We are beginning the intense production of fudge for the Christmas sales catalog. As I have the last few years, I will be in the bakery three days a week: Monday, Tuesday, and Thursday.
After Vigils (sometime around 6:00) I walk down to the bakery and begin to heat the kettles. I put 2 pounds of butter in each kettle as well as the water and preservative. I check to make sure that other things are set up: the depositor is ready, fudge trays (both 12 ounce and 6 ounce) to the left of the depositor, stacks of trays at the side of the depositor, the tray rack near-by, and so on. I go back up to the house for Mass at 7:00.
After Mass I return to the bakery and begin preparing the first 3 batches of fudge. The other workers arrive by 8:45 and we begin. We pour buckets of fudge into the funnel of the depositor; one worked dispenses fudge into a fudge tray, passes it to another guy who checks the weight, corrects it if necessary, and then puts it on a tray. Other guys are setting up boxes with plastic inserts and instruction cards.
We will make 9 kettles in a morning. When the fudge is set, it will be boxed and stacked, ready to be shrink wrapped. The end of the morning is spent cleaning -- tearing the depositor apart, cleaning all the pieces, and putting it back together.
In the afternoon, monks will return to shrink wrap and store all the fudge; clean the floors; and get ready for the next day of production.
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
Sunday, August 22, 2010
Day in Atlanta
Yes, it's true! Yesterday I was in downtown Atlanta with a cell phone.
Sacred Heart Church was made a minor basilica yesterday. Our abbot was invited to attend the Mass in the morning and he asked me to drive him in. I would then have time to visit the High Museum. So, we left here around 8:00 and reached Sacred Heart about 9:00; I let him out and proceeded up Peachtree NE. The High did not open until 10:00 so I stopped at a Barnes and Noble and browsed a bit. I picked up a couple of books that I might have bought 10 years ago. I looked at them and thought I might eventually ask to get them for our library. I put them back on their shelves.
At the High I was herded directly to the Dali exhibition. I have never been especially attracted to Dali and the visit yesterday did not change that. Dali was clever; he was a gifted painter; he sought celebrity; I left the exhibit hungry to see some Matisse.
I wandered through the rest of the High, enjoying its good collection of American furniture and decorative art. I sought out Howard Finster's corner.
I ate lunch there (half a chicken salad sandwich and a bowl of chili) and then returned to Sacred Heart to pick up Francis Michael. (We had exchanged a couple of phone calls in the course of the morning.)
On the way home we stopped at Our Lady of Perpetual Help cancer home (this is the home for which Flannery O'Connor wrote her introduction on Mary Ann, a child with cancer). One of our long-time employees is there. We had a pleasant visit and then returned home about 3:00.
I returned the keys to the vehicle and the cell phone to the office.
Sacred Heart Church was made a minor basilica yesterday. Our abbot was invited to attend the Mass in the morning and he asked me to drive him in. I would then have time to visit the High Museum. So, we left here around 8:00 and reached Sacred Heart about 9:00; I let him out and proceeded up Peachtree NE. The High did not open until 10:00 so I stopped at a Barnes and Noble and browsed a bit. I picked up a couple of books that I might have bought 10 years ago. I looked at them and thought I might eventually ask to get them for our library. I put them back on their shelves.
At the High I was herded directly to the Dali exhibition. I have never been especially attracted to Dali and the visit yesterday did not change that. Dali was clever; he was a gifted painter; he sought celebrity; I left the exhibit hungry to see some Matisse.
I wandered through the rest of the High, enjoying its good collection of American furniture and decorative art. I sought out Howard Finster's corner.
I ate lunch there (half a chicken salad sandwich and a bowl of chili) and then returned to Sacred Heart to pick up Francis Michael. (We had exchanged a couple of phone calls in the course of the morning.)
On the way home we stopped at Our Lady of Perpetual Help cancer home (this is the home for which Flannery O'Connor wrote her introduction on Mary Ann, a child with cancer). One of our long-time employees is there. We had a pleasant visit and then returned home about 3:00.
I returned the keys to the vehicle and the cell phone to the office.
Sunday, July 11, 2010
St. Benedict
All of us who live according to the Rule of St. Benedict celebrate one of his two feasts today (the other is March 21, which is also the anniversary of our foundation, 66 years ago). Here is an address from 1964 by Pope Paul VI:
Saint Benedict has the reputation of being the messenger of peace, the maker of unity, the master of civilization, and especially the herald of Christianity and the author of monasticism in the West. When darkness seemed to be spreading over Europe after the fall of the Roman empire he brought the light of dawn to shine upon this continent. For with the cross, the book, and the plow, Christian civilization was carried, principally through him and his sons, to the peoples who lived in those lands which stretch from the Mediterranean to Scandinavia, and from Ireland to the plains of Poland.
