Beautiful +Maya, the photogenic feline

She looks like this, lying on her side with a paw over her nose and her fuzzy tummy showing, but she's under the desk lamp right now, snoozing on the wooden desk next to me.

I really need to start taking pictures again.

I tried out the camera on my new BlackBerry (free when I joined up with CREDO Mobile) and its first picture (if you don't count the two accidental ones) was this. Speaking of fuzzy.



+Maya Pavlova is still the most beautiful cat on the planet. And soft! Must be the organic cat food.

Tintin movies!?

Spielberg is making a Tintin movie. As is some other American filmmaker. Who knew? Apparently previews of the Spielberg film, at least in the form of stills, will be shown at the forthcoming Angoulême festival. That's the big annual comics festival in France. Angoulême is a small city northeast of Bordeaux. The English occupied it briefly in the 14th century.

Bo update, with a beagle bonus

Indulge me: I've had a long week and it's only Wednesday.

The Telegraph (U.K.) has a nice Bo story with the history and sociology of presidential dogs. You know you want to read it.

HuffPo's Dr. Patricia Fitzgerald write about all the benefits of living with a dog. You may know most of this, but you probably haven't seen the cute dog photo accompanying this article.

Meanwhile, a few days ago, Max the fabulous beagle, who lives with double-blogger PeaceBang, wrote his friends a letter.

This here is Ermengarde, PeaceBang's cat, and that is Max the Beagle.

And now you have a Bo source: yes, a blog of Bo with all the latest news and all manner of ridiculousness. Not sure who writes it; the blogger's e-mail only says "Moira." Has the first Bo cartoon (this next one is funnier), the side-splitting Jon Stewart piece on Bo and a fab photo of Michelle Obama walking the dog. (Good: she looked tired in the other photos and I started worrying about her. Seriously.)

Okay, now we've really gone over the top.

+Maya is going to be jealous. I promise I will take photos of her in the next few days. I finally bought a roll of film the other day. I was completely out of film for a couple of months.

Jasper weighs in

Speaking of the post below this one...

Our friend Jasper has a few things to say over at his human Doxy's blog.

Also, the pictures are beyond adorable. (Sorry, Bo, you're very cute and I love your family, but my heart belongs to Jasper. And +Rowan. And my +Maya. Oh, okay, and you too. I have a big heart.)

Her Grace wants to know...

...Why didn't you make +Clumber's Virginia Whiskey Cake at the holidays this year?

Quote of the day

It was a lovely day at All Saints. Baptism in the morning, Gathering of the Clan All Saints in the afternoon -- that's what they call their Annual Meeting there. (Reminder: I am at All Saints three Sundays a months and home at St. Mary's House one Sunday a month till May or so.) Potluck supper, election of vestry members, informal conversational reports on various areas of mission and ministry, and a bit of prayer. Not your long boring Annual Meeting.

In the spirit of Clan All Saints (someone or several someones have some Scots in them) there was a tartan theme, and lo and behold, there was a bagpiper. He was good, too. And he wore the kilt well. He's a parishioner of recent vintage, about two years, and I think this may have been his first time playing at the annual gathering, because All Saints' rector, thanking him formally (as formally as it gets there), expressed delight that All Saints now had its very own bagpiper in the congregation, since this meant, and here comes the quote, that

... now we don't have to borrow one from the Presbyterians!

And that's the news from Episco-land in the Southland.

The baby at the baptism was an angel and had a round face, big solemn eyes, and beautiful hands which he moved gracefully during the reciting of the Baptismal Covenant.

Me, I was especially struck today by this sentence during the "renouncing" part of the baptismal liturgy:
*******Do you renounce the evil powers of this world
*******(which corrupt and destroy the creatures of God?

We tend to notice the question before about renouncing Satan and the one after about sinful desires, but not this one. It struck me today in a William Stringfellow sort of way -- as in, the evil powers that are corrupt institutions and systemic evils that do indeed corrupt and destroy human persons (and other creatures!). See the writings of Stringfellow for more.

Oops, I digressed from the bagpiper. Told you there was a lot to talk about.

But I must get to bed. I also spent six hours at the office (yup, twice at church and twice at the office at school, a long Sunday) because tomorrow the semester begins at the college and my first class is at 8:30 a.m.

