applicants at the monastery for the first 1 1/2 years I was there, so I was pretty well acquainted with him. But on earlier visits he had seemed standoffish. But we had light conversations during the encounters this year, and by the end of my retreat, it felt as if the ice had been broken and he considered himself on good terms with me.

The Abbot was away while I was there, which was unfortunate, since he's one of the ones I know best from my time as an applicant. He was a college student thinking of joining at the time, so there was some interaction. But the monks get two weeks per year to visit family and friends, and he had scheduled his to begin Sunday morning. Sunday evening during recreation I learned that on Monday morning the junior monks I had met last year would leave on Monday morning for five days at Squam Lake. That was disappointing, since I had enjoyed meeting them last year and had been looking forward to further contact. In fact, I had developed something of a crush on one of them.

The Prior of the monastery also happens to be the Junior Master, so he was going with the juniors to the lake. With both the Abbot and the Prior away, the Subprior, Fr. Peter, was in charge from Monday morning to Friday evening. He's a nice guy, and one of two organists in the community. When I arrived at an applicant nearly 50 years ago, he was away at grad school, but when he got back he seemed to develop an instant liking for me, which is still there.

This is long enough. I'll break off here and do another post about what else happened and what I got from the Hopkins & Hildegard book, which was the centerpiece of the retreat.

Christmas (so far) and New Year's Day (with pictures)

As I mentioned in my previous post, my big brother arrived on the evening of December 23 to spend the holidays with me, returning to Boston on January 2. Then he came here for his usual weekend visit, arriving Saturday evening, January 3, and leaving after lunch today (Sunday). It's too bad I don't feel close to him. It could be fun if we were good friends. but even when he's here, we mostly keep to ourselves.

I had put the window candles in place on December 14 (a bit earlier than I usually do), and on Christmas Eve I put a quilt with a Christmas design on one door and a wreath on another one and set out a small Nativity scene. I also put the Christmas tree on the mantel in the living room. They'll probably stay until next Sunday, the Feast of the Baptism of Jesus, which is the official end of Christmastide in the Catholic Church.

The quilt.

Nativity scene.

Christmas tree. We haven't had a full sized tree since my mother died ten years ago. The expense and effort of getting one, decorating it, and then taking it down just seem too much when only the two of us are here, much as I like the way it looked.

Clicking on the pictures should enlarge them.

For Christmas, we exchanged a couple of presents, and there were gifts from our brother and s-i-l in Japan. He gave me a Red Sox wall calendar, as usual, two potholders with music-related designs, and some metal cubes to put in the freezer and use to chill drinks without diluting them. While I think my cocktails are improved by having ice melt in them (up to a point, anyway), the metal cubes could be very useful for insufficiently chilled white wine and soft drinks and maybe substitute for some of the ice in cocktails. I gave him the perennial 12 pack of beer and something or other else (if I remember, I'll tell you). From Japan came long underwear (my request) towels, cherry flavored Dijon mustard, and the book The Lost Art of Finding Our Way, by John Edward Huth. The dust jacket blurb begins, "Long before GPS, Google Earth, and global transit, humans traveled vast distances using only environmental clues and simple instruments. John Huth asks what is lost when modern technology substitutes for our innate capacity to find our way." It sounds fascinating; I'll probably make it my table reading after my current book, The Piano Shop on the Left Bank.

One of my brother's gifts from the Japanese kinfolk was the book Christendom Destroyed: Europe 1517 - 1648, by Mark Greengrass, Emeritus Professor of Early Modern History at the University of Sheffield. The dust jacket has the heading "The revolutionary emergence of a divided Europe in the shadow of Christendom's collapse," and the following blurb begins, "This latest addition to the landmark Penguin History of Europe series is a fascinating study of sixteenth- and seventeenth-century western Europe and the dramatic changes that led to the collapse of Christendom and established the geographical and political frameworks of western Europe as we know it." A few days ago he said he had started reading it, but found it too scattered, not following a strict timeline but jumping chronologically as themes and concepts are developed. So he's leaving it here. I'm looking forward to reading it for two reasons. One is that it may be an interesting companion to Brad Gregory's The Unintended Reformation: How a Religious Revolution Secularized Society. The other is that it can be an interesting thing to read in the run-up to the 400th anniversary of Luther's 95 theses. I also have Mark Noll's book, Is the Reformation Over? 

