Eleventh Plague of Harnham

…And the Lord spake unto the Milanese, Go to Harnham, and say unto them, Thus saith the Lord, Let Cesare go, that he may serve his patients. But Harnham hearkened not unto them; as the Lord had said.

…And so the Lord said unto the Milanese, stretch out thy rod and smite the compost bin of the land, that it may become flies throughout all of Harnham; and the flies came up and covered the land of Harnham.

…And at Harnham they could harden their hearts no longer; and they cried unto the Lord, because of the flies which he had brought against them; and they gathered together the compost and the land stank.

…And Harnham called for Cesare in haste; and said, “we have sinned against the Milanese and against you; Go, ye, and serve your patients.” And he went; and a strong wind took away the compost bin and cast it in the Municipal Sea; and for three days there was a thick darkness.

...And when the darkness passed, the Lord said unto the cook, Where is Cesare thy brother? And he said, I know not, Am I my brothers keeper? But he hung his head in shame, for his burnt offerings could not compare with all the glories his brother had brought amongst them.

…Then the people of the land cried out, asking how they also could bring such glories in that land of plenty, and he spake unto them in low and grateful tones of the fruits of the land:

• milk and honey
• tahini
• fruit
• wood for wood-burning stoves

...and of the hand:

• normal 2nd class stamps
• high value stamps: £1 and above
• earplugs (for sleep not work)

...and of their lack of want for olive oil and toothbrushes, towels and coffee, tea bags and pasta, lentils and biscuits, spices and cakes.

Sit on your Cushion

Last Friday I left the chefs toque on the peg and took the chauffeurs cap instead: It was Nick and Penny’s house-blessing at their sunny and spacious new place, away through the lanes in Longhorsley. This Tuesday coming, with another house-blessing in Redcar, I might need it again. But meanwhile, sandwiched in-between, the community is on silent retreat: No guests; an empty week; the demands of the kitchen light and shared. It sounds blissful. It can be blissful. But the art of ‘doing nothing’ is not easily mastered. And so, this week, as well as indulging some of my usual distractions, I found myself chewing over Ajahn Munindo’s Hilltop request for a Buddhist equivalent to ‘Trust in God and keep your gunpowder dry.’ He suggested it might begin ‘Sit on your cushion and………’ So, to get the ball rolling here’s a few possibilities that sprang to mind:

‘Sit on your cushion and update your Firewall’
or
‘Sit on your cushion and weigh your lawyer wisely’
or
‘Sit on your cushion and trust in the Bupa.’

That last one kept me going for quite a while, until I bored of resting on my own self-amused, self-congratulatory laurels, and decided we needed a quote themed for the kitchen. The best I could do was ‘Sit on your cushion and keep your larder stocked.’ Not very good, but perhaps you could help us with it nonetheless, the following items being gratefully received:

• red lentils
• honey
• cheese
  
• onions
• fruit
• tahini
• long-life semi-skimmed milk
• decaff tea

The storesmaster, rising from his cushion tomorrow, would also appreciate:

• wood for wood-burning stoves
• normal 2nd class stamps
• high value stamps: £1 and above
• ecover cleaning materials
• earplugs (for when our guests return)

And thanks too but we've plenty of olive oil, cakes and biscuits, toothbrushes and towels, instant coffee, pasta and spices.

Energy in Spades

With the A-level results out yesterday, our young neighbours threw a hilltop party and at 5 this morning they were still going strong as the rest of us creaked into action. For better or worse none of us got an invite and Anagarika Chris curbed his gatecrashing impulses, but by breakfast this morning it was becoming apparent what an interesting effect it had had on the dream-lives of some community members – plenty of life left in the dancing shoes of those hearts.

…In the case of our resident green-keeper however, you don’t have to look that deep for signs of life. He’s got energy in spades. Like the one he lent our Italian friend last week, as well as his new, narrow, slightly-angled planting tool you see in the photo. It proved an indispensable piece of kit this week; for whilst Cesare turned his light touch to the raw materials in the kitchen, Anagarika David and his minions at the sewage works, used it to plant 350 reeds for refining the final product.