+Maya Pavlova sits under the desk lamp, warming the top of her head.

What it looks like lined up (a follow-up on the year-end roundup)

Padre Mickey reminds us that we are supposed to line up all those first sentences. (In my case, first and first-and-second sentences, depending.) It really is much funnier that way.

So here is a third look at those first lines of each first post of the month.

'course no one says you have to do it the way someone else says it. I liked doing the meme three different ways. Cue the appropriate Cole Porter song.

2008 in review: the one-paragraph non-sequitur version

Greetings, all. There's more Latin American stuff coming, and also Sunday's sermon, and a year-end roundup perhaps, but my computer is having trouble. Chora Church, a.k.a. Holy Saviour in the Country, a.k.a. Kariye Müzesi, Kariye Camii, or Kariye Kilisesi (the Chora Museum, Mosque or Church) is the church with the beautiful Byzantine mosaics, as beautiful as Haghia Sophia in its own way. There have been so many questions and concerns about my colleague Jeff that the college has posted an update on its website. It was fabulous. It was packed. Latest in our continuing series of international and intercultural insights by Brother of Acts of Hope. This was a designer who liked women. They don't all. Okay, foodies, here is a little social responsibility post. My friend X has come out of anonymity on his blog. The fabulous FranIAm, friend of the multitudes, has posted on the state of things. Okay, it's not as clever as the Great Schlep of Sarah Silverman and P.J. fame (P.J. told us about it and Sarah Silverman is in it, complete with profanity and with humor which you'll get all of if you're a M.O.T. and some of if you're not), but it may bring in just as many voters. One live, one gone to the ancestors. Speaking of Venice (see previous post, immediately below)... Venice is flooded.

The Year-End Round-up Meme

For this meme, you take the first sentence of the first post of each month and line ’em up. Like Magdalene, I have noted the months. I cheated thrice where there were very short sentences.

I should have known what kind of a year it was going to be with that first sentence...


January: Greetings, all. There's more Latin American stuff coming, and also Sunday's sermon, and a year-end roundup perhaps, but my computer is having trouble.

February: Chora Church, a.k.a. Holy Saviour in the Country, a.k.a. Kariye Müzesi, Kariye Camii, or Kariye Kilisesi (the Chora Museum, Mosque or Church) is the church with the beautiful Byzantine mosaics, as beautiful as Haghia Sophia in its own way.

March: There have been so many questions and concerns about my colleague Jeff that the college has posted an update on its website.

April: It was fabulous. It was packed.

May: Latest in our continuing series of international and intercultural insights by Brother of Acts of Hope.

June: This was a designer who liked women. They don't all.

July: Okay, foodies, here is a little social responsibility post.

August: My friend X has come out of anonymity on his blog.

September: The fabulous FranIAm, friend of the multitudes, has posted on the state of things.

October: Okay, it's not as clever as the Great Schlep of Sarah Silverman and P.J. fame (P.J. told us about it and Sarah Silverman is in it, complete with profanity and with humor which you'll get all of if you're a M.O.T. and some of if you're not), but it may bring in just as many voters.

November: One live, one gone to the ancestors.

December: Speaking of Venice (see previous post, immediately below)... Venice is flooded.


I'm adding a variant to the meme. If you look at the blog post subject lines (I almost wrote “headlines,” old journalist that I am) you get this:

January: Computer troubles, brief blogging hiatus (e-mail on hold too, all y'all)

February: Friday cat blogging: Chora cat

March: Prayers, Jeff update

April: The “Wright Stuff” event

May: Italy: a view from Turkey, in English

June: More prayers for X, who leaves anonymity

July: Quaker Dave flags Trader Joe’s

August: YSL, RIP

September: Disaster update: found new house, packed, moved, exhausted

October: Truckers for Obama

November: Two wonderful men

December: Venice under water


Are we ready for this year to be over?

Here's to a more mindful and, we pray, calmer 2009.

Let's play the 100 things list

FranIAm, Caminante, and Padre Mickey made me do it. Through the power of example. Also, I am procrastinating from reading the Elizabethan Homilies. (Don't ask.)

The things I have done are in bold.

