And just like that...here we are....

​It is Sunday afternoon and I am sitting on the couch, watching a youtube video of a dog sleeping in front of a fire. The dog looks pretty darn content in their massive bed that features a prominent LL Bean logo, so I can only assume it is an advertisement for dog beds, and LL Bean in general.  Thanks algorithm!  We got a puppy the day before Thanksgiving Sunday (which is the Sunday before ​Thanksgiving if you are in church) and I have been looking up vids to help her get settled. The dog on the video is some kind of labrador retriever. The puppy is half-lab.  Maybe she will take some lying down lessons...

Of course it isn't Thanksgiving anymore. Advent started this very day!  I have to say that it took me a bit by surprise this year. We had that extra Sunday--November 26--which our church went ahead and cancelled.  However, I didn't rest exactly. There was that puppy,...and work...and the usual drama of life that left me almost completely unaware of the looming crisis of December holidays.  

What snapped me out of it was an invitation to a party on December 1.  This important date is, of course, the beginning of secular Advent. We mark the first of December by opening the first door on our calendars to get our daily chocolate or scotch, or whatever the person who gives us the calendars chose this year.  Anyway, a clergy friend held a party on December 1 to kick things off and I had to bring something.  This meant that--between dog walks--I was forced to turn on the Christmas music and make my first fruitcake of the season. This bake included the very last of the cranberry compote from Thanksgiving dinner.  The loaf I saved and "tested" for the party was pretty OK. I hope people liked the other one.

I don't have much to say about the holiday today.  However, I wanted to check in.  Advent is one of my favorite times of year and I try to give it the respect it deserves by not lurching directly to Christmas.  It is ironic, but being a church person means less Christmas, not more.  I like it that way.  It keeps everything in its time.

That said I have some Advent "gifts" for you.  Don't get excited!  They are all virtual. Also, it includes the "Yule Dog" which I didn't make and don't really endorse in any meaningful sense.

So here is the link to my "fruitcake" recipe.  I use it every year and give them away as much as possible.  Then I stop when I feel like it.  That moment usually arrives before Epiphany.  Also, below you will find my "Advent prayer" from this morning.  It is really kind of a meditation, but whatever. We had our annual sanctuary lighting today--which involves lots of readings and open flame--then we had communion.  The meditation here closed communion, which was fine.

So the video of the dog by the fire continues.  While I was writing this, the bottom half of a person came in with a classy LL Bean log-carrier, stoked the fire, and returned to pet the dog and drop off their snowy boots.  The boots, of course, are those super-ugly-and-uncomfortable "Bean Boots" that were the bane of my childhood.  I bet the dog is named after the Chesapeake Bay.  I remember lots of "Chessies" growing up.  This is the sort of set-up they would like. It kinda makes me wish I had a fireplace...and a scratchy wool blanket...and that it was snowing.

OMG!  The "dog owner" is back wearing LL Bean slippers and stoking the fire with a bespoke fire poker!  This is about as much excitement as I can handle on a Sunday afternoon in the rain.

Anyway, here is the prayer.  I need to walk my dog, who is named after a mountain in New Hampshire, which is totally different from being named after a bay in Maryland...

Advent Prayer 2023
Adam Tierney-Eliot

It doesn't start with a star
It doesn't start with hallelujahs
        and amens
It starts with stumbling through
         the dark
It starts all too frequently with loss
         oppression and
         the rocky road to nothing

Then we begin
         with a moment of desperation
         on our knees
With  crying out and  wondering if
         if our cries will be heard at all

And then it starts
        with the hands that lift us up
         brush us off
         feed us, even, and walk us into the day
We may be too tired to notice
         these hands but
         they are there
Each caring hand
         the hand of God and
         the human hands
​                        of human hope
We shudder to turn these hands to violence
We resist using them
         for selfish ends

​Advent does not begin with a star
         or an angel
         or a hymn
but begins with us
        in communion with humanity
Advent begins as stillness
  In the chaos and
                 then the stillness grows

This morning I started my pies.  You probably know why. Tomorrow is Thanksgiving and there is lots to do.  We have hosted for years and--as the primary-but-no-longer-sole cook--I have a system.  With certain exceptions, the preparation for the meal goes in reverse order of consumption, which means desert first.  

