Plans Gone Arway

 God's sense of humor is sometimes at my expense.  My plans today included a walk to the library.  Since it's cloudy, I checked the weather forecast.  Rain was not predicted for a couple of hours.  I had plenty of time.

On my walk, I passed by a bird bath.  There was no water in it, yet a little swallow was sitting on its edge.  I thought, not prayed-really, just thought that we could use a little rain.  The second that thought left my brain, rain poured down. Immediately, I thought, Lord, when I request serious needs, You ignore me.  But a thought to You, not even a prayer of petition, and You fulfill it!  Very funny.

I weighed my options: I could continue my walk and get to the library, drenched; I could duck into the church, which was nearby.  I thought the rain may be God's way of getting me into the church, so I went in.

I was on my way to sit in front of the Tabernacle, when I heard my name called.  Two ladies I casually know, were calling me.  They volunteer for St. Vincent de Paul and were working.  By the time, we finished our talk, it had stopped raining. 

It was a short shower.  I never made it to the Tabernacle.

At the library, a good friend, whom I haven't seen in quite a while, called me over.  

My plans never included getting wet.  On the other hand, my plans didn't include the blessings of friends.  

Thanks be to God.

Enjoy the Walking

 I walk for health reasons, not because I enjoy it.  I'd rather be reading in a comfy chair.  However, Neil  King, Jr., American Rambler had me thinking about making a walking pilgrimage. 

His descriptions were beautifully crafted.  I want to see it besides experience it imaginatively.  He also philosophizes as he walks and at one point he realizes that he is privileged.  Privileged to be a white, middle-aged, male.  True.  It's still a man's world.  As a female, I would never walk alone from DC to Manhattan.  If you were a young black man, the police would have been called.  

Many times, Neil visited cemeteries.  Here is a descriptive example of his writing:

You enter a different time when you step into a cemetery.  That mix of finality with our attempts at eternity faintly amuses, seeing how the older the place, the clearer it is that finality wins.  I smiled at the toppled marker that boasted how the beloved buried there would never be forgotten. 

This was a ramble, meaning he wasn't walking a straight path.  He meticulously plotted the cites he wanted to visit and where he would spend the night.  He visit revolutionary battlegrounds, civil war memorabilia, and people.  His descriptions are worth the walk, the time, his, and the reader's.

Multiplication

 One of my hiking groups is from the Senior Center.  Sometimes we're as many as 12 people.  This morning we were six.  At least we started out with six.  

This was the entrance to the Cranberry bog Trail behind the mall, Patriot's Place.  I never gave it a thought before, but we must look funny--a troupe of old people traipsing through the woods.

Once we walked through the cranberry bog, and before we went into the woods, I counted my people.  There was one more.  I counted again.  How did we pick up another person?

As we walked, I walked beside this newcomer and found out that she walked alone but was afraid to walk in the woods.  What if she got lost?  So she saw this group and we looked safe (old people) so sneaked in the middle of the group.

She turned out to be a nice lady.

Walking With Bill

 

                          Yesterday, I posted Billy's poem where he mentions me.  Today, I pay him back!

A quick jump, Bill does make,
Seeing a striking pose by a snake.
Pain and fright, upon his face,
Away from that place, he did race.

Fumbling for phone, take a picture.
But the serpent's gone in a flicker.
It all happened so quickly,
Things do when Billy's with me.

"I wasn't scared," yet he squirmed.
"I was just surprised," Bill affirmed.
"He was a black, huge, thick circle--"
Bill's hand mimicked a huge pickle.

This happened as I saw it,
Bill's version may differ a bit.
I challenge him to respond in rhyme.
A new poem would suit me just fine.

Walking With Joan

 Joan started the Walking Group many, many years ago.  She was always after me to join it.  I couldn't for a long time because I was working.  Now I have no excuse.  But Joan is now 90 years old and a slow walker.  She is always last and every time she talks, she stops. 

She also telephones each person to invite them every week because she doesn't have a computer.  The Walking Group is important to her.

Today, there were eleven of us.  Joan is always last and slow and alone.  We decided that we would take turns walking with her so she wouldn't be alone.  

That's what friends do.  

Here is a picture of some pretty plants from our walk today.

Frogs ?

 

What do you think this noise is?