With the cross, that is with the law of Christ, he strength¬ened and developed the institutions of private and social life. Through the "Work of God," that is, through the careful and assiduous conduct of prayer, he taught that divine worship was of the greatest importance in the social order. And so he sealed that spiritual unity of Europe in which the various nations of different ethnic origins and languages felt themselves to be united into the one people of God. And so this unity, learnt from so great a master, which the sons of Saint Benedict so faithfully strove to achieve, became the principal element in that period of history called the middle ages. All men of good will in our times must strive to recover that unity, which, as Saint Augustine says, is "the form of all beauty," and which alas has been lost in the vicissitudes of history.
With the book, that is, with the culture of the mind, this venerable patriarch from whom so many monasteries have drawn their name and their spirit spread his doctrine through the old classics of literature and the liberal arts, preserved and passed on to posterity by them with so much care.
And lastly, with the plow, that is, through agriculture, he changed the waste and desert lands into orchards and delightful gardens; and joining work with prayer in the spirit of those words ora et labora, he restored the dignity of human labor.
Not without reason, then, did Pope Plus XII call Saint Benedict the "Father of Europe," for he inspired the peoples of this continent with the love of order upon which their social life depends. We pray he may look upon Europe, and by his prayer achieve even greater things in years to come.
Saint Benedict has the reputation of being the messenger of peace, the maker of unity, the master of civilization, and especially the herald of Christianity and the author of monasticism in the West. When darkness seemed to be spreading over Europe after the fall of the Roman empire he brought the light of dawn to shine upon this continent. For with the cross, the book, and the plow, Christian civilization was carried, principally through him and his sons, to the peoples who lived in those lands which stretch from the Mediterranean to Scandinavia, and from Ireland to the plains of Poland.
With the cross, that is with the law of Christ, he strength¬ened and developed the institutions of private and social life. Through the "Work of God," that is, through the careful and assiduous conduct of prayer, he taught that divine worship was of the greatest importance in the social order. And so he sealed that spiritual unity of Europe in which the various nations of different ethnic origins and languages felt themselves to be united into the one people of God. And so this unity, learnt from so great a master, which the sons of Saint Benedict so faithfully strove to achieve, became the principal element in that period of history called the middle ages. All men of good will in our times must strive to recover that unity, which, as Saint Augustine says, is "the form of all beauty," and which alas has been lost in the vicissitudes of history.
With the book, that is, with the culture of the mind, this venerable patriarch from whom so many monasteries have drawn their name and their spirit spread his doctrine through the old classics of literature and the liberal arts, preserved and passed on to posterity by them with so much care.
And lastly, with the plow, that is, through agriculture, he changed the waste and desert lands into orchards and delightful gardens; and joining work with prayer in the spirit of those words ora et labora, he restored the dignity of human labor.
Not without reason, then, did Pope Plus XII call Saint Benedict the "Father of Europe," for he inspired the peoples of this continent with the love of order upon which their social life depends. We pray he may look upon Europe, and by his prayer achieve even greater things in years to come.
Thursday, July 8, 2010
Brother Victor
Brother Victor, aged 91, died last night about 9:30. His last illness was brief; he refused to go to the hospital, preferring to be cared for here; our infirmarians made sure he was comfortable. We took turns sitting with him for the last few days and he died peacefully with his nephew and one of our novices with him.
When I entered 4 years ago, Victor was getting around on a motorized scooter. Each morning he would be in the kitchen, chopping vegetables for our lunch. He had been a cook years before; and our laundry man for a number of years. He entered as a lay brother. (Lay brothers were not ordained, followed a simpler round of offices, and concentrated on manual labor. In the renewal of monastic life following Vatican II, that status was done away with; the former lay brothers here continue to follow a simpler round of offices.) In the last couple of years, Victor remained in the infirmary, becoming ever more deaf. But he always greeted monks with a smile. I would often go up at suppertime when Victor would have his raw vegetables and canned mackerel; we would exchange smiles and greetings.
It is odd how familiar dying has become to me. I am now alert to various changes in breathing. When I sat with Victor on Tuesday evening, he was still fairly alert; he would turn his head and smile; his breathing was fairly even and frequent. By the following morning, his eyes remained closed and his breathing was slower and shallower.
We will receive his body at 5:00 this evening, take turns sitting with him in church, and have his funeral Mass in the morning, laying him in his grave with the 50 others in our cemetery.
When I entered 4 years ago, Victor was getting around on a motorized scooter. Each morning he would be in the kitchen, chopping vegetables for our lunch. He had been a cook years before; and our laundry man for a number of years. He entered as a lay brother. (Lay brothers were not ordained, followed a simpler round of offices, and concentrated on manual labor. In the renewal of monastic life following Vatican II, that status was done away with; the former lay brothers here continue to follow a simpler round of offices.) In the last couple of years, Victor remained in the infirmary, becoming ever more deaf. But he always greeted monks with a smile. I would often go up at suppertime when Victor would have his raw vegetables and canned mackerel; we would exchange smiles and greetings.
It is odd how familiar dying has become to me. I am now alert to various changes in breathing. When I sat with Victor on Tuesday evening, he was still fairly alert; he would turn his head and smile; his breathing was fairly even and frequent. By the following morning, his eyes remained closed and his breathing was slower and shallower.