1. Started my own blog
2. Slept under the stars
3. Played in a band
4. Visited Hawaii
5. Watched a meteor shower
6. Given more than I can afford to charity
7. Been to Disneyland/world
8. Climbed a mountain
9. Held a praying mantis
10. Sung a solo
11. Bungee jumped (and I hope I never do, thank you very much.)
12. Visited Paris (Visited, nothing. I lived there.)
13. Watched lightning at sea
14. Taught myself an art from scratch
15. Adopted a child
16. Had food poisoning (Only once, way back when I was in college, from a bad hamburger in New York. I can't remember the last time I ate a hamburger.)
17. Walked to the top of the Statue of Liberty (At age 5 and I'll never forget it! Neither will my mother since apparently I bitched and moaned once we got halfway up there, but we couldn't go back down since we were single file on those narrow stairs and all my cousins were there!)
18. Grown my own vegetables (Do herbs and strawberries count?)
19. Seen the Mona Lisa in France
20. Slept on an overnight train
21. Had a pillow fight
22. Hitchhiked
23. Taken a sick day when you’re not ill (Interesting how we've all done this one!)
24. Built a snow fort
25. Held a lamb (No, but I held a baby goat two years ago; you haven't lived till you've held a baby goat. They are waaaay cute.)
26. Gone skinny dipping (You betcha, and not just once. Small Vermont lakes are good for that.)
27. Run a Marathon
28. Ridden in a gondola in Venice (I can't remember. My major visit to Venice was when I was four and I remember the canal beneath the window and the song my brother made up about all the floating garbage on the water, but I don't remember a gondola. Probably our parents didn't have the money for it. OCICBW.)
29. Seen a total eclipse
30. Watched a sunrise or sunset (All the time. Mostly sunset these days.)
31. Hit a home run (In your dreams!)
32. Been on a cruise (No, but when I was little I crossed the Atlantic on a big ship; it was before taking airplanes was common; ships were cheaper and we were going to the States to visit family.)
33. Seen Niagara Falls in person
34. Visited the birthplace of my ancestors (That would be birthplaces, in the plural, like most Estadoünidenses. I hope to go to one of them. I don't know all the places. Lots of Jews whose records are lost.)
35. Seen an Amish community (Not yet, but I'm going later this year, perhaps in spring, with my colleague who knows the folks from one of the communities not too far from us.)
36. Taught myself a new language.
37. Had enough money to be truly satisfied (Briefly. On the other extreme, I was two or three years under the Federal poverty level when I was in Ph.D. studies. Which is not to say one has to have lots of money to be truly satisfied.)
38. Seen the Leaning Tower of Pisa in person
39. Gone rock climbing
40. Seen Michelangelo’s David
41. Sung karaoke (No, but I've sung on stage with piano and bands and guitar et al.)
42. Seen Old Faithful geyser erupt
43. Bought a stranger a meal at a restaurant (No, though I've bought strangers food and takeout.)
44. Visited Africa (Expect I'll go someday.)
45. Walked on a beach by moonlight
46. Been transported in an ambulance (Once. Thought I might be having a heart attack or some other physical problem; I was dizzy and had what felt like palpitations. It turned out to be a big honking panic attack, though the EMTs and the ER did not diagnose it that night.)
47. Had my portrait painted (Does a sketch artist at Montmartre when I was a kid count?)
48. Gone deep sea fishing
49. Seen the Sistine Chapel in person
50. Been to the top of the Eiffel Tower in Paris
51. Gone scuba diving or snorkeling (Snorkeling. Eilat, Israel, 1970 or 1971. Too chicken to scuba dive. Would love to snorkel again. Fishies and corals! If there are any left after we've messed up the planet as we have.)
52. Kissed in the rain (Of course! See above under "lived in Paris.")
53. Played in the mud (I was a kid once, wasn't I?)
54. Gone to a drive-in theater (In Vermont, as I recall.)
55. Been in a movie (No, but I'm available. Oh, wait, I was in a documentary in a big group. It was some kind of anti-war movie in the 1980s.)
56. Visited the Great Wall of China
57. Started a business (Does my own consulting business for a while count? It wasn't really a business, it was just me being a consultant.)
58. Taken a martial arts class (Once. Just for one session! But it was memorable.)
59. Visited Russia
60. Served at a soup kitchen
61. Sold Girl Scout Cookies (Ugh, no. French Girl Scouts don't sell cookies. They don't even make cookies.)
62. Gone whale watching (No -- shame on me, after all those years living in Massachusetts.)
63. Got flowers for no reason
64. Donated blood, platelets or plasma
65. Gone sky diving (Much too chicken.)
66. Visited a Nazi Concentration Camp (I will some day.)
67. Bounced a check (Ouch. More than once.)
68. Flown in a helicopter
69. Saved a favorite childhood toy (Brother's panda bear, passed on to me, in the family since my brother was one year old, i.e. 1943! Survived the Great Tree Crash of 2008. Needs a little vacuuming or dusting off. I also have a few of my favorite storybooks.)
70. Visited the Lincoln Memorial
71. Eaten caviar
72. Pieced a quilt
73. Stood in Times Square
74. Toured the Everglades
75. Been fired from a job (1. Yes, if you count the part-time job in a bakery where the owners kept changing my schedule and then finally announced to me they thought I wasn't happy with the schedule and things weren't working out. 2. No, but I once quit in a timely manner because I saw the handwriting on the wall.)
76. Seen the Changing of the Guards in London (When I was a little girl.)
77. Broken a bone (Thank Godde, knock wood, etc.)
78. Been on a speeding motorcycle (See above under "too chicken.")
79. Seen the Grand Canyon in person (I sure hope I do someday.)
80. Published a book
81. Visited the Vatican
82. Bought a brand new car (Only once in my life, and it died in a freak fire. I wasn't in it.)
83. Walked in Jerusalem
84. Had my picture in the newspaper
85. Read the entire Bible (No, I'm an Episcopalian. ;-) But I have read most of it, and I read it a lot.)
86. Visited the White House (Waiting for an invitation from the Obamas, like everybody else.)
87. Killed and prepared an animal for eating (No, but my cat did.)
88. Had chickenpox (Terrible case, when I was three. Had to be sent to the country for several weeks to convalesce.)
89. Saved someone’s life (Depends what you mean. No, not literally i.e. physically. I have a friend who claims I saved his life in another way, and another whom I drove to detox; she's been clean and sober ever since, and alive and happy too. But that really was her decision, with, I'm sure, help from her Higher Power.)
90. Sat on a jury (No, I didn't get chosen.)
91. Met someone famous
92. Joined a book club (Nah, too many years in school. Perpetual book club and you had to pay for it. But I love to read and to discuss books with friends.)
93. Lost a loved one (Many more than one...)
94. Had a baby
95. Seen the Alamo in person
96. Swam in the Great Salt Lake
97. Been involved in a lawsuit
98. Owned a cell phone
99. Been stung by a bee
100. Ridden an elephant (Sounds like fun, assuming the elephant isn't drunk or angry.)

