It's a sunny morning here in the Carondelet Garden on this Ordinary Friday in January.  It almost feels mild and balmy outside with the 30-degree temperatures right now.  We should see mid-50s by this afternoon.  A few showers may develop later on the day.  A welcome respite and hopefully more melting.

It has been a wild and wooly beginning to this new year.  Crazy weather extremes, a world at rage and war, a city with more than its share of problems that need fixing.  Yet, with all the turmoil there is hope.  My prayer now is that we all come to realize that the only thing that is good for any of us is what is good for all of us.  I pray for wisdom.  Wisdom is not insisting on the old ways of doing things.  It is the ability to make the ancient truth the enduring memory of today.  

If I want to be alive.  Truly... fully alive, then I must open myself to that ancient truth, to life's eternal dream.  I must dream to be a better person tomorrow than I am today.  I must hang on to my faith, my hope and especially my love for myself and my love for others.  A simply, ordinary life filled with faith, hope and love.  If it were only that easy.

The weekend is almost here.  A three-year-old's birthday party, a CFP Championship with my beloved Notre Dame and the Lions are on primetime this Saturday.  Let's go Irish!  That's all the news from here in the Carondelet Garden.

It is sunny and frigid on this mid-month Ordinary Wednesday in south Saint Louis.  We should hit 30-degrees by this afternoon.  The good news is we will be seeing a bit of a warmup over the next couple of days.  A welcome relief from the snow, ice and cold!  Maybe we can get the Doodle Dog a walk or two.  

I have been suffering from an upper respiratory infection for the past few weeks, and I must admit it is starting to wear on me a bit.  I heard my neighbor's dog outside barking at the moon.  My sweet neighbor says he's just an old man yelling at nothing.  I laughed because I feel that way myself.  An old man just wanting to walk outside and scream a bit.  Some days I feel as if I am one headline away from becoming King Lear, raging into the storm!

The world seems to be in so much trouble.  The patterns of daily life are constantly changing in ways I don't really welcome or even understand.  Yet, there is light and goodness bursting forth in the darkest places, in the tiniest nooks and crannies.  I keep looking every day until I find them.  It is what gives me hope and what keeps me sane.  

All endings are also beginnings.  This is what I keep telling myself over and over and over again.  The sun will set tonight, but it will rise again in the morning.  Spring will come.  Keep the faith, look for the goodness and share the hope.  Keep loving even when we don't feel very lovable.  That's all the news from here in the Carondelet Garden.

It is sunny and cold here in the Carondelet Garden on this Monday in Ordinary Time.  After a bit of a break in the freeze over the weekend, the frigid temperatures have returned for the next few days.  The good news is there is sunshine!  A bit of grace for our frozen world.

Gardeners are the eternal optimists.  We always believe that this year will be better than the last.  The good news for January is that I can guarantee that I will stay ahead of the weeds for this month at least!  Right now, I can' t even see the ground for the snow!

We are definitely in "hunker down" mode here in the Carondelet Cottage.  A welcome respite from the hustle and bustle of the holidays and all that goes with it.  The decorations are put away and we are enjoying a bit of a break.  That's all the news from here in the Carondelet Garden.

It's a snowy Friday here in the Carondelet Garden in south Saint Louis.  A Winter Weather Advisory is in effect until 6:00 p.m. with 3 or 4 more inches of snow expected.  The little Doodle Dog is loving it.  The old gardener, not quite as much.  Yet, you have to admit it is beautiful to behold.  Especially if you are nestled all warm in your cozy cottage.

A blessing of this snow has been the world shutting down a bit.  It offers us an opportunity to sit and simply be for a moment.  We are gifted with the grace to be still.  To wait.  To listen for that wee small voice.  To pay attention.  As Mary Oliver said, "To pay attention, this is our endless and proper work."

Be still.  Wait.  Listen.  Pay attention.  Not a bad way to spend the second Friday in Christmastide.  That's all the news from here in the Carondelet Garden.

It is still quite dark here in the Carondelet Garden on this second Wednesday of Christmastide. The day is cold and cloudy, and it seems the weather intends to maintain its solemnity. By this afternoon, the highs should reach into the mid-20s.

I must admit, I find joy in the quiet that blankets the city after a snowfall. The reduction in traffic noise creates an ethereal silence, an unexpected quiet that seems to magically descend upon the urban landscape. The snow absorbs so much sound that you can truly hear the stillness. We've been delighting in the sights and sounds of birds feeding in the back garden—a rare treat, as we usually cannot hear them. This added grace enhances our appreciation of the fleeting silence.
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In the early morning darkness, as I sit with my coffee and my thoughts, I revel in this moment of tranquility. Soon, the newspapers will arrive, I will begin to stir, and the bustle of the day will break the spell. But, for now, the silence is a welcome guest. That's all the news from here in the Carondelet Garden.

Dawn is beginning to break here in the Carondelet Garden on this first Monday morning in 2025.  The skies are cloudy, and you can almost feel a bit of frozen moisture still lingering in the chilled air.  We should see highs in the mid-20s by this afternoon.  It is a frigid morning here in south Saint Louis.

I have long ago given up the idea of New Year's Resolutions.  This morning it is even a bit difficult to imagine a new start in the garden this year but still I dream of fresh vegetables and blooming plants abounding in color and flavor.  The only real color in the garden this morning is pure white with few signs of life.  Winter is a time of rest and dreams.  We are free to join the sun in taking a pause before starting anew this Spring.  

Stillness begets enjoyment and reflection.  Yet the very best part of stillness is the opportunity for appreciation.  A moment to give thanks to the Creator for the bounty and the beauty of this incredible natural world.  In a world filled with chaos, anger and meanness, the garden offers solitude, gentleness, beauty and goodness.  It offers hope! Hope is something we need more than ever.  

Here's a bit of hope for this Monday morning.  Hope.  Faith.  Love, and Gardening.  Even on a snowy, frigid morning in January.  That's all the news from here in the Carondelet Garden.

As the dawn remains distant on this long, dark winter's night, the new year quietly begins. The days are brief, and the nights stretch endlessly ahead, with months of shortened days still to endure. Yet, there is always the promise of light.
 
Everything has transformed. Standing in the Carondelet Garden, I witness rebirth. It’s not just a simple turn of the calendar page, but a profound change in the soil where new life, sheltered deep within the earth, prepares to ascend toward the impending light of longer days. The author of Hebrews reminds us that we move forward with faith, certain of what we hope for, and assured of what we cannot see.
 
On this first day of 2025, we embark on a new year in the deepest darkness, but out of this darkness, we too reach for the coming light. We know the light will shine, and better days are yet to come. This year is filled with the faith of unseen things, the hope of new beginnings, and the desire to spread love and joy along our journey. Happy and Blessed New Year!