First Faire Of The Season

Here I am at 9:00 a.m. ready to drive Rachel and myself to Guilford, CT for the first ever Robin Hood Faire. It was on the small side, but if it's successful, it will grow. It's put on by the same people that put on what they're now calling King Arthur's Fall Harvest Faire, so we saw a lot of the same vendors and acts.

But there were some new ones as well. One of our favorites of the new vendors was Jessica Walters' Willowsong Designs. This was her first faire, having appeared exclusively at craft shows before. She does marvelous things with polymer clay, including whimsical dragons. She said she thinks that renaissance faires really are more her target audience. She hopes to be at the Southern Connecticut Renaissance Festival in Danbury next month. She will definitely be at the Fall Faire. We look forward to seeing more of her work.

Among the acts we hadn't seen before was Blackenshear. Here he is with the last bit of his Curious Magic show. Yes, that is a balloon banjo, and yes, it actually plays--even Beethoven's Ode to Joy.

Some of the story line, especially the joust portions. Things should improve as they get more experience under their belts.

Thirteen days and counting to the next faire!

Peace,
Jeff

A Weekend Of Stories

We gathered for our annual Fall Dance Camp in Becket, Massachusetts. We have two every year, currently one at the end of April/beginning of May and one in October. This fall's camp marked the 20th Anniversary of the gathering of this community. In many ways, it wasn't much different from our usual camps. In others...

For many of us--a large majority of the "core" membership--who began this journey in our late twenties and early thirties, we now find ourselves approaching our fifties, or already there. In terms of tenure, I am one of the community's elders. In terms of age, I fall somewhere in the middle. I am dancing with folks who are old enough to be my parents and young enough to be my children. I became part of the community in 1991 through a series of gender-free contra dances sponsored by the Triangle Community Center. I went to my first camp in February 1993 (back when they were held in February and September) and have only missed two since then due to health reasons.

We are a community that preserves its history through stories and through archives. To help celebrate the 20th anniversary people brought photo albums and the "official" archives of Dance Camp. Chris Ricciotti, the Queen Mum (as we lovingly call our founder), brought a print out of the timeline project, which started a couple of years ago. It began with sheets of paper taped together with years marked on them. Chris asked us to jot down the events of our own dance histories. Every so often he will print it out, bring it to camp, post it, and ask us to continue adding our stories. It is a living document, a continuing story of our community.

Saturday night at the end of the Variety Show Chris showed a short film compiled from videos taken by various community members over the years. We saw our younger selves (I'd almost forgotten that I still had a mustache when I started dancing with this community!); we saw those who have moved on and those who have passed on. There were cameras at this camp to record it in moving pictures and still.

We shared stories around meal tables, at night around the fireplace, and sitting on the edges of the dance floor. We passed on our stories to the newer members of the community, bringing them into the community's story as they begin to add their own parts to it.

There were tears. There was laughter. There were hugs. And, of course, there was dancing.

The story continues.

Peace,
Jeff

Weekend Away

Tomorrow afternoon I head up to Becket, Massachusetts for the 20th Anniversary Lavender and Country Folk Dancers Dance Camp. I've taken tomorrow and Monday as vacation days. Four days away from the office, and I won't be traveling for business purposes!

I'll also be leaving my computer at home. I have been tempted to take it so that I could check in on the diocesan convention and the election of our next bishop. I've decided I'm not going to worry about it. The election results will still be there when I get home Sunday evening.

No responses, charges, and countercharges about Pope Benedict's recent announcement about providing a "home" for disaffected Anglicans.

No Integrity mail list.

No Episcopal/Anglican blogs.

No Church Center restructuring (term number 3 for the same process!).

No bishops behaving badly.

No walking dead and walking wounded at the office.

No making sandwiches.

No Worship for All People.

Not that things religious won't be discussed over the weekend. Many of my Dance friends will check in with me about my ordination process. One friend and I have an ongoing conversation about rediscovering religious and spiritual roots. And handful of us from different Christian denominations will probably gather for Morning Prayer Saturday and Sunday mornings. Heck, there might even be a circle Saturday night.

