Hiking!

My husband and I went hiking last Saturday. To those who know us, this may seem a little odd--we are not known to be the outdoorsy type. Hiking is a relatively new thing for us, at least in our adult lives. My husband was a boy scout as a child and went on lots of hikes and camping trips, and I participated in a fair number of short hikes and camp-outs myself as a kid. But I haven't walked more than a few feet into a forest in the last six or eight years, and my husband about the same.

On Memorial Day, we thought it would be fun to rent some bicycles and ride up and down the broad paved path that runs along the beach in Santa Monica. We didn't realize that the entire population of Los Angeles County also wanted to go to the beach that day. In despair of finding parking, we abandoned our beach plans and decided to go a bit further up the road to Topanga State Park. That was gleefully uncrowded, and we hiked about a mile and a half on a circular trail--quite enough for a warm day.

We liked it. A lot. So we made plans to hike again. This time we drove up to Angeles National Forest. I have to admit, I always laughed about Angeles National Forest, because the only part of it I had seen was the part that you drive through on Highway 5, which has no trees. Lots of little scrubby shrubs, but nothing more than four feet tall. "Angeles National Forest?" I'd say, "What, exactly, makes it a forest?"



Well, there are plenty of trees further east. We paid $5 for a daily parking pass (cutely called an "Adventure Pass"), and found the entrance to the Switzer picnic area--not as easy as it sounds, because the mountains were shrouded in a heavy fog and we couldn't see more than ten feet in front of us.


See? Fog! In June!


We parked the car and hopped out, with our little backpack in tow. (We didn't have a backpack before, so I'd made a quick trip to K-Mart and bought the cheapest one they had--it is now the only thing we own with a sports team's logo on it.)

The hike is about 4.5 miles round trip. My husband tried to tell me it was 6 miles, but I looked it up when we got home and it's 4.5. A lot of it is up- and down-hill, though, so it feels like 6 miles! The waterfall at the end isn't spectacular, but it's very pretty, and a nice little payoff for the trip.


We're a little out of shape, and were both sore the next day, but it was a fun trip and I'm sure we'll go hiking again soon. Exercise is a lot more fun when there are pretty trees to look at and streams to pick your way across.

Sweet Cherry Cobbler


Summer, for me anyway, always brings thoughts of summer fruit. I buy apples, oranges, bananas and grapes all year long, but cherries can only be had at my local grocery store during the summer. It's just as well, because although I love fresh cherries, I hate pitting them. I probably wouldn't buy them very often even if they could be had all year round.

Last week I bought a bag of fresh cherries. We had some with ice cream the first day, and I had some on my cereal the next morning. I was staying with my parents and grandfather, and though they happily ate the cherries I pitted, no one else was eating the cherries unless I served them. Cherries are a fragile fruit and don't keep for very long--if any of them are bruised they are likely to get moldy, and mold spreads quickly. So by the third day of the cherries sitting in the fridge, less than half of them eaten, I began to get worried and decided to take drastic action--time to bake!

I made the following cobbler, and it turned out so well that I decided to make it again today (fortunately, we in Los Angeles have something called "June Gloom," meaning that it is cloudy and cool for most of the day for a good portion of the summer--perfect for summer baking).


Preheat the oven to 350 degrees F.

Filling:
1-1 1/2 lbs fresh sweet cherries (I used Bing cherries), pitted
4 tablespoons of sugar (or your preferred sweetener, to taste)
1 teaspoon cinnamon
1 teaspoon ground cloves
1/2 teaspoon orange pips or 1 teaspoon orange juice
2 teaspoons brandy (grand marnier or rum would also work)

Mix all ingredients in a bowl until the cherries all appear to have a bit of the liquid and spices on them. You can use more sugar if you like it sweeter, but cherries are naturally fairly sweet and I prefer to let the fruit speak for itself. A lot of people will pour a mixture of cornstarch and water over the fruit in a cobbler, so that the fruit juice thickens into a nice sauce, and I sometimes do this. It wasn't necessary for the cherries though--they were fine on their own.

Coat the inside of a medium-sized shallow baking dish with butter. Yes, use butter; unless you have a serious health problem that precludes it, life is too short to use Pam Spray or shortening or whatever in your baking. It doesn't taste the same.

Pour the cherry mixture into the buttered baking dish.