Meantime, the rest of us were variously picking up threads of work, planning projects, looking after new guests and in my own case (along with the washing machine) reeling from the retreat. Downstairs, the larder also briefly felt the pinch, but by now has regained its usual state of plenitude - without compromising in expansiveness. Therefore, it could still gratefully accommodate the following items…

• onions
• fruit
• tahini
  
• juice
• decaff tea

As the stores could these ones:

• wood for wood-burning stoves
• normal 2nd class stamps
• high value stamps: £1 and above
• ecover cleaning materials
• ear plugs
• travel alarm clocks for retreat house

Thanks also but we've plenty of salad items, olive oil, instant coffee, honey, pasta, lentils, spices, cakes and biscuits.

Inglenook Maestros

The retreat that was impending last week is today nearing its close. Outside, we’re into our fifth day of sunshine, contrary to my pessimistic predictions; and also those of our Italian friend who dug a protective moat for his tent in the manicured lawn of the walled garden: When our resident greenkeeper finds out, ‘il signor’ could be the first casualty of the week.

That is, if you don’t count the spectacular demise of the best porcelain cups (which shattered yesterday’s silence and for which I offer further apologies to Meme and Drew); or the following list of minor battle wounds thus far accrued:

One sprained shoulder (yoga teacher)
One twisted ankle (yoga student?)
One bee sting to the nose
One case of constipation (set free with prunes)
One case of earache (unrelated to the comfort of the new Dhamma seat)
Numerous minor kitchen burns.

…This last item being the small price our retreat chefs have paid for their phenomenal performance; competently and harmoniously flowing around each other in our inglenook of a kitchen, to conjure dishes fit for forty kings and queens. Bravissimo!

How did they do it, you ask? With the following ingredients, which are now in short supply and would be gratefully recieved:

• fruit
• green vegetables
• eggs
• juice
• tahini
• herbal teas
• dark chocolate

Whilst down at the stores the following would also be appreciated:

• wood for wood-burning stoves
• normal 2nd class stamps
• higher value stamps (£1 and above)
• toilet, surface and cream cleaners
• toilet roll

Thanks too but we've plenty of olive oil, toothbrushes and towels, instant coffee, regular tea, honey, spices, cakes and biscuits.

The Rolling Stones

Rolling stones gather no moss. That’s how life in the monastery feels just now. Moving, moving, moving, we’ve reached our peak velocity for the annual round; the impending quiet stop of the retreat not yet here. The weather too seems in its usual state of flux, with the sunshine brought by our Italian friends (perhaps in a special suitcase, like the cheeses) also moving quickly on.

As I remember it, this current pace began last weekend. Friday and Saturday, folks racked their brains in trust and committee meetings. Sunday, we were inundated by the generosity of the Thai community who turned up to celebrate Asalha Puja and the beginning of the Vassa. Whilst down at the Retreat House, our friend Martin (stonemason, dyker, all-round-good-guy and poetic artisan of the solid stuff) put his finishing touches to a new wall, before co-ordinating the palaeolithic efforts seen in the photo. Whether we’ll be painting that stone with porridge I don’t know. But if so, Kath’s new trolley (no she’s not the dolly) now makes it easier to take the porridge to the stone, than the stone to the porridge.

Today the big news is Abramina’s departure. We miss her already. But she didn’t leave us empty-handed; instead, a sack of presents and a long list of retreat house recommendations. God bless her left(L) and right(R) woollen socks – she is irreplaceable. The literal gap she leaves will, however, be quickly filled as the rest of the 30 retreatants arrive today and tomorrow. I’m glad I’m not cooking. For those that are, the following might be helpful, even after yesterday’s mammoth shop:

• fresh juice
• tahini
• dark chocolate
• herbal teas
  

And in the stores:

• wood for wood-burning stoves
• kitchen sponges
• ordinary 2nd class stamps
• high value stamps (£1 and above)
  

Thanks also but we’ve got plenty of most other things.