Quite frankly, there are days when I can see very clearly how little the Episcopal Church and the Anglican Communion mean in the larger scheme of things--and even how very little in the smaller scheme of things. Sometimes a reality check is in order, and Dance Camp is the perfect place for that.

Peace,
Jeff

Fall Festival At Caer Leon

On a beautiful, if chilly, Fall day Sir Thomas

and Lady Eleanor

took their annual trip to Caer Leon to attend the Fall Festival hosted by King Arthur and his court. Before the King's guests could even enter the village, there was a melee at the gate.


This year's festival was complicated by the arrival of Princess Whiny (aka Princess Elaine of Carbonek) chasing after Sir Lancelot. The Princess and her father appealed to Queen Guenivere


and ultimately lost their case, which resulted in all sorts of mayhem throughout the day.

Meanwhile, guests patronized a variety of merchants plying their wares at the festival. Here is the line at the cider & donut booth. Note the variety of garb.

Half garb?

Here's a closer look at milady's footwear:

Obviously, she was not alone in her choice.

Visitors had the opportunity to test their skills at the Smite the Knight ring. This Scot had a terrific way with kids, much to the delight of the young knights in training and their parents.

Here's a closer look at the Scot's more appropriate garb, a Great Kilt:

Of course, the Scot himself is easy on the eyes!

Some of the merchants we visited included:
Black Swann Masques (The site seems to be temporarily down.)
Elan Pottery
Foresight
Mystic Images by Rook
Old Earth

Sachs & Byrne
Travel Clothing by Half Moon

= = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = =

The Connecticut Renaissance Faire was the only Renaissance Faire Rachel and I attended this summer. This year the town of Ansonia renovated the large park where the Southern Connecticut Renaissance Festival is held, so Penniforth did not make an appearance in July (and their web site seems to be down at the moment). Between our schedules and the weather, we did not make it to the Shire of Sterling at the New York Renaissance Faire in Tuxedo, New York. Work schedules will also prevent us from making a visit to King Richard's Faire in Massachusetts.

And it's not too late to start planning for next year!
The Silver Kingdom Renaissance Festival
The New Jersey Renaissance Kingdom
The Southern Connecticut Renaissance Festival
The New York Renaissance Faire
The Connecticut Renaissance Faire
King Richard's Faire

Peace,
Jeff

What Not To Wear, And Who Cares?

Shortly after I returned from lunch yesterday, Jonathan called to see if I wanted to get together for a bite after work. Or would it be too late for me in terms of getting home, if I had to wait around until he finished work? Two simple answers. Yes. No.

A while later I was in the rest room and happened to look in the mirror over the sink while washing my hands. I'd done laundry Tuesday night, and I was wearing exactly the same shirt and slacks as I'd worn Monday, the last time Jonathan and I got together for dinner. If I hadn't said anything at dinner, he wouldn't have noticed. "I'm such a guy," he said. The conversation moved on.

It has been a long time since I've had someone to talk to about music, and especially about the playing the flute. We've been playing about the same number of years, but he's had more formal training as a musician (including things like theory and composition) than I have. He's also been more intentional about practicing for the past couple of years. I'm playing catch-up. Or at least it sometimes feels like that. But it's nice to have someone to talk to about practicing.

Actually, it's nice to have someone to talk with about all sorts of stuff.

I might actually get to like this dating stuff.

Peace,
Jeff

Next Year In Anaheim?

After 15 days in Anaheim, California, last month for General Convention, and I'm already considering going back there next year. Why? Because the National Flute Association's annual convention is scheduled to be there next August--in the same hotel I stayed at for those two weeks. Any final decision on attending will depend on what is offered next year, and I'll have more to say about that later.

