tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-34220992024-03-12T22:03:55.679-04:00Notes From a Hillside FarmNotes from a Hillside Farm; being Musings and Observations on Life, Letters, and our Most Holy Faith, by a Lawyer, Sheep- farmer, and Communicant of the Orthodox Church
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01327968437791682072noreply@blogger.comBlogger920125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3422099.post-79748809074594857132018-06-16T12:43:00.001-04:002018-06-16T12:43:53.329-04:00<a href="https://www.bloglovin.com/blog/19496859/?claim=yegmnq92jnm">Follow my blog with Bloglovin</a>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01327968437791682072noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3422099.post-31639846547636184592015-09-04T07:26:00.001-04:002015-09-04T07:37:35.806-04:00Friday morningAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01327968437791682072noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3422099.post-89990228203012397472015-09-03T08:07:00.001-04:002015-09-03T08:07:38.413-04:00Thursday morningAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01327968437791682072noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3422099.post-75298829563009744332015-09-02T22:36:00.000-04:002015-09-02T22:36:07.016-04:00We still have sheepAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01327968437791682072noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3422099.post-83398987074629310412015-09-01T21:23:00.000-04:002015-09-01T21:23:36.644-04:00A New YearOne of the things that make us human is our love of making arbitrary distinctions dividing time and space. Calendars, kilometers, centimeters and seconds, we slice and dice our way through life, reducing our passages, temporal and geographic, into manageable pieces. Today, on the calendar of a dead empire still used by my Church to count time, is the first day of a new year. As Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01327968437791682072noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3422099.post-34089025569386119152014-11-04T22:36:00.001-05:002014-11-04T22:36:21.354-05:00Tuesday morningAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01327968437791682072noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3422099.post-64656998730114151142014-10-31T08:54:00.001-04:002014-10-31T08:54:18.564-04:00Friday morning 2Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01327968437791682072noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3422099.post-72750824752923742022014-10-31T08:53:00.001-04:002014-10-31T08:53:48.680-04:00Friday morning 1Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01327968437791682072noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3422099.post-69108124917294366972014-10-30T08:08:00.001-04:002014-10-30T08:08:48.565-04:00Thursday MorningAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01327968437791682072noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3422099.post-45896648048474066052014-10-21T17:23:00.001-04:002014-10-21T17:23:47.468-04:00Tuesday morningAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01327968437791682072noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3422099.post-65253184195655412052014-10-20T15:25:00.000-04:002014-10-20T15:25:18.377-04:00Milosz MondayI have never found Plotinus' definition of spirituality as "the flight of the alone to the alone" to be especially appealing. Here is Milosz on prayer, as usual doubting and faithful, with the insight that we are all in this together.
ON PRAYER
You ask me how to pray to someone who is not.
All I know is that prayer constructs a velvet bridge
And walking it we are aloft, as on a Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01327968437791682072noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3422099.post-24755812219306784072014-10-20T08:46:00.001-04:002014-10-20T08:46:06.453-04:00Monday morningAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01327968437791682072noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3422099.post-64268007996538965492014-10-17T07:35:00.001-04:002014-10-17T07:35:28.981-04:00Friday MorningAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01327968437791682072noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3422099.post-4057747268924365032014-10-16T08:24:00.001-04:002014-10-16T08:24:10.354-04:00More Thursday MorningAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01327968437791682072noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3422099.post-36467121083615812052014-10-16T07:37:00.001-04:002014-10-16T07:37:23.907-04:00Thursday morningAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01327968437791682072noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3422099.post-54989265464235085542014-10-13T16:50:00.000-04:002014-10-13T16:50:07.263-04:00Milosz MondayThe Church tells us that we are surrounded by angels; at our prayers, at the Eucharist, as we wake and as we sleep. It is hard to believe in the angels of the liturgy and the Bible; creatures both wonderful and terrible, messengers, guardians and heralds of the Apocalypse. Pop culture domesticates them into objects of sentiment or sells them to the credulous but spiritually inclined Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01327968437791682072noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3422099.post-28128130902341328952014-10-13T12:48:00.001-04:002014-10-13T12:48:13.612-04:00Monday morningAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01327968437791682072noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3422099.post-11448848288340526742014-10-09T09:33:00.001-04:002014-10-09T09:33:30.074-04:00Thursday morningAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01327968437791682072noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3422099.post-3287554054886650192014-10-07T12:56:00.001-04:002014-10-07T12:56:43.082-04:00Milosz Monday (a day late)Having given up, mostly, on signs and wonders, I read the lives of saints, I read theologians, I read Church Fathers, I look at people hoping that one will have that light, that connection with something that will suddenly make the world a larger and more wonderful place. Here is a poem by Milosz that says it better:
VENI CREATOR
Come, Holy Spirit,
bending or not bending the grasses,
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01327968437791682072noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3422099.post-87553261911517148632014-10-07T08:08:00.001-04:002014-10-07T08:08:30.211-04:00Tuesday MorningAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01327968437791682072noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3422099.post-43519349574591202282014-09-26T08:06:00.001-04:002014-09-26T08:06:13.792-04:00Friday MorningAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01327968437791682072noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3422099.post-66604400442382678482014-09-25T07:53:00.001-04:002014-09-25T07:53:16.440-04:00Wet Thursday MorningAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01327968437791682072noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3422099.post-1864956899594910072014-09-24T08:31:00.001-04:002014-09-24T08:31:37.301-04:00Wednesday MorningAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01327968437791682072noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3422099.post-15500006991606374432014-09-23T07:57:00.001-04:002014-09-23T07:57:17.402-04:00Tuesday MorningAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01327968437791682072noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3422099.post-90749824510753278362014-09-22T09:40:00.002-04:002014-09-22T10:55:40.812-04:00Milosz MondayMost every day I put up a photograph on Facebook of the family farm. I do this because I realized a while back that I had forgotten that I lived someplace wonderful and was letting days, weeks, months, years slide by without truly taking the time to notice that fact. I will bend fair use by quoting three lines from Czeslsaw Milosz that explain why I stand out on my deck holding aAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01327968437791682072noreply@blogger.com1