Anyway, my son--who will be ultimately responsible for this dish--brought home a splendid butternut squash and some sweet potatoes from the farm where he works.  My task this morning was to reduce them to a puree for later assembly.  I have the Christmas music on.  It's somebody's attempt to reconstruct the Grant's Department Store albums on Spotify. I am mindful of the peeling and the roasting.  I am making a list of things we forgot to get in the first (and second and third) run to the grocery store.  Johnny Mathis is singing O Holy Night. I am inhabiting the holidays...yet I am also not.

I am not entirely feeling festive this year.  You see, it is a dark time in the world and it seems weird in some way to be grateful when so much is going to Hell in a hand basket.  The holidays are like that.  Even in times that seem somewhat better than this one, there is conflict.  There is pain. There is the fact ​that not everything works out the way we would hope.

Now, there is actually a way to celebrate what we have and to mourn what is missing at the same time. It takes courage, like so many things, but it's worth trying. An act of thanks in a time of oppression and evil--in a time of crises and conflict--is an act of resistance.  It is a moment where we contemplate the vastness and decide that "the Man"--those principalities and powers of our society--isn't going to get us this time.  We are stating that in the midst of struggles--whatever they may be--we will be broad-minded and open-hearted against the forces of fearful self-interest.

There is strength in looking at the vastness.  There is strength in prayer, which is really what we are talking about.
There is strength in understanding our role as part of the ecosystem writ large. This practice encourages us to set aside our own issues.  Nan Merrill's translation of Psalm 146 tell us to "Put not your trust in riches, in illusory things that fade away. For when our day comes to depart this world, at that very time, we carry only the love imprinted on our soul." That is what all this holiday-making--all this risk taking--is about.

Or, at least, that is the goal. It requires some practice. It also requires some higher order thinking to say “yes, I am grateful…but”. We are grateful but…not all is right in the world. Not all is right in our lives. We are grateful but…when we look over this broken earth, the blessings are imbalanced. Though we may be pleased with what we have, we see that there is work to be done. 

This “yes, but” is as much a “yes and” approach familiar to anyone who has ever done improv.  For in our gratitude, we are motivated to action.  This is an essential element of the move, actually.  So many people want to escape during the holidays.  So many center their own narrative and miss the opportunity to reach out.  Thanksgiving in particular is susceptible to this. As is perhaps inevitable in a secular holiday with a religious theme, our “attitude of gratitude” has too often been an act of self-congratulation masquerading as humility.

For example, as children we learned the holiday’s creation myth--all that stuff about the Pilgrims and the Native-Americans gathering together in peace--as history.  At best it is a white-washed mashup of complex events in the midst of a clash of cultures.  That “First Thanksgiving” myth was--and still is--used to prop a distinctly American theology.  It is used to privilege and elevate the story of European Americans and legitimate colonialism in the so-called “New” World.  Now, theoretically, we know better.  Still, we feel the impact of this story and of how we learned it every day.

Here is another example. It is also hard not to veer into self-congratulation in a celebration of the ability to lay out a table of more food than we can eat. When we do this, we are celebrating our riches in gratitude for a harvest that we did not bring about. We celebrate our ability to store up food for a winter that–thanks to the trappings of our suburban society–will not be a time of scarcity for most of us, after all.

We don’t want to be like that. We also know that we don’t have to be. There is a way--through honest prayer--to be grateful and still acknowledge the depth of pain in the world, in our bodies, and in our hearts. There is a way to atone, somewhat, and commit to the struggle. There is a way to bring about a better life and a better world that we can celebrate next holiday season.

Every year I share a prayer by Theodore Parker with the church.  It is called "Trials". It may not be the best prayer ever–At least artistically–but it is an authentic one. Parker was a transcendentalist, 
and a Unitarian minister who was ostracized by his fellow Unitarian clergy because of his radicalism. He had personal struggles, too. Many of those struggles had to do with his health.  He died young at 50 years of age, right before the Civil War.

In this prayer he mixed his gratefulness with the reality of his situation, facing imperfection and acknowledging responsibility. In it he speaks into where he feels he has failed. He notes the suffering he has endured but…he still ends in thanks.  He still finds reasons for gratitude.