Saturday morning I planned on taking the 6:34 train into the City but overslept. The 7:34 arrived in Grand Central at 8:34, and I still made it to the hotel meeting room in time for the 9:00 a.m. Flute Choir Reading Session, the last one of the convention. The session had a travel theme, which the sponsoring flute choir's director put together to show how one might program a concert. One of the things I appreciated about the reading sessions was that the music folders we were given were not all one part. For the first piece you might have the first flute part, for the second fourth flute, second flute on the third piece, etc. Not only does that give participants a better feel for the music, no one gets frustrated with always "getting stuck" with the fourth flute part. I'll have to see if there are any flute choirs in our area.

At noon I attended Ivana Zahirovic's performance of flute music by Croation composers. I liked a couple of the pieces well enough to keep them in mind to look at if I ever had the opportunity to perform solo.

Next I went to the 30+ Open Amateur Masterclass with Linda Chesis. This workshop was part of a series of three organized by the NFA's Amateur Resources Committee. A Masterclass is where a student musician performs a piece of music (or a portion of it) and then a "master teacher" works with the musician to improve technique, performance, etc. Usually a small number of students are chosen by audition. At conferences and other events, Masterclasses are done in a larger venue with an audience--the Masterclass James Galway taught at convention took place in one of the ballrooms. An open class is one where people in the "audience" can volunteer to work with the teacher, or be called upon by the teacher to ask a question of their own. This particular class was specifically for amateur flutists over 30--people like me! Linda showed us how to use a drinking straw to work on airflow and articulation. She also demonstrated a more relaxed posture for playing and gave us some good ways to practice scales, exercises, and performance pieces. It was amazing to see and hear immediate results from her teaching. As a result of this workshop, I did go to the Exhibit Hall and make another purchase--a small tuner.

Here is the description for the last workshop I attended on Saturday:

Kinesthetic artist Zara Lawler, featured on Thursday’s Gala recital, gives a performance workshop on incorporating dance and story-telling into your playing.

"Interesting, I thought, I'll go see what it's like. I can always leave." Wow! Zara and dancer choreographer C. Neil Parsons performed and led workshop participants through a series of exercises that ended up with a choreographed playing of "Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star." Dancing while playing your instrument; what a concept! Storytelling in instrumental performance isn't new (think "Peter and the Wolf"), but one person doing both the narration and the playing? I came away lots of ideas for storytelling in church settings and things that might be interesting to try in contra dancing and even ballroom. Zara also contra dances--she and her partner had contra dancing at their wedding--and plays for English Country Dancing down in Greenwich Village. She was very interested in the Lavender Country and Folk Dancers second Friday dances at the LBGT Center in the City, too, so I may see her again.

I stuck around late because I wanted to go to the Cabaret Concert of the NFA Jazz Flute Big Band, which was selected through competition. Ordinarily, Jazz is not my thing, but Jonathan was one of the winners, and I figured I could go see him perform. Unfortunately, in order to catch the 12:07 p.m. train home, I had to leave the concert early and missed his solo (though I didn't know he was playing one...).

I got about four hours of sleep before getting up Sunday morning to catch the 6:34 train, so I could attend the 8:00 a.m. Targeted Strategies for Amateurs workshop led by Lisa Fahlstrom, chair of the Amateur Resources committee. More really good ideas for practice, especially when you have limited time to practice. Two of the things that stand out from the session are don't avoid the "icky stuff" (scales, etudes, and exercises), because you do need to work on technique, and play something you like and can play well last, so you can end your practice time feeling good. We also had a conversation about where to find opportunities to play. Lisa asked again and again for ideas and input for programming for amateurs at future conventions. She said that while the NFA had been founded by professional flutists, the majority of the membership consists of amateurs, even if they don't might not admit it. Her definition of an amateur? "Anyone who isn't playing the flute to pay their mortgage." I spent a couple of minutes after the workshop in conversation with Lisa, and I volunteered to participate in the Amateur Concerns Committee, which could affect my decision on whether or not to attend the convention in Anaheim next year.

Next on the schedule was a Mini Flute Spa with Patricia George. The program described it this way:

No time to practice? This participatory masterclass will explore several exercises to keep you playing well. Suitable for all ages and playing abilities.