Topping:

I am lazy, and do not like to make cobbler topping from scratch if I don't have to. I generally use some kind of pancake or general baking mix. For this one I used Bisquick. You can substitute any baking mix you think will work.

1 1/2 cups Bisquick
1 teaspoon cinnamon
1 tablespoon orange juice
Some milk--I didn't actually measure it (yay for intuitive cooks, huh?). Slowly alternate adding milk and stirring until the mixture is slightly on the runny side but doesn't immediately drip off the spoon. It should be about the consistency of pancake or waffle batter--runnier than biscuit dough, but thick enough not to run down into the filling too much.

Stir in a bowl until all ingredients are blended. It might be slightly lumpy--this is ok. Pour the contents into the baking dish on top of the cherry mixture. Don't worry if a few cherries stick up through the topping, or if the topping doesn't quite cover the cherries around the edge of the baking dish.

Bake at 350 degrees F for about 40 minutes, or until the topping is cooked through and slightly brown on top. Serves 8.

Happy Birthday, G.K. Chesterton!

Fun fact: fantasy/science fiction authors Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman dedicated their collaborative novel "Good Omens" to the memory of Chesterton. (I haven't read "Good Omens" but I've read many of Pratchett's "Discworld" novels and do recommend them--most of them are even suitable for young teens, which is more than can be said for many science fiction/fantasy novels written in the last 20 or so years.)

Celebrate Chesterton's birthday. Have a beer, read something witty, become a distributist (join a guild! or form one!).

Kudos Msgr. Parnassus, Again

The regular cantor for the 5:30 Saturday Mass suffered a car break-down in Santa Barbara yesterday morning, so I was called in to sub. I always have a funny experience subbing for that Mass. I don't feel the freedom to choose my own repertoire that I feel for the Sunday Mass, because I have to work with an organist I don't know very well and the congregation's expectations. But I love hearing Msgr. Parnassus's homilies. Yesterday he talked about Obama at Notre Dame. The basic gist of it was that the President's views are not in line with Catholic teaching, he should not be honored, the President of Notre Dame is willfully disregarding the (totally appropriate) recommendations of dozens of bishops, and if we as Catholics compromise our beliefs for the sake of political correctness, then when Judgment comes, we will be found wanting.

He actually said that, "will be found wanting."

I love Msgr. Parnassus. I don't know if he's always been this way, or if there's something about being old and frail that makes you unafraid to speak the truth. He has been looking pretty frail lately, using a walker instead of his more usual cane. Please pray that he lives a good long while yet, and that he continues to be able to walk far enough and stand long enough to say Mass. We need him desperately.

Msgr. Murphy is pretty cool, too. He told us last week that since the Friday-night EF High Mass went so well a couple of weeks ago, he wants to have an EF Missa Cantata at some point in the future at the time of our regularly-scheduled Sunday evening Mass. Our choir would be super excited to sing for that, and I think that congregation would respond well. They seem to be a flexible group, with fairly marked traditional inclinations.

Last night at Mass, we prayed during the general intercessions for Msgr. Murphy's aunt, who is very ill (possibly dying). Pray that if God chooses to take her soon, that her death will be full of grace and peace.

Semester is Over

It's probably time to talk a little bit about how my semester went. I re-took my M.A. comprehensive exams. I did well enough last year that the professors would allow me to leave with an M.A., but the exams also serve as screening for PhD candidates, and they thought I wasn't ready for PhD work. So I asked to take the exam again, and this time they said they were pleased with my work and thought I was ready to go forward to PhD work.

I had three classes this semester: a survey of music in the 19th century, a course on Renaissance performance practice, and a seminar on postmodernism and concert music. The Renaissance class was relatively easy for me, since I've done a fair amount of coursework in that area before with both that professor and her husband (they have similar teaching styles). The 19th century stuff was kind of hard for me because I'm not fond of symphonic music, and the Romantic sentimentality gets on my nerves after a while. The postmodernism course was also difficult, because at first I was unfamiliar with the vocabulary of postmodernism, and later because it prompted a lot of self-searching about how I am and am not postmodern. I think the problem is that I like a lot of the aesthetic end-products of postmodernism, but I don't agree with the ideology that leads to them. That might be a post for some other day.

