Some similarities between Quakers and Zen

Quakers (aka the Religious Society of Friends) stand at one end of the Christian spectrum, while Zen Buddhists also stand at one end of the Buddhist spectrum.

As I’ve been discovering, Greek Orthodox (and the other Eastern Orthodox churches) stand at the other end of the Christian spectrum, much as Tibetans do in the Buddhist world.

Has me recalling a comment by Gary Snyder when he noted, arms outstretched, how one branch starts at one end and, as a practitioner advances – raising his arms in an arch overhead – they eventually pass each other to end up at the opposite end.

That said, let’s look at the Quaker/Zen starting point and what they have in common.

  1. An ethereal ascetic. Strip away distractions, down to a stark black-white dichotomy. Maybe with distinctive Quaker dove gray.
  2. They’re both minimalist.
  3. Use of questions to guide aspirants. Queries, for Friends. Koans, in one branch of Zen. No easy answers, in either.
  4. Worship as “just sitting.” OK, few Quakers focus on their breathing and most are sloppier in the posture. Even so …
  5. Emphasis on the here-and-now, rather than the afterlife.
  6. Concentration on daily practice and awareness.
  7. A practical outlook. As they teach in Zen, “Before enlightenment, chop firewood, carry water. After enlightenment, chop firewood, carry water.”
  8. Direct personal experience focusing on the inner self. As in experimental, by trial and error.
  9. Sin is not discussed. Well, among Quakers, rarely, as in “missing the mark” rather than a human defect.
  10. Both originated as reform movements and are open-ended.

Traits I deplore in others

  1. Cheating.
  2. Lying. (Well, dishonesty covers both.)
  3. Inconsideration. Pushiness, too.
  4. Being a blowhard. Show me, don’t tell.
  5. Ostentation.
  6. Bossiness.
  7. Presumption of superiority. Not just an air.
  8. Whininess. Stop complaining, OK?
  9. Neglect of their children. (Just go to the supermarket for examples.)
  10. Violence. Verbal or physical.

~*~

As for you?

Ten dream moves in our new project

As the inspector said, the house has good bones. And as others have confirmed, the place feels good.

If I were living here solo, it would be too big for my needs. The second-floor could be reserved essentially for guests in season.

For two of us, both working from home, that second-floor would definitely come into play, and adding a daughter and son-in-law to the mix, even as frequent visitors, makes for yet one more set of calculations.

So here’s what we’re looking at on the horizon:

  1. Raise the roof into extended dormers across the second floor, plus an addition over the mudroom.
  2. Get heat for the second floor.
  3. Grade and better define the parking area.
  4. Install a wood stove or fireplace in the main parlor.
  5. Redo the old bathroom, moving doorway to the hallway rather than the dining room.
  6. Add an upstairs bathroom.
  7. Add small butler pantry between kitchen and dining room and move washer-dryer to second floor.
  8. Remove the ramp to the back door and move back entrance in the mudroom.
  9. Add a deck – we do miss the Smoking Garden – and implement a garden design – one that’s smaller but deer-proof.
  10. Enlarge the front porch.

It sounds like a lot, but we’re finding it exciting. We did just as much in Dover, only piecemeal.

Qualities I most like in a woman

In no particular order:

  1. Sensuality.
  2. Unconventional beauty. Think of waking up and opening your eyes in the morning and this is the first thing you see.
  3. Grace.
  4. Playfulness. Which I also sense as a dimension of creativity, which enlivens me.
  5. Scent.
  6. Intelligence. Extending to curiosity and an artistic awareness, in my mind.
  7. Understanding.
  8. Cleanliness.
  9. Self-control.
  10. Peacefulness.

~*~

Well, that’s what’s first coming to mind …

As for you?

 

Some house maintenance that remains to be done

Good luck to the new owners. They’ll have their plate full. As I’ve said, we bought the place as a fixer-upper, and two decades later, after a lot of big work, it’s still a fixer-upper.

  1. The roof, again. If they’re really ambitious, they’ll go for standing seam rather than asphalt shingles.
  2. Replace the upstairs windows. Winter gets cold.
  3. Paint the exterior. We had a tradesman lined up, but he backed out after his wife died.
  4. Scrape and paint the hallway. Caulk the floor, too.
  5. Repaint the floors. The interior rooms could also use refreshing.
  6. Retackle the mother-in-law apartment. When we added it when we first moved in, it was the nicest room we had. But a two-pack-a-day habit took a toll.
  7. Downstairs toilet. Minor, but annoying.
  8. Regrade and repave the driveway.
  9. Minor landscaping issues, but they add up. I’d start by felling the trees next to the house.
  10. Improve the insulation. Seriously.