While I learned a couple of interesting things, Patricia seemed to have designed her workshop with teachers of young flute students in mind. I did walk out of this workshop early.

I was really looking forward to Fenwik Smith's From Urtext to Your Text:

Using a Telemann Fantasy in the Bärenreiter Urtext edition, Fenwick Smith will guide you through the options of dynamics, articulation, tempo, phrasing, and style to come up with a viable and stylish “edition” of your own.

This was another mild disappointment. Fenwick was late, and it was another presentation using an overhead projector. However, because we were marking music as we worked through the Telemann Fantasy, it was probably the best way to do it, short of digital pen technology such as Canson's PaperShow, which is still in its infancy. He also allowed a couple of participants to hijack the workshop and turn it into a conversation on judging of performance competitions. I and two other participants ended up shutting that down. I did learn a little bit about looking at a piece of music before preparing it for performance, but not as much as I expected out of an hour-and-a-half workshop.

I had lunch with Jonathan both Saturday and Sunday, and we hung out together whenever our free time coincided. So often the first time you go to events like this you don't know anyone. I never travel without a book, but having someone to hang out with and talk about what was going on at the convention was really nice. Not that we spent all of our free time talking a bout the convention and flutes. We discovered some common interests outside of music. We're planning on getting together to see a movie or something when I get back from Pennsylvania.

Even though I didn't stay at the convention hotel in the City, there was still the sense of being in a different time with its own rhythm similar to the way Lavender Country and Folk Dancers Camps feel. Or any convention or multi-day gathering, I suppose. The last day is always that winding down and preparing for re-entry into the "real world." Fortunately, I'm not doing an immediate re-entry, because I'm spending the week with Scott, Maureen, and the kids.

Peace,
Jeff

Post Convention - Day 1 (Saturday) DISNEYLAND!

Saturday morning, Convention over, and we still had to get up early. Susan Bek of the Diocese of Los Angeles, with whom we worked to plan, design, and implement the Children's, Infants', and Toddlers' programs, arranged for everyone involved in the those programs and the Discovery Center to have breakfast at Club 33 and a Park Hopper ticket for the day. We gathered outside of Guest Relations beginning at 7:30 and were escorted into Disneyland, down Main Street, through Adventure Land, the French Quarter, and into Club 33 for a wonderful breakfast in a private dining room.

Here are Ruth-Ann, MerLynne, me and Kathy on the balcony of the dining room:


Followed by the obligatory outside the front door shot:


The four of us spent our day with Trudy and Joe Ardizzone, who worked tirelessly on the Discovery Center. Joe played tour guide. We got a fast pass for the Indiana Jones ride and then went here for our first ride of the day:


After years of seeing the ride on TV, beginning with the Wonderful World of Disney as a kid, I finally got to experience the Pirates of the Caribbean in person. Lots of fun, and the only ride on which we managed to get wet. From here we went to the Jungle River Cruise, which was fun mostly for the boat driver's corny jokes. Then Indiana Jones! Three rides in an hour, not bad for a sunny summer Saturday.

Then it was on to Tomorrowland for Star Tours and Astro Blasters, followed by a trip on the Monorail. And what visit to Disneyland would be complete without a visit to, yes, It's A Small World:


After a stop for Mickey ears (you thought after 49 1/2 years before getting to Disneyland I'd come home without hears?) and lunch, we exited Disneyland and went across to the plaza to California Adventure, which is built where Disney's parking lots used to be. An aborted trip to the Ferris wheel and then the California Screamin' roller coaster. By that time I was getting hot and a little crowd-weary, but we had fast passes for Soarin' over California. That was great! It also refreshed us. We had ice cream (no sugar added butter pecan for me) while watching the Pixar parade.

Back to Disneyland for the Finding Nemo submarine ride (which used to be 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea), and then our final ride for the day, the Haunted Mansion:


We were planning to leave before the fireworks, but shopping took longer than we expected, so we stayed to watch Tinkerbell and Dumbo flying over the castle along with the fireworks.