With those two books, I've got a good deal of good reading to look forward to.

On Christmas Eve I prepared a "Feast of the Two Fishes," as a nod to the southern Italian tradition of the Christmas Eve Feast of the Seven Fishes. I sautéed shrimp and scallops with garlic in a combination of olive oil and butter, and accompanied it with tricolor rotini with alfredo sauce from a jar, and salad. While we were eating it, my brother said, "This is a better dinner than we will have tomorrow [when we were to go to our aunt's]." I was amazed and very pleased, of course.

The dinner on Christmas was roast boneless leg of lamb with potatoes, squash, green beans, mint jelly, and gravy, preceded by cheese and crackers and a nice cream cheese dip, and followed by pumpkin and pecan pies. It was a good meal, but I don't think my brother changed his opinion about which meal was the better. There were six of us there, and while it wasn't a high-spirited gathering, it was a pleasant group to be part of for the five hours we were there.

Continuing the food theme — on the 26th I decided to have a rib roast of beef, something I almost never do. Unfortunately, at the end of the 15-20 minutes at very high temperature, instead of turning the oven down to cooking temperature for the remaining time, I inadvertently turned it off. By the time I noticed my mistake, it was 1 ½ hours later, and dinner was delayed accordingly. Saturday evening we had lobster, Sunday leftover beef. Monday we went to a restaurant, and Tuesday we had leftovers from the restaurant. Unfortunately, the restaurant closed on New Year's Eve. I had been in business for a couple of years. I rarely eat in restaurants other than before concerts and plays in Boston, but this was a good one, and I enjoyed going there for birthdays and similar occasions. Apparently there are too many restaurants around. A lot have come and gone over the years, and this one just never quite caught on, never had the success its quality deserved. Wednesday was similar to Christmas Eve but with just shrimp, no scallops. I wasn't able to find a duck for New Year's Day, so we had to settle for lamb chops. Friday I was on my own and had my familiar baked stuffed haddock. Last night, in honor of Epiphany, I cooked another rib roast, getting the oven temperatures right this time. It came out well, but we ate less than half of it. I had thought when I bough it that my brother might stay through this evening and we could again enjoy leftovers.

At this point, I have about four pounds of leftover roast beef as well as a lobster body, some pork casserole from the Sunday before Christmas, and still some leftover pasta from the restaurant. I can combine the lobster and pasta into a soup for lunch one day, eat the pork thing today for supper, and have leftover beef for three weekday dinners. That will probably still leave one or two meals' worth of beef for later on. It looks as if I won't be spending much for food this week.

The only other event worth mentioning is that we were invited to have eggnog and cookies on Tuesday evening December 30 at the home of the couple who invite us to Thanksgiving dinner. There were eight people there altogether, and it was fairly quiet (we're all over 70) but pleasant company. It's a good thing the eggnog wasn't too strongly alcoholic, since I had to drive home. Among the edibles was some stollen, which was pretty good. Later, it occurred to me that one could speak of the event as "stollen moments."

New Year's eve we stayed home. I think my brother was in bed before midnight (he isn't always), and I was here at my computer when 2015 hit, so I calmly said "Happy New Year." As good Catholics, we went to Mass on January 1 — nothing special after that.

My brother never helps with meal preparation — which is one reason I wanted to go to the restaurant one evening: preparing a full dinner for both of us day after day somehow feels like more of an effort than preparing one for myself on weekdays and for both of us on weekends. But he was very good about doing the dishes after every dinner. Sometimes I'd come to help dry them.

Well, it wasn't a spectacular time really, but with the two gatherings, as well as my brother's presence and the sparse decorations, it was something different from the weekly routines.

A Disappointing Realization and a Good Book

A Disappointing Realization.  For year I've had the custom of putting my sliced mushrooms on a plate of olive oil before broiling them with my steak. As I drained the cooled fat from the broiling pan after cooking my blade steaks and mushrooms a few days ago, it occurred to me — based on the color, the quantity, and the liquidity of said fat — that most of it must be olive oil that had come out of the mushrooms as they cooked. This means that I do not get to ingest most of that nutritious lipid in which I marinate the mushrooms. In future, instead of consigning it to the garbage pail, I'll have to devise ways of reserving it and consuming it (such as pouring it onto my baked potato) so as to gain the health benefits of this not inexpensive oil.