According to some owners, a boat is a hole in the water where you pour endless amounts of money.

In the same vein, an old house is a hole in the ground where you pour endless amounts of money.

 

Ten big things to tackle right away in our new project

The Cape we bought was listed as circa 1865, but from some of the detailing, we’re guessing it was more likely around 1835. A bird’s-eye view map from the 1835 shows a house on this site, though maybe not this one.

Many potential buyers passed on the place, for whatever reasons. It is definitely a fixer-upper, but it feels good, and we like its in-town, close-to-the-ocean location.

One chimney was in peril of collapse, and it’s already been removed. The fuel-oil tank had to be replaced. Also done.

We’re looking at the work ahead in two stages.

The first, of course, is more essential. The second, renovating the place more for our dreams.

Not that I especially wanted another This Old House kind of series, but this time we think we can tackle the project more comprehensively, rather than piecemeal.

Here’s what’s on our plate as soon as possible:

  1. Insulate exterior walls.
  2. Repair foundation and cellar. Work from the bottom up.
  3. Level the flooring.
  4. Rewire, to accommodate more electronics and appliances, especially, and add grounded outlets.
  5. Replace windows.
  6. Straighten and fix gutters.
  7. Touch up and repaint exterior trim.
  8. Add a garden shed. We really miss our barn and need more storage space.
  9. Remove the old fireplace iron insert (now sitting in the middle of a room) and the big wood cookstove.
  10. Remodel and update kitchen.

 

What I don’t like about gardening

If you’re still on the fence about breaking some sod and scattering seeds or selecting six-packs of young plants, think about this.

  1. Gardening is time-consuming. There’s a lot to do before planting and harvesting. Even before and after. Wouldn’t you rather be doing something else?
  2. Heartbreaking. There’s always a sacrificial crop each year. You never know which one it will be.
  3. Demands weeding. And more weeding. Especially if you’re largely organic. They’re back in a flourish overnight.
  4. Messy. You have to have someplace out of sight to hide all the pots and bags you’ve pulled out of the shed or garage. As for those weeds you uprooted? They get thrown somewhere.
  5. Debris-producing. You can’t compost it all, especially the woody stuff. And, yes, you can put that in those big brown-paper bags and haul them to the dump, or you can find somewhere to establish a brush pile. And then, at some point, you’ve got to do something with that brush pile before it requires a building permit.
  6. Anxiety-producing. Just listen to my wife watching the weather report or me anticipating the water bill when we’re having to water intensely through a dry spell. And that’s before hailstorms or frost warnings or …
  7. Unforgiving. For example, when a crop arrives, it’s often a flood that must be picked pronto or spoil. And just picking it isn’t enough. You can’t eat it all, so somebody has to can or freeze it. Now! Before it starts rotting or wilts.
  8. A magnet for invaders. Birds, picking out sees and later berries. Slimy garden slugs, taking bites out of anything fleshy, like strawberries and tomatoes, or greens. Squirrels digging mindlessly, often planting walnuts as they go, which then sprout into stinky treelets with tenacious roots. Woodchucks, which can devour a row of their choice overnight. (See item 2.)
  9. Costly. Those bags of potting soil and additives and pesticides (even organic) add up, as do the flats of seedlings, even once you’re past the round of catalogue orders at the beginning of the year. As I was saying about the water bill?
  10. Let’s not overlook replacing broken tools. Or lost ones.

~*~

Well, all those benefits do come at a price. Best you know now!

Fellow planters, be frank. What other downsides would you acknowledge?

 

Some facts related to Prairie Depot

My novel Nearly Canaan starts off in a railroad crossing called Prairie Depot. It’s imaginary, of course, a blend of several small cities I’ve encountered. But, for the record, let’s say this.

