No slush in the sandals this week, and of the mouse, more in a moment. Briefly then, the latest news from the kitchen-on-the-hill: Inside, the boilers continue to behave and all is cosy. Then, as if that wasn’t warming enough we had the pleasure of Herath and his family on Sunday; followed yesterday by Namtip, Noi and Aree.
(mouse photograph courtesy of
Whilst I think of the others in the warmth of
Even less welcoming, are the new ‘no parking’ signs outside the building, which being low-to-the-ground have a distinctly “keep off the grass” feel to them. On Sunday night, from my hidey-hole, I could tell by the dithering headlights that they were creating a response. And actually, we don’t like them either (their being a necessary evil to help relations with our neighbours), though the walk from the car park no doubt has some compensatory health benefits – if you don’t slip on the slush.
You might be thinking this has nothing to do with the kitchen. But then again, if you arrived with a sack of potatoes you might not. Not that I’m suggesting we’re short of potatoes, merely that you might not want to carry them up the lane (not in the slush anyway). Here’s a simple suggestion: unload without socialising, then move your car down to the car park ….Ah, now we’re looking forward to your visit!
If you do come, you’ll realise you’re not the only ones refraining from social interaction. Everything here is quiet. Not even the whisper of a mouse. Which must mean the larder is full.
Down in the stores though, I hear they’re chewing through plastic for want of:
As for us, thank you, but we have plenty of fruit and vegetables, toothbrushes, salt, biscuits, instant coffee, tea, towels, soap and rice.
Earlier this week the wise old bird and two fledglings flew the nest on a westerly wind. Since then the wind and rain haven’t stopped pouring over the hill, whilst inside the monastery everything is strangely quiet. It’s left a weird atmosphere around the place; the eclectic mix of characters trying to find their different ways into solitude; the turbulence outside; the bereft interior. Down in the kitchen, the Wednesday offering of food from Namtip together with Noi, Aree and Linda was a familiar and welcome point of reference; on Thursday we had the likeable company of Tilak and his friend; and tomorrow Mame and Maureen are here once again to offer food in memory of Jeff Pick. All of which has meant a lull in culinary work for Radek and I. In my own case that’s shown up a tendency to migrate toward the office in an effort to clear the decks and open some space for the next couple of months. I find I am not alone there; though neither is there much sign of the two seniors, suggesting they’re more quickly into the swing of things – attuning themselves to a wind that blows where and how it pleases. We are grateful for the generosity which makes that possible; which means we have enough in the larder to more than keep us alive (though the odd jar of honey helps toward sweetening as well).
Down at the stores they’re well provided for too, though the following might be helpful:
· Fire wood
· Surgical Spirit B.P.
· Man size tissues
· Limescale remover
· Dust-masks
Thank you also but we have plenty of fruit and vegetables, toothbrushes, salt, coffee, towels, soap and rice.
2006 in the monastery closed with elemental style. On New Years Eve wind howled across the roof of the Dhamma hall, and broke the clouds to reveal the odd star and a waxing moon that illuminated the lane. For a monastery, it was a wildly romantic night. But there was beauty inside too, as people offered up their aspirations and wrestled with fire in their wish to forgive and to be forgiven. In the days before and the days after we had many lovely guests; green-fingered and earthy, fiery or fluid; poetic – they waxed and waned with the moon, leaving their quiet absence with us as we enter the winter retreat.
They are not the only ones to leave us. In the coming week Ajahn Munindo, Tan Hiriko and our one-and-only Richard (now radiant in white) leave for
…John Bower, for example. John, whose day job is cataloguing criminals, will over the next couple of months be cataloguing our books as well. When he’s finished they’ll be transferred to the new library in the retreat house; the one that featured last week. So, if any of you have books or CDs outstanding and wish to avoid having your own arm twisted, please return them asap. And whilst you’re at it, you are, as usual, invited to consider (in response to requests from supporters of the monastery) that whilst the larders’ needs are few, the following would still be helpful:
Down at the stores, I hear they still/now would appreciate:
And, conferring, it seems that your generosity now means we have plenty of:
