Category Archives: Favorites

#422: Summer Sushi

Summertime is perfect for a Sushi party.
Lots of company to help prepare, and consume.
Cousin Tim preps the shrimp for tempura.
 Jaime turns garden veggies into sushi slivers.
Rory dips garden veggies into beer batter.
David teaches Dylan how to make sashimi.
Nice job, Dylan.

Emily keeps the fish sushi separate from the veggie ones.
Emily’s perfect roll,
done on cardboard,
no bamboo mat needed.
Tobias, Justine and Carol on the production line.
12 cups of rice!

It takes a village

to make sushi.

 The table is set.

The village gathers.
Give thanks to God for the generous sea and garden.
And dig in.

the Wasabi Challenge.

#222: Sinking Sand

I live on an island.
Our topsoil is one inch deep, so I know lots about sand.
But it wasn’t until this past Sunday that I 
understood the sand referred to in the hymn,
The Solid Rock or, as originally titled:
The Immutable Basis of a Sinner’s Hope.
I had always pictured ‘sinking sand’
 as being like beach sand. Slippery, pulling out from under your feet
by the waves:
Or giving way, like the side of a dune:
Like at Dionis, where you always have to slide down or jump.
The hymnist’s sinking sand is more like this:
On Christ the solid rock I stand
All other ground is sinking sand,
all other ground is sinking sand.

#220: Labor Day Farewell Picnic

Every year on Labor Day our family and friends go 
to Brant Point for a picnic.
The rose hips are nearly ready for jelly-making.
We pack an awesome meal
(ie: shrimp, homegrown potato salad, our own carrots,
and pickles and sun tea, and
Ghiradelli brownies for dessert)
then skip some rocks as we wait for the 
Last Labor Day slow boat.
When we hear the old Nobska whistle 
(Click to hear it) we get ready:
Then we wave like mad and shout good-bye as the boat passes:
 A joyful ending to another glorious summer.
See you in the Spring…

#214: Sermon Haiku 12: John 11

This week’s haiku is for Will Brown,
 a local kid, only 7 years old who drowned
last Monday at Steps Beach.
We long for the day when there will be no more death.
‘Lazarus is dead.’
Jesus said,’I will wake him.’
But you said he’s dead!
Lazarus’ sisters:
Lord, if only you’d been here,
he’d still be alive.
Headed to the tomb
Jesus wept for their sorrow
Raging against death
He is Lord of life
Death can’t hold out against Him
‘Roll away the stone’
‘Lazarus, come out!’
Lazarus follows the voice
blinded by cloth wraps.
Take off the grave clothes
I am the Resurrection,
Hear my cry, and live.

194: Sermon Haiku 10-Luke 10:The Good Samaritan

Sweet Mister Rogers,
Had a house in Madaket
He was our neighbor
All kinds of neighbors
Some end up like family
Others, not so much
A conversation between a scribe, an expert in the Law, 
and Jesus:
I know what God wants:
Love Him heart, soul, strength and mind
Love my neighbor, too.
You nailed it just right.
Good for you. Now, go do it.
Wait! Who qualifies?
A man on the road
Naked, beaten, half-dead
Will you pass him by?
Samaritan won’t.
Last one you’d expect to help.
A shocking hero.
That’s what God expects
Become one small, perfect piece
Placed by God Himself

#136:Sermon Haiku #2- 1 Corinthians

Pastor Rich is away this week so Bob gave the message. 
It was on I Corinthians 1:26-31. Here’s the Haiku:
Ideal follower

Outgoing and confident

Not by God’s standards

God chooses the weaklings
the despised ones, the lowly
to shame the mighty
In-grown believer
Focused on my own weakness
I deny His power
God has a purpose
He is stronger than man’s strength
Just open your eyes
Thanks, Bob.

#131: Broody Hens

We have a mixed flock of hens. Two dozen mostly Americana, a Brahma, a leftover Rhode Island Red, a few Salmon Faverolles. One of our Salmons, Sadie, has gone broody. Broody hens are a pain in the…collecting hand, as they peck. She is entirely unwilling to Give Up Any Eggs.

 Here she is, guarding:
She was sitting on seventeen eggs this morning.
 Then frantically tucking them back under her wings
 as I pushed her aside to gather.
The sad part is, as we don’t have a rooster, the eggs would never hatch.
How many projects am I sitting on which will,
 as it were, never hatch.
It’s time to quit pecking the hand of God
 (which hurts Him probably as much as Sadie hurts me)
and tucking things back under my wings.

#127: Sermon Haiku #1- Psalm 23

Apologies to Pastor Rich in advance. So, remember how I have trouble paying attention? After teaching Sunday School I can be a tad scattered when Pastor Rich starts his sermon. So, to focus my mind, I write haikus as he’s speaking. On the sermon topic. You can see me counting syllables as he talks. Today’s sermon was on the 23rd Psalm:

The Lord, my shepherd
Without Him I am helpless
Just a little sheep
God, the great shepherd
A companion to His own
Stay right next to Me
Thy rod and Thy staff
Provision and protection
God walks alongside
Here, in His presence
Calm waters and green pastures
Soul restoration
God’s rescue cuts deep
Turning my heart back to Him
In the end, delight
Walking through valleys
Too dark to see, He stays close
Eternally light
God spreads His banquet
Offering love and kindness
To those on the run
Accusers cry out
God hears as He pours the wine
My cup overflows
Even as I fall
My shepherd holds out His hand
Returning me home

Codfish Fertilizer

My husband has a fish market. Every spring gardeners come by to ask for fish racks (what’s left after fillets are removed) for their gardens. Excellent long-term fertilizer. He’s always glad to give them out. This year I asked for some as I’m putting in a Three Sisters Garden. It’s a traditional Indian garden of corn, beans and squash planted together. Squanto taught the Pilgrims to plant a fish head under each hill. Like this:

Bucket of codfish racks–one rack per hole:

Place in hole using non-Indian tongs.
There ya go.
Cover up the fish and plant four seeds of corn in each hill–
one to each of the compass directions.
Water the whole shebang and wait. God does things in His time,
not mine. When the corn is up, I can plant the beans, then the squash.

Naughty or Nice?

Just today one of David’s customers drove up with the license plate on the left. He’d just seen the one on the right and told her about it. Of course, they had to get the two cars together:

Classic. Gotta love New Yorkers.