Hello, kitchen.
It was nice to be out of the kitchen while I was on my mini-retreat at the Villa Maria. For $45 I got 24 hours worth of peace, quiet, contemplation, beautiful vistas and three meals I didn't have to cook.
All the nuns I've ever known have eaten very well. While I was sitting in the Villa library, delicious smells would waft up from the basement kitchen. Meals were served buffet style and the choices were simple and healthy. The main culinary delight I discovered, unexpectedly, was just how good walnuts are on a bowl of creamy, institutional oatmeal. I don't know why it has never occurred to me to put walnuts on oatmeal before. I've wanted to find a way to include more of them in my diet and now I have--answer to one small prayer.
When I arrived the administrative assisstant led me to my sparsely furnished room, showed me the bathroom facilities, clued me in on meal times, and then I was left blissfully alone for the entire time. I made up one of the twin beds with the sheets & blanket provided, and gave in almost immediately to the desire to nap. Thanks to my husband, I'd had a scary dream the night before about a menacing, spectral figure in the bed across from mine rising up in the middle of the night to choke me, but in reality no ghosts made an appearance.
Bloody mayhem did break out at home, however, while I was gone. All last week we could hear the scritching-scratching, thump-thump of some critter stuck behind the wall of Kipp's bedroom. We waited, but the thing, or things, just couldn't seem to get out. Finally, Dean cut a hole in the wall, took a look with a flashlight, and was confronted by six pairs of beady eyes--a whole nest of baby red squirrels. Desperate to leave the nest, the first one popped right out of the hole in the wall, scaring the pants off Kipp who went into immediate hysterics (so they tell me). But Seneca was on the case, with his tail wagging. Those poor squirrels didn't stand a chance. The original plan was for Dean to fish them out, with leather gloves on, but he had no choice except to leave it to the canine expert, once they all started hopping out. Seneca was so proud of his efficient handiwork. I will spare you the lovely digital image of the dead creatures, but here's one of Senny at his post.
11:09:35 PM 
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