Watch those burritos

So says an ad in the New York transpo system.

Told ya purritos were the way to go.

Purrito!

The Purrito. Courtesy of my buddy Ken, who has briefly interrupted his political rants and laments to bring us comfort and giggles. Icanhascheezburger has something to do with this, natch.

Mysterious Stranger and Moose in the Mountains, courtesy of Padre Mickey

That cute critter in the middle is Fuzzy Southern Mountain Moose. She joins Mighty Moose of Vermont, El Penguino, the one and only Miss Egyptian Hippo of Love, The Boys, and everybody else (yes, you too, squeaky cat) for adventures and conversations and sometimes both.

Click on the photo to see her and the whole gang up close.

Ms. Fuzzy Moose came to Asheville with a Mysterious Stranger in fedora and trenchcoat. What are they and The Boys doing with Padre Mickey?

You can click on this one too, if you want to see huge dishes of blackberry cobbler up close. The main courses with chutneys and drinks and Indian bread are gone gone gone. For the whole story, see the inimitable Padre's new installment of Friday Red Mr. Peanut Bank and Gallito Mescalito Blogging.

What will you drink during the debate?

Okay, campers, whatever your persuasion, imbibing or twelve-stepper, highbrow or lowbrow or middle browbrow, we want to know: What are you going to drink during the Biden-Palin debate tomorrow?

The Comments await you below.