  1. It was a dozen or so miles from the nearest Interstate Highway.
  2. It sat in what had been the Great Black Swamp that covered roughly 1,500 square miles before being drained to open up some of the best farmland in the world … and some of the flattest, stretching for miles.
  3. There really were some surviving patches of original prairie nearby, as well as new reservations harboring restoration. The ecosystem had reached westward to the Rocky Mountains, especially in a broad swath through much of the Midwest.
  4. Five different railroads once interconnected in the town. It could lead to frequent delays for drivers and pedestrians alike, as well as interrupted sleep.
  5. It was also a good place for grain elevator dealers to ship from.
  6. The real center of town was a small restaurant owned and operated by two brothers and their wives.Back to the novel!
  7. The town library had a translucent marble exterior wall and a fine collection, thanks to a resourceful director who managed to deflect criticism. He could be a fictional character all in his own.
  8. The region was the scene of a big oil boom, back in the early 1900s. Petroleum was still being pumped at the time of the novel, on a smaller scale, though the grade was lower grade than the market desired.
  9. The place was best known for its collectible glass, before the company relocated to West Virginia, where the name lives on, if not the quality, at least in the estimation of some.
  10. The most celebrated resident dwelt quietly on a shaded side street, her secrecy preserved by the locals, even though she was rumored to have been gangster Al Capone’s mistress. Yes, the one.
The astringent Greek Temple Revival appearance of Omar Chapel, in Seneca County, Ohio, not far from the prompt for Prairie Depot in my novel Nearly Canaan, continues to haunt me. It says so much about the dreams of its benefactor, out on what was then still frontier.

 

What I like about gardening

Candidly, I’m not the gardener in our household, but I still have to pitch in with the work. Let me look on the bright side. Plus, when it comes to dining, I definitely enjoy the benefits.

  1. There’s less grass to mow, thanks to the beds that take up at least half of what would have otherwise been lawn.
  2. The sequence of blossoms and produce give me a heightened seasonal awareness. Every week is different, from mid-March as far as mid-November, in the progression of blossoms .
  3. The selections and placement of plants reveals my wife’s mind with its shifting palate of color. She designs English-style clumps, unlike my straight rows. Yes, it really can be a feast for the eyes, even as we look out from our windows.
  4. Asparagus, in a permanent bed, is a delight to cut and eat almost immediately each day through the month of May. It’s the first of our you-can’t-buy-it-this-fresh revelations and reminds me of my years of living in the Yakima Valley of Washington state, where it sprouted like a weed. There, our goal was to sate our taste buds for the coming year. Besides, the delicate ferns are stunning foliage all summer.
  5. Fresh greens. Salads, especially.
  6. Berries, starting with strawberries and extending into blueberries and raspberries. We also have a bank of currants.
  7. Real tomatoes, not the poor substitute you find at the supermarket. We always raise a variety of sizes and shapes, and you’d be surprised how much their flavor varies. One year, I think we had 14 different kinds. Nothing surpasses a tomato and mayo sandwich every day through August and much of September. The king of France should have been envious. You can forget the bacon or even lettuce, as far as I’m concerned, they detract from the star attraction. Again, it’s enjoy it while it’s so gloriously available. (We also freeze a lot for deep winter – the soup, especially, can be heavenly while you watch the snow fall.)
  8. Weeding, which I’d normally avoid, has become a quick means to collect food for the rabbits, which they so greedily and efficiently compost.
  9. Which brings up composting, a lesson in patience and the importance of worms, as I feel virtuous in turning what would have otherwise gone to the landfill into a miracle mixture that’s revived much of our property from what my wife termed “dead dirt” into something soft, pliant, and fertile.
  10. Hummingbirds. They make their rounds through everything flowering, but you have to be alert to see them. Sometimes they’re even right behind your back.

~*~

Well, gardening does also serve as an item of conversation.

What would you add?

Ten big renovation and maintenance projects we did

In absolute numbers, I suppose you could say we lived in the place for free, once you compare what we paid for the place and added as renovations against the selling price two decades later, but I’m not sure that would hold up if we factored in inflation or what we might have earned if we’d placed much of that money in the stock market.

Even so, here’s some of what we had done:

  1. Reshingled the roof.
  2. Lined the chimney. And then the other.
  3. Replaced the cracked boiler.
  4. Saved the barn from collapse, created a mother-in-law apartment, later removed the second-floor deck from the house to the loft, and wired the loft.
  5. Replaced the downstairs windows.
  6. Remodeled the kitchen.
  7. Remodeled the upstairs bathroom.
  8. Restored the downstairs bathroom as more of a utility room and added a kitchen pantry.
  9. Replaced the sump pump, this time sunken into the floor.
  10. Replaced the rotten bulkhead with steel.

And that’s not counting all the garden beds and plantings or tree work.