I can't believe I stayed the whole day and enjoyed it! I figured that by lunch I'd be ready to pack it in. But I really had a good time. I could go back.

Oh, one more button for the collection:


Peace,
Jeff

21st Century Birds And Bees

Go read A Birth Story - Daddy, How was I Born? over on Grandmere Mimi's Wounded Bird.

Grandmere Mimi is one of my favorite bloggers. Once when the Mad Priest asked his readers over at OCICBW which celebrities they would like to be adopted by, I posted "Elizabeth Kaeton and Grandmere Mimi."

Now go read Grandmere's blog.

Peace,
Jeff

A Birthday Excursion

As has become the custom of one group of friends for each others' birthdays, we drove off with Rachel for parts unknown. Well, unknown to her. Even when we exited I-95 in Essex, she didn't have a clue. Not until we pulled into the parking lot of the Essex Steam Train. Lisa, Mike, and I hadn't been on the train in years. Rachel never had.


We had to park in the secondary lot where we found a number of classic cars. A local car club outing was taking the same train, so by the time we reached the ticket office, we had a choice of seats in the open car right behind the engine for $3 added fare, or seats in the Parlor Car for $5. We chose the Parlor Car.


During our planning for today, Lisa, Mike and I decided to skip the riverboat combination trip on the Connecticut River, which turned out to be a good choice given the weather today.


After the train ride, we drove into downtown Essex and walked around, stopping in shops here and there as they struck our fancy. Essex is an old river town which managed to preserve managed to preserve many of its historic buildings. We walked down to the river front and watched the Connecticut River Museum's boat set sail.


Next stop was the Saybrook Country Barn to look at the various things they have to offer for the home. Until we started to get hungry and headed off to Westbrook Lobster in Clinton. I wasn't sure what to expect when we pulled into the parking lot, and less so when we walked into the dining room. We were more than pleasantly surprised. The food was excellent. All of us ate entirely too much.

In order to walk off dinner, we went to Ikea in New Haven. Lisa and Mike recently moved into their first house, so there were some things they wanted to check out. Rachel and I both enjoy wandering around the Scandinavian Superstore. We saw a couple of displays set up as small apartments and creatively furnished --one was 277 square feet. I also found a chair that I really like but have no room for in my current apartment. Someday...

Next birthdays? Mike's and Lisa's in July (AFTER I get back from General Convention!).

Peace,
Jeff

Of Growing Older

I spent the afternoon visiting an elderly friend while her husband went out for a couple of hours. They are both in their 80's, and he is the primary caretaker. It was a gift to both of them as well as to me. He appreciated some time for himself, and she appreciated having someone else to chat with. She did most of the talking and kept apologizing for doing so. I reassured her that I enjoyed listening, and for most of the afternoon it was a conversation.

In some ways the visit disturbed me. Walking into their living room gave me flashbacks to more than 20 years ago. At that time I did some part-time work for a friend who was a court-appointed conservator for elderly people with no relatives in the area (or at all). After a death, I would go into the house to sort through belongings, clean the house, supervise the removal of furniture, and send specified "effects" to heirs. The living room I walked into this afternoon reminded me of many of those homes--stacks of papers, magazines, and newspapers; dirty carpets and dusty furniture; and a musty smell. And this couple is still able to do most things for themselves.

I know she will tell me not to, but I worry about Mom. Especially after visits like this afternoon's. I don't want to be one of those children who doesn't have time to regularly visit their parents. I don't want to arrive at her home one day and see piles of stuff gathering dust on unvacumed floors. I know that as the older son, I will probably end up as the primary caretaker. And you know what, that's okay. I want Mom to be as independent as possible for as long as possible, even if that means I have to figure out how to find a place big enough for her, my stepfather (he might as well be...), and me.

I also worry about me. When I got home this evening, I immediately cleaned up the couple of stacks of things around my apartment. The only stack left is the "working pile" on my desk, which I go through about once a month to clear out anything that needs to be filed, tossed, or dealt with. I don't want to be one of those people living surrounded by piles of stuff. It scares me a little to think that I could easily become one. I wonder, as a single person with no children, who will take care of me when I get to that stage of life?

