There are 2 means of refuge from the miseries of life: music and cats.

Albert Schweitzer

A Simple Sunday Supper

It's entertaining season again...yes, I know the holidays are past, when most folks do their partying, but that is a non-stop time of work for me. The cold, desolate winter months are when I most enjoy having friends over for dinner and we do it on an almost weekly basis. When I plan these dinner parties I normally start with a clean slate: looking thru cookbooks and my pile of clipped recipes for ideas, making a grocery list and then shopping, cleaning, setting a pretty table, and cooking. It's my favorite winter sport.

On a recent Sunday evening we hosted our good friends Debby and Paul, both musicians, and I decided to do things a little differently. Having just come thru a rather pricey Christmas and with a wedding coming up in August I wanted to see how little money I could spend and still serve up a marvelous meal. So I took stock of the freezer and cupboard and went to the store for only 4 items, which amounted to a mere $15. Here's the menu, and how I did it:

Appetizers: A small chunk of Jarlsburg, found in the fridge, with crackers from who knows when (but still fresh), some leftover kalamata olives, and smoked mussels that I purchased to serve at Christmas but never did.

Main dish: Pasta sauce from the freezer, with ground beef, served over colorful bowtie pasta.

Salad: Generously contributed by Debbie.

A loaf of whole grain artisan bread.

Dessert: Pecan pie, made with nuts from Texas given to us by my Aunt Dot. (for recipe see No. 10, Rx for the Winter Blahs)

Wine: An Australian Malbec, in stock, so to speak.

This was a stick-to-your ribs winter supper and I'm happy to report that I have enough sauce in the freezer for 2 more company dinners. A note about the pasta sauce: in August, when our tomatoes are at their peak, we gather them for several days, filling the fridge with baskets and baskets of them. I then make a sauce, loosely following the Italian Tomato Sauce recipe from the Moosewood Cookbook and using as much produce from the garden and farmers market as possible. This includes lots of onions, garlic, herbs and zucchini.

Ragu? Paul Newman? Barilla? Sorry...you don't stand a chance.

For the New Year, 2011

The Guest House

This human being is a guest house.

Every morning a new arrival.

A joy, a depression, a meanness,

some momentary awareness comes

as an unexpected visitor.

Welcome and entertain them all!

Even if they are a crowd of sorrows,

who violently sweep your house

empty of its furniture,

still, treat each guest honorably.

He may be clearing you out

for some new delight.

The dark thought, the shame, the malice,

meet them at the door laughing and invite them in.

Be grateful for whatever comes,

because each has been sent

as a guide from beyond.

--Jelaluddin Rumi

37. Happy Holiday

I woke up on Christmas Day with a deep sense of gratitude. As the early morning sun shone thru the window I took a few minutes to count my blessings...good health, a loving family and long marriage, a happy daughter, meaningful work, enough money, many dear friends, hope for the future.

This Christmas has been very special and full of joy. Emily and Jeff spent the holiday with us and they brought a welcome addition to our celebration. We had a full house with gifts, books, laptops and iPhones scattered all around, movies of varying quality, music, NPR, and a bustling kitchen. I can't remember the last time someone prepared Christmas breakfast for me, and this one was stellar- omelettes, bacon, and babka. And to add to it all there was a little levity...

All four of us attended the 4 pm service on Christmas Eve, came home for a simple supper of fish stew, then Bill and I went back to St. Saviour's to play and sing for the 10 pm service. While we were gone some kitchen elves made a cake, frosted it and then decorated it with this: Happy Birthday Jesus. Those same elves hid it on the front porch, cleaned every trace of preparation from the kitchen, and presented it Christmas morning on our special occasion cake plate.

Keep in mind this comes from a Jew and soon-to-be Jew...and this is humor that I like. Come back soon, Em and Jeff!

36. Found in the Offering Box

The best of what makes us human will survive as long as there is just one person left who can play music like that!

As one enters the main doors of St. Saviour's Episcopal Parish in Bar Harbor there is a locked, metal box on the wall for gifts of money to the church. The above note was found in that box in August.

From June until the end of October hundreds, maybe even thousands of tourists flock thru our doors during the week and on Sundays. Being next door to Acadia National Park and sporting an unbelievable location combining ocean and mountains, Bar Harbor is a big tourist destination. The year the town will be visited by approximately 100 cruise ships alone. St. Saviour's is on the National Historic Registry and is famous for its Tiffany windows; hence many, many people want to see it for themselves.

