Mt. Athos

I've spent some time today learning about a place new to me, Mt. Athos. New to me, but very, very old.

Mt. Athos is a Greek Orthodox holy mountain, an entire peninsula in fact, in northern Greece.

Its many monasteries are ancient and beautiful, hauntingly so.

Some are like fortresses.
See the three fingers/peninsulas, sticking out into the Aegean Sea, in northern Greece? The one on the far right is Mt. Athos.

 It is dotted with monasteries. No one but Greek Orthodox monks lives on this entire peninsula.

The monks have vineyards.

 They harvest grapes and olives, among other crops. The monks live virtually self-sufficient.

However, the emphasis always, all day, every day, is prayer, meditation, and being close to Christ.

Life in these monasteries has changed very little in 1000 years.
They eat fish but no meat.
They sleep only about 3 hours each night.
They worship about 8 hours each day.
They have no days off, nor vacations.
They almost never leave the peninsula. They do not want to.
They eat two meals each day, quickly.
They are generally very healthy and long-lived.
They follow the Julian calendar, and keep their clocks according to Byzantine time, meaning one day goes from sunset to sunset.
It is extremely difficult to be admitted as a monk here. Many apply and few are chosen.
Unfortunately, no women are ever allowed on the peninsula. Even female livestock are excluded, although they have cats, and they keep hens for their eggs.

I would love to see such a place. I know their goal must be (among others) to live a life as close as possible to the one we will enjoy on the New Earth -- what a noble objective! But their disallowing of women shows that they live each day with the knowledge that they are fallen -- easily tempted and distracted from their holy tasks. I understand the rule; it's a good one. Still, it's sad. I should go hunting for a women's monastery instead. That would be fun to visit!
Here's a 60 Minutes episode about Mt. Athos that is fascinating to watch:

Of Elephants and Old Friends

I posted once before about a family friend, Carroll Karlak. Carroll is an artist, an excellent one. My mother, her dear friend, has given me several of her paintings, including a small one of elephants. It's my favorite.

Julia loves it too, and now that she's painting, she wanted to do her own watercolor version of Carroll's elephants.

Carroll's elephants are noble, serious beasts.

Julia took Carroll's painting to her art class on Wednesday to give it a try. Here's what she did.

She made her own color choices, a bit bolder than Carroll's. Fewer elephants too, but she only had 90 minutes to do this watercolor. And her elephants are more whimsical and funny, less serious and noble. And she's not (yet) the fine artist that Carroll is.

But I do love Julia's elephants' little faces -- so cute!

I'm sure Carroll is thrilled to know that her artwork is still inspiring young artists. She always took a particular interest in my life, in my mother's children's lives. I don't think she ever met Julia. Carroll left this old world quite a few years ago, and God took her to His own world. I reminded Julia what Jesus said once, that God is the God of the living, not the dead. God is Carroll's God, which means she is alive; she's just somewhere else. Won't she and Julia have fun painting together, for eternity? No rush, no deadlines. And perhaps the animals -- the tigers and elephants and giraffes -- (Carroll loved painting animals) will stand still for them!

Thank you, Carroll. You continue to bless us.

Repairing the Mainsail

Adam asked me to repair our mainsail. Some of the stitching had come out on one corner. He washed the sail and brought it inside.

The sail company logo:

You can see above, where I put in new stitching. My stitches are a little shinier and go toward the left.
After I did a first row of stitches, I put on some sail tape. Technically, you put the tape on first and just stitch over it. But I wanted to be sure the layers of sail on this spot (there were about 8, I think), stayed aligned and together. So I sewed them together first, and then applied the sail tape --

Then I sewed it again. During the first line of stitching, I could use the old holes, inserting my thick need with nylon thread into them. But after applying the tape, I could no longer see the holes. So pushing the needle through on this second run, was harder. I had to use a thimble to force the needle through all those layers of sail.
On our sailing adventure Monday, I took a picture of my repair, doing its job!

In the Middle of Winter --

These photos are from Sunday, when Adam went to garden and I went along to relax.

The sky was big, bright, blue.

As I told you before, the sailors were out on the river. They know a perfect day when they see one.

While Adam planted spring veggie seeds, Sandy and I went for a walk in this quietly, strangely silent spot.

On the river, the wind can be brutal, and trees must be hearty to survive. Many are broken by hurricanes.

Sandy's a good walking partner, always eager.

From a distance, the large nest in the top of this tree stands out.

An eagle's nest? I don't know. It's very large.

A tracing of veins in the winter sky lets you know that Nature is still alive, even in this cold.

Here's the garden where Adam is planting. He's filled just one of these raised beds. He might do a second one. It was put in for the residential development that will eventually be built here, if the economy ever recovers.

After our walk, Sandy and I lay in the grass next to a small lake.
By the way, when's the last time you lay in the grass, unhurried, gazed into the sky, closed your eyes, let the sun caress you into drowsiness? We do this when we're young, but we forget when we're old. Such utter relaxation drives away care. It's important to be in the grass, not in a chair.