A prize (yet to be determined, but most likely of the foodie sort) to anyone who invents a good mixed drink (alcoholic or non), not a joke drink, for the occasion.

If you think the occasion does not in any way call for mixed drinks, say so.

You may NOT waste a Château Haut-Brion or Castello Banfi's Excelsus Sant'Antimo D.O.C. on this debate. Champagne is also off limits: we are not hexing this election. Anything else is fair game. Off you go then, as MadPriest would say.

On the Necessity of Naps: A Pastoral Letter from +Maya Pavlova

Beloved two-leggers and four-leggers all, and three-leggers and wheel-riders too,

Grace, peace, and purrs to you in the name of the One who feeds us and keeps us safe and provides us companions with whom to play.

I have been meaning to write this pastoral letter since my return from London and Lambeth, but have been much preoccupied with {{{yaaaawwwwn}}} the very subject of this letter. Canine and feline time, as my brother bishops +Clumber, +Airedale, and +Rowan have noted, is a time unfettered by the meetings and schedules of humans.

Yesterday afternoon, on the blessed Day of Resurrection, my Canon to the Extraordinary, having returned from church, had a light repast and headed for her bed, declaring that she ought to make up a deficit of sleep from the previous night. After jumping onto the bed and sniffing about, I decided to depart curl up on my own, on the other bed in the house, in another room. I am +Maya Pavlova and I sleep wherever I want.

We slept for well over two hours, so the two-legger said. Myself, I do not count.

When we got up, she was of a peaceful spirit and I of a sprightly one.

This led me finally to compose this episcopal admonition to you, my beloved.

I have noticed that the Canon to the Extraordinary is occasionally cranky. "Occasionally" is a kind, moderate, and appropriately Anglican word. So is "cranky."

There seem to be two ways of applying a remedy to this most unpleasant state of hers: dipping her in hot water (what she refers to as "a bath" or "a nice soak in the tub") or seeking the blessed peace of sleep.Only one of these remedies, the second of the two, functions in all seasons (hot water is no remedy in the muggy summers of our fair state), is appropriate for all species (we felines never engage in such wet pursuits as "baths") and requires minimal shifting or changing of the clothing which fur-less two-legs must wear. The short version of this happy remedy is the nap.

Where, you may ask, is this nap mandated in Holy Scripture? And if we are Anglicans, what of the other sources of our common life? Are we not departing from tradition? What of reason? Notice, my friends, the three legged stool: and what better place for a small cat like me to curl up in a ball and slumber?

But I have digressed, or perhaps not. That is my privilege as a cat.

Holy Writ, my friends, does mention Jesus going to a place apart in the midst of his ministry. Certainly he prayed. But think you not that he had another thought as he drew apart to commune with the Creator? Get me away from these people!
 
You will argue that there appears to be in Holy Scripture no explicit reference to naps. There is, friends, there is. I speak not only of the blessed sleep of Jacob and his visions, and of the exhausted slumber of the weakened friends of Jesus in the garden --surely a sign of nap deprivation over the long term-- but of even more certain and detailed nap references in a recently discovered non-canonical writing, the Feline Apocryphon of Maya Magdalena.

Maya Magdalena, an ancestor of mine, is said by this scriptural fragment to have been a four-legged companion of one of the friends of Jesus. Certain references even indicate that she was for a time a faithful companion of Jesus himself. The surviving fragment of the Feline Apocryphon of Maya Magdalena states that on several occasions, this four-legged feline wrapped herself around the ankles of Jesus and twice slept on his lap. Yes, Jesus had a lap. Was he not fully human and fully divine? Do humans not have laps?

Did Jesus not embrace small children and praise the insight of such little ones? Surely he saw also the beauty of dogs and cats. Anthropocentric editors of the Gospels and Epistles have suppressed the tales of animal companions. They have paid some attention to other animals: the wild beasts who with the angels fed Jesus in the desert, the ancient sacrifice of animals (+Maya does not want to hear of this), the beasts and birds and dragon in the Apocalypse of John. But what of the real and daily creatures, four-legged, winged, and slithering animal companions? Were they only the dogs in the story of the Syrophoenician woman, eating the crumbs under the table?