The semester is over now. It was unusually stressful. Difficult classes, the comprehensive exams, being sick and having my car in the shop, and then the loss of my grandmother. As I told my dad yesterday, I feel like I've been through the forge. But I also have a greater sense of accomplishment than I ever remember feeling at the end of a school year, and that's good.

I only have one more year of course work to go, then it's all dissertation. We might move out of Los Angeles then. My parents have been helping us, but probably won't be able to help anymore after next school year, and unless we get better jobs we won't be able to afford living in L.A. Too bad--we really like our parish, and are not likely to find another place where we can direct our own choir and have so much leeway to do the music we like. But I think my husband won't miss the warm weather, and neither of us will miss the traffic and the roads that so badly need repair.

THE NEW STAR TREK MOVIE IS AWESOME

...and if J.J. Abrams made a series with this cast, with this close feel to the Original Series, I would be a very happy bunny.

But the timeline stuff is threatening to make my head explode.

Music for the Funeral of M.M.B. Fitzgibbons, Sts. Peter and Paul Parish

Introit: Requiem aeternam
Psalm: Chabanel setting, with refrain "Though I walk in the valley of darkness, I fear no evil, for you are with me."
Alleluia: to the tune of "O Filii et Filiae"
Offertory: Ave Maria (Rheinberger)
Sanctus and Agnus Dei: Requiem Mass (chant)
Communion: Pie Jesu (Fauré)
Recessional: In paradisum


There was no organ in the church, so my husband played the piano for the things that were accompanied. We got a lot of compliments afterwards. I was just happy that I managed not to cry. Crying makes singing very difficult, and I think my grandmother would rather that I sang for her than cried. I did almost break down once, though, when I saw my grandfather covering his face with his hands. My uncle and aunt and cousins cried a lot, but my mother and I are not really the crying sort when it comes to funerals. I think it may be because we know that though my grandmother is gone from us, her existence hasn't ended, and we have the hope of seeing her again someday. My uncle and his family are agnostics or atheists, and don't really believe in an afterlife as far as I know, so to them this is truly the end. I grieve, but grief is overshadowed by hope in the Resurrection.

Christ is risen!

Sadness in Joy

A damper has been put on my Easter joy. My mother called to tell me that my grandmother passed away this afternoon. It was not unexpected; she had been ill and steadily declining for the last two months. I have no fears for her in the afterlife, as she had been receiving the Eucharist almost daily since she'd been in the hospital, and had the Anointing of the Sick about a week ago. I am sad for two of my cousins who had not seen her since Christmas, and for my grandfather. He is a fairly resilient person, cheerful and outgoing by nature, and he is in good health and has many friends and activities to keep him going. Still, they were married for more than sixty years, and he is 89 years old. The transition to living by himself will be difficult and lonely.

Please keep in your prayers the repose of the soul of my grandmother, Margaret Mary Barnett Fitzgibbons, and the consolation of her widower, Kenneth.

Christos Voskrese!



My husband and I are lucky to live within 20 miles of one of the few Russian Catholic parishes in the country. We've been going to Vespers there on Saturday evenings occasionally, and decided that we really wanted to spend Pascha there. Last night we went to the Easter Vigil at our parish, which was somewhat abbreviated because our pastor is old and does not have much stamina. Afterward, we brought five of our friends with us down to St. Andrew's in El Segundo. We got there a bit late--they'd already read the whole of the Acts of the Apostles beginning at 10p.m., had Nocturnes at 11:30, and were partway into the procession at the beginning of Matins when we arrived.

We stood through Matins. The choir sang continuously, and the three priests took turns incensing the altar, the icons, the congregation, and each other, and proclaiming "Christ is risen!" to which we all enthusiastically responded "Indeed, He is risen!" They also said "Christos voskrese!" and "Christos anesti!" Occasionally, one would say "Cristo ha recucitado!" or give the greeting in another language which I did not recognize (given that the church building is shared by a Melkite community, it might have been Arabic)--but these occasioned some giggles because no one knew the response. It didn't matter.

At the end of Matins, we all kissed the crucifix, the icon of the Resurrection, the Gospel book, the priests, and each other. The Russians kiss three times--right cheek, left, then right again. "Christ is risen!" "Indeed He is risen!" Kiss, kiss, kiss. "Happy Easter!" "Christos voskrese!" "Voistinu voskrese!" Kiss, kiss, kiss. "Blessed Pascha!"