A Good Book.  I've finished reading Struggle Central, by Tom Zuniga, my guest last Sunday night. It's an easy read, certain to resonate with introverts, and perhaps useful for extroverts to help them understand how introverts often feel. Tom's struggle has some specifics that not all introverts share. In my case the major issue seems to have been fear/expectation of rejection. But Tom writes with deep insight into his own feelings, and with a realism that a life without struggle is not to be expected, but as we struggle we can also succeed. In his metaphor, there are peak experiences, at the mountaintop, when we have struggled to reach that summit, but they can't last. We descend into the valley and struggle some more.

I was in group therapy for four years. During that time I became increasingly aware of the program that played in my mind— the one that told me I had been rejected, that I was being rejected, that I was going to be rejected. Gradually I learned not to let that program run all the time, to realize that I'm usually accepted, that the things that felt like being rejected weren't always about me at all. It seems that Tom is aware of the program that runs in his mind and that lies at the base of many of his struggles over the past twenty-five years. That awareness makes it possible to refuse to be overcome by the self-doubts and feelings of inadequacy. It may take more years of struggle, but hopefully with increasing success. Although we're never struggle-free, they can be less overwhelming.

So I recommend the book for anyone who struggles with feelings of isolation or inadequacy, as well as for anyone who wants to understand what it's like to find interacting with others difficult. I got it through my local bookseller; it's also available online.

Tom's Visit

Fellow blogger and tweeter Thomas Mark Zuniga is about six months into his trek (#RunningTo) across the United States and much of Canada. He's been doing it by "couch surfing" and staying with friends. I became aware of him earlier this year, possibly via a retweet or blogpost from Gabriel Blanchard. He seemed an interesting and pleasant person, so I've been following him on Twitter, and I offered to host him if he came to the Boston area. After spending a day or so in Maine, he arrived here about 7:30 p.m. Sunday evening.

My brother was here as well. When I had told him Tom would be here, he thought he would not stay, but he subsequently decided that he would stay here as well. I did some tidying up, so the house was minimally presentable. That Sunday was the Feast of Christ the King in the Catholic calendar, so it merited special food. Tom had agreed to have lobster.

When Tom arrived I had just begun dinner preparations: beginning to heat the water for the lobsters and corn (what you call maize), and putting salad greens in bowls. Tom cut up a tomato, while I began to prepare some crackers and cheese (Brie and Port Salut). In the living room, Tom had some cranberry apple juice, Jim, his usual beer, and I my usual manhattan. We talked mostly about where to park (subway station garage) and what to see in Boston (I recommended Beacon Hill and the Freedom Trail). I gave Tom an official Boston and Cambridge Visitors' Guide. Tom helped shuck the corn. At dinner, we talked about eating lobster, visiting Boston, and Jim and I shared a number of family stories. I hope it was entertaining. If not, at least Tom was polite. When my manhattan was gone, I went for a beer, and Tom decided to try one too. We each had a Spencer Trappist Ale (the only Trappist ale brewed in the United States). He liked it. It's fairly full-bodied, and not bitter. Dessert was coffee ice-cream and cookies.

After dinner, Tom autographed my copy of his book, Struggle Central, which I had just gotten through my local bookseller on Friday. Tom has blogged about it. Although I'm only beginning to read it now, I expect it to be very good

This morning, I got some specific information from the MBTA about fares and parking facilities, which I printed out. I also attached little post-its at places in the Visitors' Guide that I thought would be useful. At breakfast, Tom talked about how he's been able to play for the trip so far, and his plans for the remainder of the trip.

It would have been pleasant for me if Tom could have stayed a day or two longer. I'd have liked to show him around my home town and some of the surrounding area. That was not possible. Tom already had plans to stay overnight Monday with a friend in Cambridge. Then he wanted to see Worcester and Providence (I recommended taking a look at Newport), before heading to Philadelphia for Thanksgiving with his family. Beyond that, even if there had been more time, I've realized that Tom prefers to see places on his own. That's what he's been doing for six months, and that's what he wanted to do in Boston. He'd be happy to have suggestions, but I think he'd rather not have me alongside talking a blue streak about what everything was, and how I had once done something here and something else there.

So he headed off shortly before 9:30, and I trust he's finding enough points of interest in Boston to fill his day. He was a good guest, and I hope my hospitality was satisfactory. Edited to add: I had been planning to suggest that he make himself a sandwich or two to take along for lunch, but it slipped my mind. Hospitality fail.