For all the trials of my earlier day
I thank thee that they all have been
That darkness lay about the rugged way
Which I must tread alone.  For all I’ve seen
Of disappointment, sorrow, pain, and loss
I thank thee for them all. And did I sin,
I grieve not I’ve been tried; for e’en the cross
Of penitience has taught me how to win.
Yet of ills as child or man I’ve borne--
My hopes laid waste, or friends sent off by death,--
Remorse has most of all my boson torn
For time misspent ill deeds or evil breath.
But yet, for every grief my heart has worn,
God I thank thee still, trusting with a hearty faith.

So that is where we are this year. In a world of trouble and pain. We live in a world in need of our humility and our strength.  We live in a world in need of our joy and our gratitude. We need to give these things even in the face of all that has happened and all that will happen in the quest for the just and peaceful Kin-dom.

Today, I am done with the squash. I have the turducken almost thawed out. I am making plans in future days to eat both of these dishes and more besides until they are gone.  We will not wear ties to dinner tomorrow.  Things will be more casual.  Maybe--for a little while--we might talk about religion and politics until we can't deal anymore. Then next week, having been grateful for the many things we should be grateful for and having acknowledged the hard truths--or as many as we can--we will turn back to the dream of making a better world.  After all, we will have Advent to remind us, right?

May we see the imperfect world and resist despair by giving thanks for the victories, the love, and the tools for the new journey that empower us to good work and enable us to move forward once again.

I may be posting a bit more about music and other things for a while.  It is hunting season here in New England, so my hiking has been limited to suburban trails. They are pretty of course.  They may not really be post-worthy, however. I do stay away from many of the wilder places during this time, particularly during the week. Some hunter has taken time off from work on a weekday to head on out to do their thing.  They shouldn't have to worry about me or I about them.  The season will end soon enough, and the winter climbs can begin.

Also, I am swamped at work.  The holidays are here. The church is down both an intern/assistant minister and a church administrator.  It is just me right now.  There is so very much to do.  Among the things to do, though, is plan for holiday music. The Liturgical Folk Band has been busy playing for our experimental "Second Sunday" services.  In fact, as we tweak the format in other ways, I would say the band has been a point of stability for us. That hasn't always been the case in the past, so it is nice.

I have written about folk music in the church before, so my plan here was to keep it brief and leave you with some links at the end.  I failed.

I just want to comment for a moment on the folk element of the term.  Folk Music is what folks do.  In an often-professionalized world we have grown accustomed to leaving to professionals things that have for the vast majority of human existence been something that is done by amateurs.  Music is only one example of this.  Even in the genre we are discussing, a "folksinger" is more often than not somebody we pay. We go see them in cozy concert halls, or we buy their music.  The performance is (hopefully) of a monetizable quality. 

Interestingly enough, many professional musicians are trying to leave the term "folk" to the amateurs.  Some performers of original works now lean toward "singer-songwriter" for what they do.  Performers of actual folk tend toward the terms "Old Time" or "World Music" to describe what they do.  That is nice of them.  They at least recognize that part of their job is to popularize works that others can replicate at home.  That is, they are empowering people to keep on doing folk-art.

I bring this up because being just OK at something doesn't mean we cannot enjoy doing it.  It doesn't mean we cannot share it either.  If we just relied on professional athletes, there wouldn't be pickup basketball. If we just relied on professional artists, then we wouldn't have the rich world of creativity that we need for our culture to thrive.  When you see videos of us playing, I want you to understand that we know how good--or not good--we are.  The point is that everyone has a place to create.

So...what do you do if you would like to take your place as one of the folk in folk music?  All you have to do is find an instrument and make some noise. 

If you want a little more direction, here are some thoughts....

Start with What You Used to Play! This should be obvious but somehow it isn't always.  There are no rules for what an actual folk musician can play.  Yes, the acoustic guitar is ubiquitous among the professionals.  However, that has to do with what is marketable. You aren't shooting for a recording contract.  You don't care what "the Man" thinks about your music! Did you play clarinet and you still have it?  That works.  The trick is just to find ways to be creative with it when you are playing with others.  That takes time, but it should be fun time.

Start with What might be fun!  What instrument did you always think sounded cool?  That is a good place to start.  Think about what sort of sound you think you could make.  What sound would you like to make? 