We will receive his body at 5:00 this evening, take turns sitting with him in church, and have his funeral Mass in the morning, laying him in his grave with the 50 others in our cemetery.
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
Hot and humid
It continues to be hot and humid here. Yesterday morning I thought it must be in the mid-90s, but when I checked the temperature, it was ONLY 85 degrees. Even the early mornings are not refreshingly cool; the humidity makes even the mornings uncomfortable. On one hand, remembering summer afternoon thunderstorms in Indiana, I wish for rain to cool the air; on the other hand, remembering afternoon thunderstorms in Georgia, I dread a rain that will only increase the humidity.
I still have loads of pictures to post. Blogger now offers me the Image icon, but the process of posting gets bogged down. I am waiting a day or two before I try again.
Work is as usual. I helped with the fruitcake production on Monday morning; I prepared peaches and pecans for the fudge we will make on Thursday; today I will work in the glass shop part of the morning and come back here to the computer to scan some readings for next week's Second Nocturns (the part of Vigils when we hear from the Fathers and Mothers of the Church). This afternoon we will not work -- it is a half-holiday for Peter and Paul.
I still have loads of pictures to post. Blogger now offers me the Image icon, but the process of posting gets bogged down. I am waiting a day or two before I try again.
Work is as usual. I helped with the fruitcake production on Monday morning; I prepared peaches and pecans for the fudge we will make on Thursday; today I will work in the glass shop part of the morning and come back here to the computer to scan some readings for next week's Second Nocturns (the part of Vigils when we hear from the Fathers and Mothers of the Church). This afternoon we will not work -- it is a half-holiday for Peter and Paul.
Friday, June 25, 2010
Stained glass windows
At last I have an image icon on my post, so I can post what I have been waiting to do for nearly a month: pictures from churches in Atlanta where we can see stained glass windows designed and made here at the monastery.
Sunday, June 13, 2010
Only words for a while
For 10 days or so I have been waiting to post some photos we took of stained glass in Atlanta area churches. But Blogger is not providing me with the proper links. They claim they are aware of the problem "some" of us are having with the icons on our post window. So, for now, only words.
It is hot. In the mornings, with the big fan pulling in air, the church is fairly cool and comfortable for Vigils (at 4:00 a.m.) and for some of Mass (at 7:00 a.m.), but by Midday at noon it is uncomfortably hot and by Vespers (at 5:20 p.m.) it is almost unbearable. My T-shirt is soaked by the end of Vespers -- and all I have been doing is standing, sitting, and singing.
I am in the midst of organizing the big fudge season, which will begin in mid-August this year. I have been working with Br. James (from our monastery in Lantao -- near Hong Kong) to figure out how many boxes we need to order. I will wait until the end of July to order a third of the ingredients. By the end of July all the fruitcakes should be baked for this year.
The novitiate has been asked to help prepare a display about all our deceased monks. I am working with Br. Chaminade, our archivist (he also works in the glass shop with me) to gather material on the 50 men buried in our cemetery. He has photos of most of them. Along the way, novices will interview some of our older monks to capture anecdotes about those who died before 1970. Those with memories that go back to the early days are declining and we want to gather what we can now. We have a new digital recorder to help us.
That recorder will also be used to record some books for our blind novice. He has access to books and tapes from a variety of sources, but some of the books we use are not readily available. He has some sight to get around. He reads braille and has been helping me learn to read it. I read it with my eyes, not my fingers. I use his Perkins brailler to write: it is a typewriter with six keys, three for each hand.
It is hot. In the mornings, with the big fan pulling in air, the church is fairly cool and comfortable for Vigils (at 4:00 a.m.) and for some of Mass (at 7:00 a.m.), but by Midday at noon it is uncomfortably hot and by Vespers (at 5:20 p.m.) it is almost unbearable. My T-shirt is soaked by the end of Vespers -- and all I have been doing is standing, sitting, and singing.
I am in the midst of organizing the big fudge season, which will begin in mid-August this year. I have been working with Br. James (from our monastery in Lantao -- near Hong Kong) to figure out how many boxes we need to order. I will wait until the end of July to order a third of the ingredients. By the end of July all the fruitcakes should be baked for this year.
The novitiate has been asked to help prepare a display about all our deceased monks. I am working with Br. Chaminade, our archivist (he also works in the glass shop with me) to gather material on the 50 men buried in our cemetery. He has photos of most of them. Along the way, novices will interview some of our older monks to capture anecdotes about those who died before 1970. Those with memories that go back to the early days are declining and we want to gather what we can now. We have a new digital recorder to help us.
That recorder will also be used to record some books for our blind novice. He has access to books and tapes from a variety of sources, but some of the books we use are not readily available. He has some sight to get around. He reads braille and has been helping me learn to read it. I read it with my eyes, not my fingers. I use his Perkins brailler to write: it is a typewriter with six keys, three for each hand.
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