All of which leads me to wonder, where is the church in all of this? Isn't this one of the things we should be doing, caring for our elders, our wise ones, those who have cared for us over the years?

Peace,
Jeff

An Oasis Of Crosses

Working for a church organization does have its advantages. We can have a Christmas party in December. We have the opportunity to attend Morning Prayer and a noon Eucharist every day. Employees don't have to worry about displaying symbols of their faith. One of my colleagues is Native American. She decorated her cubical with some sacred objects and beautiful artwork with Native spirituality themes. I have my prayer corner.

I do not perform any work in this corner of my cubicle. This is where I pray, meditate, and reflect. You can see a Book of Common Prayer, a Bible, prayer cards, pictures of sacred sites, and of course, my collection of crosses--though not all of it.

I bought this "Elements Cross" in the bookstore at the retreat center where the Evangelism & Congregational Life Center had it first retreat together after the reorganization. The carved designs represent the four elements of Earth, Air, Fire, and Water.

Not everything hanging in this corner is a cross. To the left of this cross you can see half of a medallion depicting St. Brigid of Ireland. If you look closely at the picture of my corner, you can find a pewter coyote, a pair of beeswax candles, and a small crystal a friend brought back from her time with John of God in Brazil.

I found the cross on the left, along with another small one, in my desk drawer when I began working at the Church Center. One of my colleagues said they were leftover giveaways from some part of previous Episcopal Youth Events. The middle ceramic Celtic Cross I bought during my first trip to Ireland. I usually try to buy work by local artists when I travel, and I brought several back to give to friends. On the far right is a "Preaching Cross" I purchased at General Convention 2006 in Columbus, OH. I haven't yet worn it when preaching.

A couple of years ago I participated in an ecumenical gathering of educators to work on an antiracism/multicultural curriculum for children. During our closing worship, each of us received one of the small crosses here on the left.

Bishop Riah, the previous Bishop of Jerusalem, gave me the olive wood Jerusalem Cross at "Will Our Faith Have Children?" in February 2003. That was the conference when everyone was afraid we wouldn't be able to get to Chicago in February. Instead, we got stuck at the end of the conference because a major snowstorm hit the East Coast.

My colleague Ruth-Ann gave me this ceramic crucifix during our first trip to the Dominican Republic for a meeting of the Episcopal Council for Christian Education. It was at that meeting enough people spoke to her about applying for the Staff Officer for Children's Ministries & Christian Education position at the Church Center. She served in that position, which made her my boss, for one year--until the reorganization. Now she is a valued colleague and a dear friend.

Because of my corner, colleagues often bring back crosses when they travel. This simple wooden cross came back from the Philippines when my colleague and friend Angie visited her family there after attending an Asian Ministries conference in Taiwan. She also brought back a traditional shirt, which I hope to be able to wear by the time Summer begins.

This large mosaic cross was made for me by a member of the Episcopal Council for Christian Education as a "thank you and farewell" gift after the reorganization took me out of Children's Ministries. By the time she brought it to me my boss had moved me into the Children's Formation position, so it became a "welcome back, we missed you" gift.

If you look to the right of this one in the picture of my corner, you'll see one made of Tinker Toys (the new plastic ones). We made them during a meeting of the Episcopal Council for Christian Education on Long Island a couple of years ago.




The latest addition to my collection is this small Ethiopian Cross. My colleague Clay brought it back from his pilgrimage to Ethiopia at the end of January. He has wonderful stories, and we are all waiting for his written "report."

This cross was cast in silver alloy using the lost wax method. It is designed to go on a staff, but as it's only about 6" tall, it isn't a Processional Cross. Although, I've seen some on the Internet that aren't much bigger called "Small Processional Crosses," and looking at pictures of Ethiopian priests carrying crosses (that are not the hand crosses), you can see a wide variety of sizes.