Pick Something You Will Stick To! For some people that will an instrument that is easy to get going on but hard to get good on, like the ukulele or the autoharp.  For others it may be something that is hard to get started on but you get progressively better over time.  You have to want to practice.  However, remember that in amateur folk music practice isn't so much practice as "jamming-with-yourself".  You should enjoy it.  Remember to measure success not by how proficient you are but by how much fun you are having.

Pick Something Different! OK, say you want to play with people and this is your big goal.  If this is the case then I want to say something that might be considered controversial in some quarters.  Pick an instrument that other people don't play.  Over the last half-century, the go-to instrument has been guitar.  Whay has this been the case?  Take a look at my previous suggestions.  People frequently play guitar as a kid. Parents like the idea and pay for lessons. It replicates the sound of a ton of great music performed by professional musicians and released to a breathless public.  Finally, with a few quick chords, you can play along to almost anything.  

However, because of this, if you want to get your pals together to jam you will have no shortage of three-chord guitar warriors keeping the beat.  Most of them will be thinking about how much cooler they would sound with a little variety.

This is where you come in.  How about something that sounds different? I play guitar but when I get together to play with people nobody has ever asked me to play it.  The reason is there are already plenty of guitars in the lineup.  Instead, they ask if I could play some other instrument.

Here are the ones I play: Voice, Mandolin, Ukulele, Tenor Banjo, Bones.

Here are some I always wish somebody else would play: Bass, Autoharp, 5-String Banjo, Drums, Whistles, Fiddle

Anyway, knock yourself out.  There is a learning curve to these instruments just like guitar.  Also, as you learn, you will be noticeable.  Still, you shouldn't worry about mistakes.  My experience is that all the guitar players are just happy you are there.

OK, that is it.  My music update plus some stuff.  Enjoy the vids. Here is the link to the "Music and Arts" section which--as I mentioned--should be growing over the winter.

Things have truly been hectic at church.  However, I am enjoying looking back at old hikes as I plan new ones for the future.  Truthfully, the way things are going it may be a while before I head up north again.  Of course, the mountains will be there...and I will bring snowshoes!

As with the previous hikes, some of these hikes have longer posts, which I have linked in the descriptions...

Monroe and Washington  #27 & #28
Longer Post

This trip combined one of my favorite mountains--Monroe--with one of my least favorite...Washington.  This has nothing to do with the relative ease of the climb.  Honestly, while Washington is indeed the tallest.  It isn't much taller than its neighbors.  All the Presidents are big piles of slag. The longer post tells a bit about why I would climb Monroe again...and just look at Washington from there.  This trip helped me refine what I like and don't like about hiking.

​Madison and Adams #31 & #32

This was the hardest hike we did in the Whites.  I have tried to write about it before but just haven't been able to grasp its weight.  Adams is the second tallest mountain on the 48 list and Madison is the fifth tallest.  For comparison, Washington is first, Jefferson is third, and Monroe is fourth.  All of these are pretty much the same height if you are climbing them.  They all hurt, too.

What I do remember is a massive amount of exertion. I had been climbing every day that week--mostly 52WAV mountains--so I was in good shape, but also a bit tired.  That said it was beautiful and I enjoyed the time spent in nature with my brother Dan and my wife Allison.  I would do this again, but only climb one peak per trip.

A few things happened on this hike that are worth mentioning.  First, we were given stern warning at the base of the trail.  This is an unreasonably difficult hike for its level of popularity.  The rangers know this and want to make sure that the people going up know what they are doing.  After that we encountered an entire dog-and-pony show of an influencer, her friends, and some poor guy who actually had to take the pictures.  I think they thought we should know who they were...but we were too old.  They were a bit much, so we got ahead of them as quickly as possible at one of their many stops.

Finally, on the way down the mountain we passed a number of people who should have listened more closely to the rangers.  They were struggling mightily. It was a good reminder that sometimes we think more highly of our abilities than we should.  Humility is a must in the White Mountains.

Lincoln and Lafayette #33 & #34

Mount Monadnock--on the 52 WAV list--may be the second most climbed mountain in the world (after Mt. Fuji) but I have to say that these two peaks have to be up there as well.  They bookend a fabulous section of Franconia Ridge that features breathtaking views all around.  As with Mount Washington, though, I found it too crowded for my taste.  This may be why I did not write a longer post for this hike.  I am glad I did it.  However, there are mountains I would rather climb.