I hope we have more days like this in the middle of winter.

Round One of the Art Contest

On Sunday, Julia's art was on display at the local Woman's Club. They have a local competition, from which the winners proceed to the district and then state competitions. Julia had some blue ribbons!

She submitted her flying paper cranes.

My favorite one did not get a blue, but that means I have it back home, in my bedroom where I can enjoy it again.

She still enjoys drawing with pencil.

Her one oil:

I'll keep you posted about how she does at the next level.

Sailing Is Unpredictable

Yesterday on a walk, I noted many sailboats dotting the Neuse. I was wistful, and decided that we should attempt a sailing day today.

The wind must have been fabulous yesterday, and thus the sailors were on the water. Today, the wind was not as cooperative. Adam wanted to try out his new sculling oar (well, the bottom half of it). We didn't borrow an outboard motor. We took along two other boat oars, and put our noses into the light breeze.

 Wind - ha. It was a L O N G paddle. Mostly, Adam rowed, and Julia rowed some. I steered at the tiller. The sculling oar was not useful. Adam determined that he will, with renewed effort, dismantle and repair our outboard motor. One hour and 15 minutes after we left our home marina, we finally went under the bridge and into the open water.

 When the wind picked up (only a tiny bit) Julia moved to the front and basked in the warm sun. She's surrounded by the foresail, which wasn't up yet.

 When we did put up the foresail, we got a bit more wind and we toodled along. We tacked back and forth, and I hunted for puffs of wind to fill the sails. At one point the boom swung over and smacked me in the forehead. Adam felt bad about that.

 But we had the entire afternoon, nowhere to go, no hurry. Who cares if there's big wind or no wind? A gorgeous day of sun and water made it all worthwhile.

 We sat for so long that we finally stood up, needing a stretch. We never made it to Oriental #1 marker. Finally the boat herself seemed to tell us, "Turn around, guys!" so we did. There was somewhat better wind going back.

I wanted to stretch my legs, so I stood up front, and Adam gave Julia the tiller. As soon as he did, the wind picked up. I steered us under the bridge and then Julia took the tiller back again. As we headed home, the wind was almost lively. Julia began to enjoy herself. "I am drunk with power!!" she said gleefully. So funny. She really enjoyed steering and getting the feel of the tiller and how the wind works in the sails. Call it an educational experience!

We decided that, as long as the wind was so good, we might as well continue on, so we headed up Green Creek. As I said, the wind was unpredictable. At one point, a vigorous gust of wind blew into our sails, and the boat heeled over to the right as I tried to fill the sails. It was fun, and I felt us lean. The water is very close when you're tilted like that. But the amount of wind force and sail pressure was too much. The outhaul rigging on the boom broke with the pressure, the mainsail went crazy, the boom yanked up, and we all hollered. I released the tiller so the boat would line up, but it was a scary moment. Or as Julia said, "That was fun!" Yeah. We dipped low enough that my seat was awash with river water. That was chilly.

Here's a photo from Google of what the outhaul rigging looks like -- a little, important piece of rope.

We came about and Adam examined the damage, which was small. We bought a new piece of rope to replace the outhaul, as soon as we got back into town. We took down some sail and crept quietly back into our slip in the marina, glad to be done for the day.

All that to say ... sailing is unpredictable. A day with no wind can, in a second, become a day with too much wind, especially if you have a weak piece of rope.

Neighborhood Nosiness

Isn't it fun to watch houses being built or repaired? Watching our neighbors mess with their homes is highly entertaining. If you're lucky enough to live in a neighborhood that's in development, you don't even need a TV. Just go nose around in your neighbors' building sites.
Here's a house near us that's getting a redo:

An amazing house -- just on the other side of the big bridge. It sits right on the river, which might sound nice, but around here we all know what that means:  it gets smashed by every hurricane that comes along.

Hurricane Irene did a doozy on this poor home. I love the red roof and shutters. It's a fabulous location on the water, with lots of space. A showcase house, you might say. A house everyone notices, and wonders, "Ooooo! Who lives there?"

Well, nobody was living there because the pitiful place was decimated by Irene. A massive dumpster had taken up residence in the yard for months. Then a few weeks ago, I noticed that they were removing the roof. "How sad," I thought.  "They're finally giving up and dismantling it altogether."  But then I noticed some studs, and some plywood, and a wall went up, and then more walls. What you see now is TWO ADDITIONAL FLOORS being added to the main structure of the house.

What in the world?  (Don't you love figuring out what craziness your neighbors' are up to, with their houses?)

Are they adding bedrooms? Turning it into a B&B? Setting up an observatory?  If this house previously had a big "HIT ME" sign on it during hurricane season, two more floors up there will only make it worse.

I can't wait to see what develops. Even Town Dock, our local nosy online reporter, hasn't muttered a whisper about the house.  I'll let you know when I find out!