Peace,
Jeff
(12)

New Boxes

I finished three more boxes. They were among the things that I scrambled to move out of the way of the water during the plumbing mishap the other week. I had the various pieces spread out on the floor to dry after applying a coat of paint.

This is Mom's birthday present. Obviously, I didn't finish it in time for her birthday. Since I gave it to her about halfway between her birthday and Christmas, I wrote "Meppy Birthmas! Or is that Harry Chrisday?" in the card. The image is from a painting of the Madonna and Child portrayed as Native Americans. The body of the box is a darker shade of purple, and I chose the colors to fit in her prayer space--not to mention that purple is one of her favorite colors.


This one I made for Lois. I didn't have to tell her that the picture is of Julian of Norwich.


I made this one for my friend Rachel. The picture shows a sacred well in a forest setting.


Each box contained two white tea lights and a fabric square to be used as an altar cloth. There is room for other sacred objects to be placed in the box--portable sacred space.

I have one more started and four waiting for ideas.

Peace,
Jeff

Where I Spent--And Didn't Spend--My Weekend

Early Friday afternoon I packed the car, filled the gas tank, and headed up Route 8 to Becket, Massachusetts. Over 130 lgbt, and a handful of straight friends, gathered for the Lavender Country and Folk Dancers Fall Dance Camp at Chimney Corners. Lisa Greenleaf was the caller, and the Groovemongers provided the music. I came home late Sunday afternoon with sore feet and ready for bed.

I did not attend the reunion activities of the Darien High School Class of 1978: the Homecoming game and the gathering at Wee Burn Country Club.

While it would have been fun catching up with my classmates after 10 years (we have not been together since our 20th reunion in 1998), the Dance Camp community is more important to me. I have missed only two camps over the last 15 years. These are the people I share common interests and values with. These are the folks who nurture me. These are the friends who accept me as I am. This is the community that renews and refreshes me.

For some reason, this camp turned out to be a bit different for me personally. I was not self-conscious about my body. I'm a good dancer, and that's what counts on the dance floor. I'm a good person and friend, and that's what counts with this community. It was also freeing in other ways. I found that I was not my usually shy self. If I wanted to ask someone to dance, I did, and was only turned down if the person had already been asked to dance for that dance. I flirted with several people when we weren't on the dance floor. It was like I was fully present for the first time in a long time.

This dance community is the people I am growing--and growing older--with. The DHS Class of 1978 is frozen in time, in snapshots taken in 1978, 1988, 1998, and now 2008. If the class' next reunion and Fall dance camp fall on the same weekend again, I know where I will be.

Peace,
Jeffri

A Week By The Lake

I spent last week in Burlington, Vermont at the Bishop Booth Conference Center meeting with the Episcopal Council for Christian Education (ECCE). I drove up, which was a nostalgic experience. We spent some of our family vacations in Vermont while I was growing up, so I drove by a lot of familiar places--if only the names. The Conference Center sits on the shores of Lake Champlain.

ECCE meetings can exhaust me, but once I recover from the meeting itself, the experience energizes me. These folks--two representatives from each Province of the Episcopal Church--are my network, my "peeps," as my nephews would say. They keep me sane in the ever-changing mess that seems to be the Church Center these days. These people, along with their peers across the church, are the reason I have not walked out the door these past six months. They do incredible work, and I am proud to be their colleague.

At every ECCE meeting we try to provide a development component. This time a former ECCE member did a four hour workshop over two days on the Enneagram Types. The organization he works with is the Enneagram Institute. If you want to find out more about what we learned, you can visit their web site. I am Type 6 - The Loyalist. And this surprises us how? I know people get very caught up in this kind of thing, as also happens with the Myers-Briggs typing that runs rampant through the Episcopal Church. These are tools we can use to help understand ourselves. But each is only one kind of tool. They are not the be all and end all. Not every tool works for every person. Here endeth the lecture.

