Peach Party

This is an actual photo of the convent's old kitchen, located in the older, original part of the building. Even before I entered in 1958, a new Annex was built with a newer kitchen. Both kitchens were used throughout the time I was in the convent and are still in use today. In fact, this was taken in the past month and looks exactly as it did when I participated in the community "parties", as those work sessions were referred to in my book.

Visiting

Things most of us take for granted, I couldn't. It was a little like lockdown in a jail. We were only allowed visitors once a month--and then only with family. And if your family lived four hundred miles away, you had to survive on a once a year visit. That's what my mom did. Left all the kids home with Dad and traveled the whole way to see me for a couple days. And then I didn't get to eat with her. She ate in the Guest Dining room by herself, while I ate in silence with my group in another. It felt very abnormal. I hated leaving Mom to herself after she'd driven four hundred miles to see me. For overnight, she had to get a motel room in the town three miles away. Very inhospitable. Obviously, I've never quite gotten over it.

Levels of Heaven

I used to watch Saturday Night Live and died laughing at the comedian who played an Italian Priest. This uTube video is an absolute crackup. Especially for Catholics. Levels of Heaven

Work! Work! Work!

Besides spending endless hours in prayer, it wasn't just my imagination that we were overworked in the convent. Naively,  I thought I left hard labor behind when I left home at age fifteen. Mom expected a fair share of work out of each of us kids, but didn't make us dust and mop the same floors every single day. Whether they needed it or not. Nor did she interrupt every chore by ringing a bell and making us go pray either. I was basically lazy as a teenager, and would have preferred sitting around reading and listening to music, but was no slouch. I pitched in and did my best. However, the rigorous work ethic of the  nuns was another story. So I describe in chapter nine.

Stall

Just when I was whipping along, feeling a writing momentum, I got stalled. First, a Fourth of July preparations for a party at out house. Then pulling weeds, watering new trees, and trimming the bushes. Too many distractions. Not to mention my low energy for the past week. Not to worry. I've gone to see my Herbalist and came home with a bunch of herbs and an eating program that should get me back to my ordinarily energetic self in a hurry. In the meantime, I'm lollygagging around and reading. The Shipping News is keeping me buried on the couch. Something I was never allowed to do in the convent. Spending long periods of time on the couch reading. I savor the privilege now.

Pregnant

Last night I dreamed I was pregnant. The silly thing was that in my dream I was as distant from menopause as I am in my waking life. Yet I felt the swell of my unborn child.

When I shared my dream with Sue this morning, we both laughed. Except that, in the minute I asked what it could mean aloud, the answer came. My book! My unborn baby is my gestating book. I can only hope that I'll be giving birth to it in nine months or less. Yippety-skippety doo-dah!

Nun Doll

Before I forget, the nun doll featured on this page is one of several I've created. For years I was deeply immersed in the craft of cloth doll-making. Besides sewing dolls from other folks' patterns, I made five of my own from scratch. The nun doll pattern was by far the most popular. She became the focus of several classes I taught and a pattern I sold online for years. After having given away most of my dolls, I've hung on to two of my nun dolls. Nostalgia?

A Good Question

I went to the convent to find God. At least that's what I thought I was doing. God seemed pretty darned elusive to me at age fifteen. Nearly impossible to please too, according to the list of rules I'd been given that were supposedly from him. A demanding list of Thou Shalts and Thou Shalt Nots. If I thought I could please my parents, God was another story. What did he want from me? According to Catholic teachings, the best a girl could do when I was young was to become a nun. Okay. A tall order, but that's what I would set out to do.

The first chapters of the book begins with my leaving home.