But there is so much more to this beautiful space than the windows. There is a profound, awe-inspiring sense of the sacred here. I have witnessed countless examples of people of many nationalities and faiths (or no faith) be struck dumb as they enter the church. The feeling of something greater than ourselves is present, and I confess to being aware of it every time I am there.

I do a lot of practicing in August and many visitors sit down to listen for a few minutes. Often they are even on their knees praying. It's a little strange to be off in my own world of the music and discover that someone is listening, and I have to put that out of my mind so that I am not distracted. Sometimes someone will quietly say thank-you as they are leaving and at times the listener will have the courage to approach me on the bench. But I never fail to see that somehow the music has comforted or transformed the listeners, even if just for a few minutes.

This posting is not about me and any special ability I might have as an organist. It is about the power and meaning of music, whether new or ancient, in this special place. How fortunate I am to be the conduit for that, and I am filled with gratitude.

35. Happy News

I am delighted to report that our daughter Emily is engaged to be married. She and Jeff have been together for almost two years and I think they are a good match. As an example, he is able to make Emily laugh in a way I've rarely seen and that is good! Bill and I are looking forward to having Jeff be a part of our family, and as a bonus we really enjoy his parents, too.

This is turning out to be one of those moments when I am acutely aware of the passage of time, of entering a new phase of life, of handing over the keys to the next generation. My head is now bursting with memories of Emily's presence in my life as well as my own two weddings. I feel as if I'm on a cloud, looking down at my life and seeing many good times, mixed with a dash of regret and some mistakes.

Lately I have been listening to Elizabeth Gilbert's Committed. She is a wise and thoughtful writer and I can only wish that I had been tuned into her sort of wisdom when I was younger. Emily is 25, and by the time I was her age I had already been married and divorced from my childhood sweetheart. When I married Bill at age 28 I was only slightly more aware of what a long-term commitment involved. We have rolled with the punches, however, and in September joyfully celebrated our 27th anniversary.

From what I've witnessed both Emily and Jeff have given much thought to their vision for a life together. Is there any way I can tell them that the gift of love is what makes life worth living? Can I speak of the importance of cherishing one another above all else? Will I be able to support them during the rough spots while encouraging them to keep their faith in each other? These precepts are what I've come to believe through experience and observation. Already I see that their love for one another is deep and that brings me great joy.

Congratulations, dear ones.

34. Island Cottage

The past two months have been frenetic, rather like an Allegro con fuoco, yet full of many good things...the AGO convention in DC, a weekend with Emily and Jeff in their new place, the Sewanee Church Musicians Conference, visits from several good friends...and full of an enormous amount of work including playing two recitals and managing a concert series. I feel like I spent the entire month of August sitting on an organ bench somewhere. As the last tremendous chord of my recital at St. Saviour's in late August resonated throughout the church, I let myself think ahead a bit...vacation, a true vacation!

For 18 years we spent some time around Labor Day in the north woods of Maine (see Homage to Spencer Pond, No. 18). This year felt like the time to try something different, so for a week we rented a cottage on Campobello, a small island roughly 10 miles off the northern coast of Maine. It is reached by means of a short bridge from Lubec, and even though a passport is needed to get through customs it is the easiest international trip I can imagine. Simply by driving over that bridge you're in friendly, bilingual Canada.

Campobello is perhaps best known as the summer home of FDR, but mainly this is a quiet and often poor place, where many people just barely get by with fishing or service jobs. The island has its share of rundown houses, abandoned trailers and trash alongside the roads. It is also an immensely beautiful place with a bold rocky coast on the east side and quiet coves and harbors on the west. There is a dramatic lighthouse where one can spot whales, seals and eagles.

I wanted long days with nothing on the schedule but hours of reading, walks along the coast and quiet candlelit dinners. I got my wish, and more. Despite intense and unusual heat we dutifully traipsed out for a hike each day and discovered the natural air-conditioning at Liberty Point. I read a fantastic book, Saturday by Ian McEwan, and evenings were spent with a simple supper and glass of wine on the deck overlooking the water and magnificent sunset. Best of all, I began each day on that same deck with a cup of coffee and some poetry and realized, this is enough. I am renewed.

And now it's back to the hectic fall routine of conducting, teaching, accompanying and practicing. As I do at this juncture every year I vow to somehow stay on top of things while at the same time looking after that part of me that needs quiet and time alone. I don't have the answer to that conundrum, but I can keep trying.