The climb up Lincoln was typical New England.  There we very few switchbacks, just a steep incline that got steeper with time.  The hike goes over Little Haystack--"little" is a misnomer--then up to Lincoln.  The views were indeed spectacular and there were certainly plenty of folks to share them with.  Then came the walk across the ridge to Lafayette, hitting a couple smaller peaks on the way.  The way down was less direct than the way up, presenting a number of different views forward and back before finally dipping into the trees.  I think if I could have found a day just as pleasant with fewer people I would have been more into it.  However, I don't think such a day exists.

HIKED ON 6/19/23 and 6/20/23

Really, in a perfect world this would be our final hike of the NH 48 4,000 Footer list.  That isn't how it worked out.  However, it was beautiful.  It was also the last of my hiking videos before life got in the way.  That and recording got in the way of hiking (sigh).  So, I am mostly just embedding that video here.  It should be noted that we crossed of Mount Zealand for the second time and experienced the revelation of beautiful Mount Guyot, which isn't on anybody's list.  It may be my favorite mountain.  It took quite a bit of effort to get there but the reward was great.

So here is the second group of hikes for my New Hampshire 48 4,000 footers.  As I mentioned in the first installment, I started the project before I should have.  These hikes, however, mark the transition from rehab to hobby. I was getting stronger. I also was climbing many other mountains when I could.  I took every opportunity I could get to head out on the trail in Massachusetts.  Also, I would run up to New Hampshire or Maine to climb smaller things when time would allow.  Many of those hikes are documented here in Sabbath Walks.  Perhaps this information will help explain the growing gaps between 48ers.

It also indicates something of my hiking style.  Most of my other hikes were solo endeavors.  On the 48 list, however, I usually had at least one companion.  The mix worked out well, I think.

As with last time I have linked to longer posts on specific hikes when possible and wrote a bit longer where I don't have any other supporting material.  I couldn't always find the time to write, after all. Life has a way of being lived...

Osceola and East Osceola #11 & #12
(October 4, 2021)
Longer Post
​I really loved this hike.  My brother Dan joined me, which gave the whole thing the feel of a family reunion in the wake of Covid.  I also wiped out and broke a pole by landing on it.  The long post has the deets.
​

Zealand  #13 (October 7, 2021)
Video (ZBonds Traverse)
This has to be among my favorite hikes.  I have hiked it once since--the video link tells the story--but I can see myself heading up to the cliffs in the future just to take in the view.  It was one of the first climbs I enjoyed for itself.  The process of rehab was far enough along to drift into the background a bit.

Flume #14 (November 11, 2021)
I have no real documentary evidence of this hike up Osseo trail.  This is strange as I really loved it.  The climb was relatively gentle. Allison and I spent time at the top eating snacks and watching the world go by.  On the way down we encountered the honor guard with an enormous American flag.  Flags on the 48 usually has events on September 11.  That year someone was doing something on November 11, too. They looked tired but determined to get to the top in time!

Osseo Trail is the "easy" way up. There is also a slide.  The thing about slides is that you get a fabulous and continuous view while raising the difficulty level a few notches.  I was in no shape for Flume Slide and the hike was so pretty I would probably do it the same way again.

North Kinsman #15 (December 4, 2021)
Longer Post
​The long post here actually records our second summit, which included South Kinsman.  We failed to get to that mountain the first time.  We started later than Al and I usually do and there wasn't really the time to make it out and back before dark.  After hitting the peak of North, we decided to turn around.  Hikers often remind ourselves that getting to the top is optional and getting back to the car is mandatory. Still...it was frustrating.  The good news, though, is that the mountains don't go anywhere.

Liberty #16 (January 16, 2022)
Longer Post
​It was dangerously cold that day.  We got up early and I had trouble moderating my heat.  That said, the hike was beautiful.  There were some folks using the mountain as a massive sled run--buttsliding--which is controversial.  However, after everything ices over it may be the only way down.  This was my favorite hike of the winter.  The long post explains it pretty well.

North and South Hancock #17 & #18
(February 11, 2022)

Here is another hike without any documentation. In this case I know why.  I was so depressed about the steep climb and the deep snow.  A quick butt-slide off South Hancock cheered me up but...still... 

Also, we did this one morning during our annual church ski retreat.  We probably weren't as well-rested as we could have been.