The Feline Apocryphon of Maya Magdalena shows us that creatures of all kinds, especially felines, were bearers of the Gospel. Indeed, it is in a scene depicting Jesus with the sleeping Maya Magdalena that we hear him say, softly and admiringly, "Be ye like this feline of peace, and nap often, for of such behavior is the kin-dom of Godde made."

Increase the number of naps in your life, beloved. Your level of doctrinal irritation will decrease immediately. You will neither sue nor be sued. All creatures will appear more beautiful to you when you wake, though before you gaze at them you will feel the need to stretch and sigh, and so you must do, extending your limbs and breathing and perhaps grooming yourself before rising to greet the world again.

If you have not known the bliss of the nap, seek out a napper who may witness to you calmly and joyfully.

Are naps with other creatures permitted? I have napped with my human companion, when I so please. The decision is mine. The two-legger Caminante, a friend of creatures of many nations and a Canon in fair green lands, has shown us, in her electronic epistles, her feline companions curled up against one another. Love and nap with each other in freedom, dear ones, as the Spirit and your own free will move you.

+Maya has spoken.

Yours in the grace of recurring snoozes, with pastoral love for all, without exception,

The Right Rev. and Right Hon. Maya Pavlova, F.B.E.
 
Now, if you will excuse me, I am going to curl up in the sun by the window of the study. Meet and right it is that the Canon to the Extraordinary set up a cat-sized perch parallel to the window and the desk so that I might enjoy my leisure. I wish for you the very same. And if no one makes you such a perch, make it yourself. I also recommend the top of a pile of clean, soft laundry. - +MP, FBE.

P.S. To behold me in detail, click on photos to enlarge.

She's back

Her Grace flew in after some adventures involving a connecting flight at JFK, since there is no direct flight from London to Greensboro, and arrived mighty tired in the wee hours. This did not keep her from jumping to the top of a tall bookcase after we had exchanged affectionate greetings.


While you will notice Virgil on the left and three black books which are by Dante, you need to know that there are a lot of English poets among those books. The horizontal book, if you look closely, is a volume of the complete works of Shakespeare. These are just the way +Maya Pavlova left them before going to Lambeth. (Below them is a shelf with a diptych icon and below that are a lot of French poets and playrights. Our feline bishop is multilingual.)

+Maya says: Now I get to sleep on top of something full of English words, but it doesn't get up and move every hour and a half, and it's quiet. Aaaaaaaahhhhh.

Her Grace misses home

This came in last night from the Right Rev. and Right Hon. Maya Pavlova, Feline Bishop Extraordinaire. I wasn't able to post it earlier today.

Beloved Canon to the Extraordinary and All My Friendly Humans,

I am getting homesick. You know we cats like our own turf, agile as we are in many venues. I miss North Carolina. There are plenty of laps to sit on here at Lambeth but the two-legged bishops keep getting up to run to the next event so I have to get up all the time too. There are humans everywhere and lots of hopping bunnies, so it's also hard to find a quiet corner for no-lap naps. I crept into the tent that has that nice cartoonist Dave Walker who likes cats, but he was busy giving interviews. +Clumber is tired and needs to get back to Pittsburgh and +Airedale to Fort Woof. +Rowan is fine as long as he has a place to play but even he is a little weary,and to be frank, I think he misses Lindy. It looks like we're going to come home early. I've had enough clotted cream. I'll text you from +Airedale's phone [note from Jane: where did this cat learn text messaging??] and let you know when my plane is coming in. Have the Newman's Organic Cat Food ready with a bowl of cold fresh water beside it.

I also gather from your letters that you have some more summer writing to do, and though you haven't asked, I know you do much better with a cat by your side when you are trying to think deep thoughts. My pastoral responsibilities are back with my creatures. I'll nap, you'll write, and we will both be the better for it. England was nice, but enough is enough. Besides, what else do we need to say? +Airedale has been clear as day that loving all creatures is what matters most. I've enjoyed being with my brother canine bishops. That was the best part of the trip, though I did enjoy the photo shoot with the other female bishops.

Once I am rested up, which may take some time, I intend to write a pastoral letter on the need for naps. I'm sure the two-legged bishops would be much calmer if they could nap as well as pray.

Faithfully yours, with purrs,

+Maya Pavlova, F.B.E.