Then Divine Liturgy began, and things were a little more serious and subdued...until we all broke out again into "Christ is risen from the dead, trampling down death by death, and upon those in the graves bestowing life!" Finally, we have nearly reached the climax to which we have been building: "I believe, O Lord, and confess that Thou art truly the Son of God, who came into the world to save sinners, of whom I am the first...of Thy Mystical Supper, accept me as a communicant, for I will not speak of Thee to Thine enemies, nor will I give Thee a kiss as did Judas..."

Then, of course, after singing "Christ is risen" about a dozen more times, the Pascha baskets are blessed and we eat! The food is good, and the company is better. I'm half afraid that we'll lose some of the Romans we brought with us to the Russians, but it's all good--we're all Catholic. My head hit my pillow at about 5:15 this morning, which might be the latest I've ever stayed out. My poor husband had to be at the Methodist church at 9:45 this morning, but he didn't seem too fussed as he went out the door (although he put on the same shirt and tie he wore last night, instead of the shirt I spent 20 minutes ironing yesterday).

I didn't have a very good Lent this year, but despite that, I really feel the Easter joy. As they said at Liturgy last night (this morning?), let those who came at the first hour rejoice, and those who came at the sixth and the ninth, and those who did not keep the fast--let all rejoice.

Tonight we go back to our Roman parish for dinner in the church hall--those of us who can't get together with family will celebrate with friends. A little bird tells me that there will be a bishop and a cardinal (not from our diocese) dining in the rectory with our two beloved monsignors. I'd better dress up, in case they decide to look in on us.

Now I must run along and pick up my lamb shanks from Whole Foods, so they'll have enough time in the crock pot with the cherries and onions before dinner time.

Sad Events, and Reflections Prompted by Them

Please remember in your prayers two elderly ladies of my parish who died recently, and the men who are responsible for their deaths. One lady died of her injuries after being struck by a car while walking to church. The driver fled the scene, but was later caught; hit-and-run is a very serious crime, and he will likely spend time in prison for it. The other lady was killed by her brother, who is mentally ill. The brother is aware of his actions, though probably not culpable. This is very difficult for the lady's children and friends.

Please pray also for a man named Charles who has left the Church. My husband and I met Charles at a Bible study group last fall. We ultimately stopped going to the Bible study, partly because of the long drive to get there, partly because our needs for socialization with other Catholics were now being met by people we attend Mass with, and partly because of Charles. He had an obviously Protestant view of Scripture, verging on sola scriptura, and virtually every meeting of the group included an argument with Charles, whose insistence on reading Scripture without recourse to the Catechism or the writings of saints and orthodox theologians was both annoying and disturbing to the rest of us. I am a little sorry that we did not try harder to help him see the importance of Tradition, but he was very insistent on his view, and I am not sure that it is possible to change his heart at this point. We were not surprised when friends who still attend the Bible study told us that Charles was now going to a Baptist church, but we are saddened that a soul has moved further away from Christ and the truth.

This prompted me to think about a few things. My husband and I have decided that disaster preparation would be a good thing, since we live in a big city in an earthquake zone, and you just never know. We're slowly assembling our disaster kits with food, water, a good sturdy knife, and various other useful things (we will be sure to follow Sam Gamgee's advice and bring rope, as well). I have been thinking that, if there is room, I ought to have one book in my pack. I suspect that many of the people I know, if asked which single book they would want with them in a disaster scenario, would answer that they'd bring either a Bible or the Catechism of the Catholic Church. These are good answers. I, on the other hand, would bring my Liber Usualis.

Yes, I know, it's all in Latin and my Latin is rather poor. But I have gone through the liturgical year twenty-four times now, and I remember the texts of the Mass well enough to recognize them in Latin and know what they mean, even if I couldn't provide an exact translation. I should probably also get an up-to-date Liber, since mine, which I got for free, is from the 1930s, rather than being for the Extraordinary Form as it currently stands.

Still, it is more important for me to have access to the liturgy of the Church than scripture or doctrine. The Mass and Divine Office contain enough scripture to get me through, and I learned as much of the Catechism as I need for daily life when I was a kid. If I were flung into a circumstance where I might not be able to attend Mass or receive the sacraments for an indeterminate amount of time, I would desire the connection to the Church's liturgical life that praying the Divine Office and reading the texts of the Mass would bring.