Now I enjoy winter hiking and did quite a bit of it this past winter (2023).  However, I like to keep my hikes a bit more manageable so I can enjoy the views and the weather while also getting home and warm.  Those hikes can be found in other sections--and in the Tecumseh video--as the shorter, more local hikes in the snow fit the bill for me.  Allison reminds me that the Hancocks are supposed to be easier in winter because the trail conditions aren't so great the rest of the year.  Whatever... ​

South Kinsman  #19 (May 7, 2022)
Longer Post
​This is the same long post as North Kinsman.  I loved this second hike with South being one of my favorites.  There was no sadness or defeat this time.  We took the same route over North and then on from where we turned around before.  

I have been out and about lately, as some of you know.  Church is hopping.  There have been crises large and small to deal with.  Life just gets ahead of me sometimes, as it does for everyone.  That said, I have also been hiking!  This week, in fact, I made my way up Pamola Peak, down the Chimney, over South Peak along the Knife Edge, and on to Baxter Peak all on Mount Katahdin.  I hope to post about that at some point.  Many things went wrong but...the Knife Edge was a bucket list item for me.

In my few spare moments, though, I have been filling out my application for the NH48 4,000 Footers Club.  Yes, there is an application process to join.  Obviously one can hike all the mountains, become a "48er" and never make it "official".   That said, I think it would be fun.  There is a dinner at some point...and a patch. Also, it is an accomplishment with a set beginning and a set ending. In a life and job where one thing just flows into another as Sundays and seasons roll right along, there is comfort that in this, at least, there is a piece of paper in a file somewhere that said I did a thing.

​The application includes lists of names and dates.  It also includes a narrative.  It seems like low-hanging fruit to post the narrative here...with slight enhancements since the actual report is rather dry.

Narrative: Mount Carrigain
Hiked on 8/27/23   #48/48

I found this final mountain to be fairly straightforward when compared to the ones I had climbed most recently.  Mount Isolation had been my 47th, for example and that turned into a bit of an adventure.  That was fine, though, I was finally–after waiting about a month–able to find a reasonable day for an ascent.  My companion on this hike was my wife, Allison Nelson-Eliot, who finished her 48 on that aforementioned Isolation hike. That was hard to schedule, too.  The rain has been an epic reminder of the strain we have placed on this "dying" Earth.

It is probably worth noting that I hiked most of my mountains with Allison but her application will contain some different dates from mine as she repeated some mountains with me after she did them the first time. As we waited for at least some of the water to run off Isolation she climbed with me.  That meant second summit for her on Pierce, Eisenhower, Hale and others.  I also introduced her to some of the "52 With a View" mountains that I love.

We did this hike as an out-and-back via the Signal Ridge Trail.  It took us about 8 hours including rests and a celebratory stop at the fire tower/viewing deck on the summit.  The hike itself was a bit of a slog.  An early commitment to flatness disappears to be replaced by a steady–sometimes steep–incline strewn with those awkward granite boulders so common in northern New England.  We cursed the hike many times until we reached the actual Signal Ridge.  As I noted, it had been a month since any serious climbing had occurred.  Then–even though cloud cover obscured the view at times–our mood improved.  There is something about seeing the end-point for so long that really gets you going!

​I am a people-person and–as with many hikes I have taken–I fell into conversation with a few of the folks around me.  This trip we climbed with a couple of ADK 46’ers up for vacation and met a couple still in their single digits on the NH48.  It was an amiable crowd to spend time with at the top.  The view–as I mentioned–came and went, but we got some glimpses into Both the Pemi Wilderness and the White Mountain National Forest.

For me it really is about the people you meet along the way.  I am a talker.  Most people, I think, hike for the silence.  However, in any group there is usually somebody more interested in the story than the view.  We make eye contact.  We venture some quick comments and observations.  Eventually we recognize a fellow-traveler and stay connected for as long as we leapfrog each other up and down.  This was a good mountain for small-talk and hiker-chats.

The way down was unremarkable except for how happy I was to have finished the list!  This started as a way to spend time with my wife while rehabbing from a mid-Covid back injury that resulted in surgery.  We hope to keep on climbing.  Early in my rehab I got pretty far on the 52 WAV and we have begun picking away at the NE67.  Who knows what we will get up to next?