 

Walk With Faith

We got lost again.  We were following the white trail in Franklin Town Forest of a sudden, the trail became better marked than before--remarkably so.  The faded white paint on trees suddenly became wooded white rectangles.  Following it, we came to Camp Haiastan.  A caretaker saw us and questioned us as to why we were on private property.  After questioning us, he gave us directions.  Laughingly, it was suggested that we name our walking group, "Walking With Faith," (pun is intended).

Gone But Not Forgotten

During the COVID-19 quarantine, I have been walking for exercise.  It may seem strange, but my favorite places to walk are cemeteries.  I find it interesting to walk through the cemeteries in Franklin.

 

 The Union St. cemetery has grave stones from the 1700s.  There are some very recognizable names: 

• ·         Oliver Dean, who founded Dean College
• ·         Fletcher family, there’s a softball field named after the family.
• ·         Ray family, funded Franklin Library -  the first library in the country.

Then there’s the Beaver Street Cemetery.  It is really called St. Mary’s Cemetery because the parishioners of St. Mary’s purchased the land in 1864 because Catholics weren’t allowed to be buried in the Union St. cemetery.  But that was then and this is now.  Now anyone can be buried in either the Union St. or Beaver St. cemetery.  I found it interesting to notice the Irish and Italian names on the St. Mary’s gravestones in contrast to the English names on the Union St. cemetery tombstones. 

Cemeteries hold the history of civilization.  These two cemeteries reflect the mindset of our Puritan ancestors who left England for freedom to practice their own religion and then in turn didn’t practice what they preached.  In St. Mary’s cemetery we see the oldest gravestones engraved with Irish surnames, reflecting the Irish immigrants fleeing the potato famine in the mid-1800s.  Soon overwhelming the Irish names are Italian names.   Names that only Franklinites could pronounce:

• ·         Mucciarone
• ·         Bucchiano
• ·         D’Aniello

St. Mary’s cemetery has a beautiful memorial garden and a columbarium. A columbarium is a wall of vaults containing the cremated remains of the deceased.  It is a peaceful area for respectful reflection. 

               

There’s one more cemetery that is perhaps the most interesting of all, albeit the smallest one.  It is on Green St., Franklin.  The official name is the City Mills Historical Cemetery.  That area is part of the City Mills section of Norfolk/Franklin, hence the name.  Some of the people buried there:

·         Samuel Allen 15 Mar 1778 Franklin, Norfolk, Massachusetts, USA - 14 Jan 1866
Edward Gay Jr 2 Jul 1696 Wrentham, Suffolk, Province of Massachusetts Bay - 28 Feb 1758

·         Timothy Hawes 21 Jul 1722 Wrentham, Suffolk, Province of Massachusetts Bay - 8 Mar 1772

·         Rhoda (Mason) Allen abt 1795 Dedham, Norfolk, Massachusetts, USA - 15 Apr 1862

·         James Shepardson 24 Jul 1789 Wrentham, Norfolk, Massachusetts, United States - 8 Mar 1863 [1]

There are other reasons to enjoy walking in these cemeteries besides historical interest.  There’s the peace and quiet.  The roads are paved so one can wholly concentrate on their reflections.  The epitaphs on the gravestones are interesting and some are funny. (That will be a future story.)  The architecture, material, and choice of design offer imaginative stories about people’s lives.  It certainly makes you wonder what happened between birth date - death date.   Just imagine!  An entire life is represented by a dash! 

Soon many more graves and cremains will be added to our cemeteries, due to the COVID-19 pandemic.  A walk through the cemeteries will put your priorities in order.  What will your legacy be?

---

[1] https://www.wikitree.com/wiki/Category:City_Mills_Historical_Cemetery%2C_Franklin%2C_Massachusetts

Morning Walk

Either before daily morning Mass, or after, I've been walking.  This walking has a dual purpose: exercise and prayer.  I pray a rosary while I walk.  It takes about 15 minutes, which I consider perfect.  My favorite route for walking AND praying is a cemetery.

Walking through the cemetery focuses my praying because I pray for certain names on the grave stones.  Sometimes it's for all the oldest dates of death.  Sometimes it's for children.  Sometime's it's for stones so aged with mold and moss covering them that the engravings are illegible.
 