A Visit from Mark and Other Recent Things

     My friend Mark managed to get a few days off work and came for a visit. His bus arrived on Monday at 1:35 p.m., and departure was on Wednesday evening at 7:40.

     I met him at South Station in Boston, and we had lunch at a bar I'm the station — my first cuban sandwich ever. It was good, but I probably won't be having one every month.He had a vegetarian sandwich which he liked. When we got to my place, I checked the internet for a while. Eventually we got undressed and watched the Red Sox game on TV. Then Mark felt a little cold and "dressed for dinner." Dinner included pork cutlets, marsala style. Mark was tired, having had to get up early for the bus from Syracuse, and went to bed. I stayed up for several hours at my computer.

     The previous week, my Race Committee duties had taken me past Hammond Castle, which I had never visited despite having known of it for over 60 years. It occurred to me that Mark might like to go there too. Also on Cape Ann is a smaller building, Beauport, the Sleeper-McCann House. It's near the retreat house on Eastern Point, Gloucester, where I've gone a couple of times; and I noticed it when I was walking around in the neighborhood. I'd wanted to see it sometime. Mark hadn't seen either place when he was working in Massachusetts and was interested in seeing them. We toured the castle on our own and found it quite impressive. At Beauport we arrived just in time to join a guided tour which was beginning. Although each room was in an early American style, each had a distinctive theme, and the explanations of the tour guide made it more interesting. Afterwards, we agreed that Beauport had been a little more interesting than Hammond Castle, although both are worth seeing.

     For lunch, we headed over to Essex for fried clams at Woodman's, the best known fried clam place in Massachusetts (and perhaps worldwide). They were founded in 1914, and they say their founder invented fried clams in 1916. The clams were quite good, but we were both surprised at the prices — although I must admit I haven't bought fried clams in ages, so I don't know how other places' prices compare. Neither of us had been to Woodman's before. So the whole excursion was a time of firsts for us both.

     Back at home, we got out of our clothes. I showed Mark some music videos I like. Later we settled in front of the TV for the Red Sox game. After the game, Mark felt a bit cold, so he got dressed. He expressed an interest in having some pasta with alfredo sauce, so I cooked some tricolor rotini and boiled some peas and combined them with some alfredo sauce. I also had some leftover london broil steak which I reheated for us.

     On Wednesday, there was another first for both of us: the New England Aquarium. There was a lot to be seen, but with limited time, we did not linger and read all the captions at each of the dozen or more varied habitat displays. The big tank was not as large as I had expected. Our overall conclusion was that it was good but somewhat of a disappointment. Nevertheless, I wouldn't mind going back and spending more time at the small exhibits.

     Then we strolled around for a while and went to the nearby Legal Sea Foods for dinner. Mine was a shrimp, garlic, tomato, and mushroom combination which was large enough to be my dinner on Friday as well. We had left Mark's luggage (backpack and small bag) in my car at the subway station garage. So we had to go back and get them. I went back into Boston with Mark to be sure he would find the way to South Station. Once he was sure of the way, I headed home.

     Mark brought some zucchini bread which he had made, and we both enjoyed it from time to time. I had the last of it after he was gone. It was good by itself, and also with butter and cream cheese.

     It was a very nice visit. In addition to what I've mentioned, we had good conversations about current events and issues as well as about our own doings. If the weather had been warmer and more humid, Mark might have been naked a bit more, but it's not very important. I certainly don't want to pressure him or anybody to be naked, but I think it's nice that we're comfortable enough being naked and being around each other that we're able to indulge our mutual enjoyment of nudity when we feel like it.


     On Friday, I had Race Committee duty. Instead of being on the large "signal boat," I was assigned to duty on one of the mark boats, a 17 foot inflatable "rib craft." It bounced a lot on the waves and required more holding on to something to avoid falling down or being thrown overboard. Today my shoulders and knees are a little sore. I hope it hasn't hastened the approach of arthritis in my knees, which seems to run in my mother's family.

     Last evening I finished Writing on the Wall, by Tom Standage. It was a Christmas gift from my brother in Japan. Standage sees the internet as similar to earlier forms of communication and interaction such as the circular letters of ancient times, pamphlets, and coffeehouses. He contrasts those forms of two-way communication with the one-way forms such as newspapers, radio, and TV, and thinks the two-way forms are better.