The ECCE meeting ended at lunchtime on Thursday, and three people heading to the Los Angeles for another meeting were staying over until Friday morning. Ruth-Ann and I stayed as well so that we could spend some time with them to prepare them for the meeting, which we are not attending due to travel restrictions based on budget issues. Before that meeting, however, we needed a break. Even in as lovely a setting as the shore of Lake Champlain in the Fall, you need to get out and have a change of scenery.

Our first stop was the Vermont Teddy Bear Company's Factory and Bear Shop.



We did the tourist thing and took the picture. This is Cindy from the Diocese of Olympia, Nancy from the Diocese of Northern California, me, and my friend MerLynne from the Diocese of Minnesota.

We took the tour.

This is the stuffing station.

We saw lots of bears and outfits.

This is a Renaissance Bear in the custom workshop.

Ruth-Ann bought a bear as a Christmas present for her grandson.

And yes, I came home with a bear.

How could I leave him there? He's purple. (Well, they call it amethyst, but he's purple!)

After a short stop at the cathedral bookshop, we spent the rest of the afternoon wandering up and down Church Street, which is pedestrian street in downtown Burlington. We had dinner at Three Tomatoes and then drove back to the Conference Center to have our meeting.

Friday was a travel day, which for Ruth-Ann and me, consisted of a 5 1/2 hour drive back down to Connecticut. Ruth-Ann the continued on the Port Jefferson Ferry to Long Island. It was a beautiful day for a drive, but when I got home, my body pretty much said "you're done now," and I slept for 12 hours Friday night.

Tomorrow, back into the... office.

Peace,
Jeffri

A Blast From The Past

Thursday evening I met my friend Amy for dinner at the Dry Dock Cafe in Norwalk. It had been a while since we'd spent some time together, and we figured it was time. When we sat at the table, the first thing Amy did, after giving me a big hug, was hand me a picture. She found it amongst the collection of a friend whose estate she is handling, and she wanted me to have it.

"That's not Tom Haydock, is it?" I asked, trying to remember if Tom and I had ever been involved in anything at the Wilton Playshop together and realizing at the same time that it wasn't Tom.

"No, it's Guy Allred." She replied.

"Oh, wow. This must be twenty years or so ago. I have hair, a mustache and about 100 fewer pounds."

"I found another picture from my wedding of Quentin with Guy, X, and Y. Only _____ is still alive."

Cancer claimed Quentin, Amy's ex husband, a year or so ago. AIDS took Guy and X from us long before that.

But it was not a sad occasion. The picture brought back lots of good memories. It was taken during the cast party after a show at the Wilton Playshop that I no longer remember--I occasionally helped out as stage crew. Guy and I are sitting (well, leaning against some piece of furniture) and smiling for the whoever took the picture. I was very attracted to Guy, even though blonds are not usually my "type." Not to mention that Brian and I were a couple at that point in time, and I would not even have considered getting involved with Guy, nor he with me.

Brian, now ex, is nowhere in evidence in the picture. That often happened at parties we went to. One of my fellow Connecticut Choraliers once remarked, "You know, whenever we have a party, if one of you comes into a room, the other one leaves." It was never intentional, and neither of us realized that happened. We simply both mingled with the people we knew at these parties, and we never felt the need to constantly be at each other's side. Of course, looking back, one wonders...

From there, our conversation moved on to other people we had both known at the Playshop and in the Choraliers and then on to catching up with recent events in our lives.

Amy's small gift evokes happy memories of a time when my life was different and of friends who have gone on. And I suppose that it is not a coincidence that this year's theme for our Education for Ministry spiritual autobiographies is "Pictures."

Peace,
Jeffri

Finally, It's Done!

My friend Rob was ordained to the priesthood on December 16, 2006. It has taken me nearly two years, but I finally finished his ordination gift. I just don't watch as much television as I used to.

The entire stole is done in double crochet stitch, with a single crochet edging:

Here are close ups of the individual panels.

The center panel with Rob's initials and ordination date:

Cross Botonnee:

Jerusalem Cross:

Celtic Cross:

Crosslet:

Calvary Cross:

St. Andrew's Cross:

Roman Cross:

Peace,
Jeffri