Today I came across a grave with the inscription above.  I know that's a popular saying to put on grave stones.  At least that what's I've always been told.  But I had never personally seen it.  As I read it this morning, it struck me in a humorously reflective way.  What kind of person would put such a verse to perpetually mark their last words?

Was the deceased angry?  Did he think it was funny?  Then again maybe the deceased had no say in the matter; it was the person (not necessarily the deceased) ordering the grave stone.

What are your thoughts?

An Experiment

Last night, my friend Bert, gave me an experiment to try.  He said that his customary way of walking

was plodding along with his head down.  He was praying and the thought came to him to ask Jesus to accompany him.  So he said, "Jesus walk with me."

The minute he said that his head popped up, involuntarily.  He was surprised.  So he did it again.  And again.  He could not put his head back down after he asked Jesus to walk with him.

He challenged me to do the same.  I will.  Do you want to try it?

Cold is Beautiful

This You Tube video is of riding on  Diamond Hill Reservoir Road in Cumberland, RI.  This is a beautiful place.  The video does not do it justice.  This is just a video of pavement along a small stretch of road going into Diamond Hill Reservoir.  You can't appreciate God's glory looking at pavement--nor man's either.

Today the Trail Hikers walked up this road.  There was a snow storm last week, so we couldn't go into woods.  It's too slippery to walk over ice encrusted rocks.  A walk up a plowed road, with little auto traffic, yet beautiful scenery was perfect.

Hubby was going to come, but when this morning's temperature said that it was 6 degrees, he said "Are you crazy?"

Crazy included eight of us, this morning: two men, and six women.  We were dressed for the Arctic.  I was fine.  My buff kept my face warm.  Two mittens and a pair of gloves kept my hands warm.  My jacket and pants were appropriate.  The only complaint I have, is that my toes froze.  Next time, I'm getting toe warmers to put in my boots.

We spent some time trying to figure out what a couple of birds were: a blue bird and a gold finch.

I bet the man videotaping this video didn't see any birds.

What a Bunch of Turkeys!

My friends and I were aiming to walk three miles in an hour.  We would have done it too, were it not for Peggy stopping and pointing to someone's lawn.

It was dusk, so the light wasn't too good.

Are those turkeys?

What?

There on the lawn.

No, I think they're Canadian geese


So we stared for a while.  Those turkeys/geese never moved.  Then someone walked out of the house, and right by them.  Those turkeys/geese still never moved.

Duh!  Those are lawn ornaments!

The Spirit is willing...

Easy meditation today: I was watching my 10 month old granddaughter.  She's an expert crawler.  A good stander.  But the balance between the two haven't connected yet.  In other words, she's not walking.

She wants to.  You can see that she really, really wants to walk into your arms.  She'd love to please you and clap with everybody.  Hooray!

She wants to -- her spirit is willing.

But her physical body just can't.

The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak.

Like everyone else, she'll have to keep trying.

Walking

OK. I can take a hint. I walked with a new person, tonight. Marianne doesn't join the group that often, but she came tonight. We walked around the Common about a zillion times. We didn't want to walk far because a thunder storm was threatening.

Marianne told me that her husband died 10 years ago. It was like Linda's death, and Father Angelo's. All died within weeks of being diagnosed with cancer. It's worth pondering the fragility of life.

So....if all things have a purpose, then what was the purpose of my meeting Marianne tonight and listening to her story? I think her husband needs prayers.

He's added to my Novena for the Souls in Purgatory.

BTW, we walked for an hour and it never did break out into a thunderstorm.

The Last Walk

We have a walking program at work. It's some sort of "wellness" initiative. These programs always begin with a lot of people and then peter down to just a few. That's exactly what happened this time.

At first we walked around the gym, which we got tired of, then, we walked the corridors, and finally when the nice weather came, we walked outside. We did this for about half an hour.

We concluded with some Pilates. Since I do Pilates, anyway, this was my favorite part.

Anyway, today was the last session. We stop for the summer, or rather the instructor takes the summer off. She said to continue throughout the summer, without her.

Yeah, right.

St. Mary's Evening Walkers

Yesterday in the church bulletin, I saw a blurb about "St. Mary's Evening Walkers." Those that are interested walk an hour, which comes to about three miles. Tonight there were four of us.

I liked it. The time went fast because we chatted and walked.

That walk brought my pedometer up over 11,000 steps.

Alleluia!