Oregon Author Introduces New Sleuth

Sounds like a book review huh? Well, it is and the author is part of Trinity Episcopal Church in Ashland, Oregon. Ashland, known as a virtual hotbed of creativity that includes theatre, cabaret, poets, writers of all types, film festivals, film locations, and oh yeah, politics. But I regress...

Need some fun but brainy reading this summer? Look no further than the Tess Camillo Mysteries by Morgan Hunt. Southern Oregon's answer to Janet Evanovich, Morgan Hunt is awaiting the release of the third book in this series of song-inspired titles which include "Sticky Fingers" and "Fool on the Hill". Book three, "Blinded By the Light" is due for release this September.


"I could guess who wore the pants in their family, probably because she more often wore the skirts."

Take an ordinary life, add southern California, spice with San Diego and watch what happens to your average 40-something woman and see what you get. Tess Camillo is almost "Everywoman" in her quest for a good living, good health and a settled life...right? Nuh-uh. Here is a character that is unabashedly modern, grooves to 70's and 90's tunes and then finds herself more than curious about the death of another woman's partner. I won't tell you too much but along with the death-defying humor there is the death defying cancer survivor as well. And if that doesn't give you some grit, nothing else will. Personally I had a difficult time putting the book down because the pace was a good canter until the end when it went into full gallop. A great beginning to a good read.


"After all, he seemed to have no enemies. But if that's true, why did someone brutally murder him? Tess snoops at the homes of Hollywood music producers, at LegoLand, in church, and on a carousel to find her answers..."

In the second book, there are many candidates for title of "Fool on the Hill". But there is only one woman who can figure out who it really is and why. Once again, Tess strays into a situation not of her own making but the mere shock value of the crime is enough to make anyone truly curious about the circumstances. Taken once again on a zippy and entertaining ride through the book's pages, you learn even a little more about our hero, though she would never consider herself one, such is her on and off again modesty but when she gets it right, the world knows about it. Characters like chords, each one has its own tune to play...

When Tess' work takes her to Albuquerque for a temp assignment, she decides to visit the Lightning Field, an earthworks art piece constructed of 400 lightning rods arranged in an intriguing way out in the New Mexican desert. The remote locale is disrupted when a fellow visitor is apparently killed by lightning. Tess knows it was no accident, and how she solves this crime is quite a shocker!

And so it is without a lot of fanfare that I say I am eager to read the third book that is coming out in the Fall. "Blinded by the Light" promises to propel us right along as Tess is thrust yet again into a murder scenario not of her choosing. Stay tuned!

Would you like to know more about the author?










(Morgan at Bloomsbury Books, Ashland)

Visit her website at Morgan Hunt Books.

Shells upon a shore...bits of our world

Well...

It has been another "quite awhile" since I actually wrote a post to post. In all truthfulness I have been uninspired, unmoved by all the things I could have commented or extrapolated on, within and without the Church.

Human suffering around the world: Darfur, Zimbabwe, Myanmar, China, Haiti, Somalia, Palestine...America, yeah, America. The indifference and callousness of supposed "leaders" to the suffering of their own people. I ask what can I do to make a difference? I pray hard, that's what I do and I also look around my own community and see what can be done to feed the hungry, care for the sick, shelter the homeless. And it is no different in any other country and local community around this world. But when disasters, natural or human made, occur, it will take more than praying to bring what is needed. It will take action, small and large, local and global, to relieve the suffering. God doesn't expect us to sit on our duffs and "have faith". He wants us to be faith in action, answering the very prayers we pray.

Episcopal Relief and Development can get to places the military can't. Go there to contribute and see what you can do to help your brother or sister in need. There is also Doctors Without Borders, physicians, surgeons, RN's, and other critical staff who pick up and go on a moments notice from all across America, Canada, and Europe. You can contribute to their work and read up on how they help millions in disaster zones and extreme need regions. And as always there is the American Red Cross covering the Midwest in the tornado and flooding zones. It's sister organization, the Red Crescent, covers the Middle East and Asia, and its needs. If we want peace in the Middle East, then feed the hungry and give medical help to those who need it. No one is going to listen to "talk" about peace if they don't see some pro-action. This is a case where actions do speak louder than words.

And remember, people are hungry and cold [or hot in sweltering climates], sick and destitute 24 hours a day, 365 days a year. Giving on the "holidays" just doesn't cut it. And for our local community--our own backyard-- there is ACCESS Inc., the Salvation Army, United Way and the local Red Cross who are at work in our Valley to ease the hardship of our homeless and elderly, our disabled and our youth.

Ok.

I have noticed some developments of note in the national Church and the wider Church in the last month or so. Lambeth is set to get underway not too long from now. Bishop Robinson is not invited but the GAFCON gang are, the very ones who wish to divide the Communion and cause dis-ease among the faithful, here and in their own countries. Witch hunts go on daily in the countries of the Global South for "homosexuals" or anyone accused of being homosexual. And places like Nigeria and Kenya think we are backward in our beliefs! We don't go around burning alive old people because someone suspects them of being gay. I was horrified to read that story on Reuters.

On the upside...

Australia has installed their first woman bishop in the Diocese of Perth, Archdeacon Kay Goldsworthy. You can read about her here.

And you can read about the first woman bishop of the Diocese of Melbourne in Victoria province, Canon Barbara Darling in this article. I think it is exceptionally fitting that the "first cousins" of the English Church should lead the way for backward England in regard to the place of women in the Anglican Church and wider Communion. Canada, New Zealand, and now Australia have committed themselves to the future of the Church. Nothing like showing up the "first born" how to do things properly. Did you hear that Rowan? Hello!

Things political. I'll just say it. There is no two ways about it. I will vote in November for Barak Obama, but he is not my first choice. There. I said it.

And I am wearing my TeamHillary shirt as I type. I make no apologies for my choice. She stood her ground, she ignored her fellow Democratic naysayers and was dragged by the national media through mud and down dirt roads of blatant and despicable sexism but she kept it together and did not give them any satisfaction by responding to the drivel spouted by Keith Oberman or Chris Matthews, or any of the other media jocks. If they had behaved as badly with racial epithets against Barak Obama, they wouldn't have jobs today. But who cares or gives a damn about an honorable woman getting figuratively spat upon and symbolically stoned for saying "no, I won't quit" or "I will not give up"? Those who have supported her do give a damn, and that includes me, and it has made me a stronger woman for watching her throughout this process. Hillary Clinton is an inspiration to enlightened women everywhere...whether they will admit it or not.

Today [June 7th] is the anniversary of the death of James Byrd Jr, who died a most brutal death in 1998 by three white men in the town of Jasper TX by dragging him down a dirt road chained up behind a pickup truck . What good can come of such a horrific crime? Oddly enough better racial relations in that very town. The memorial to a murdered son, killed senselessly, is a tribute to his family and to what forgiveness and reconciliation really means. Read and inwardly digest...

____________________________________

I'll be writing about some books I have been reading lately in my next post so stay tuned. One of them is by a local author! Truly an undiscovered talent right here at home!

Catherine

Of God we ask one favour...

Of God we ask one favour,

That we may be forgiven –

For what, he is presumed to know –

The Crime, from us, is hidden –

Immured the whole of Life

Within a magic Prison

We reprimand the Happiness

That too competes with Heaven.

Emily Dickinson

Methodists Deny Baptismal Promises

The General Conference of the United Methodist Church has chosen not to include all of the Baptized in its most recent decision this week. The Episcopal Church is not alone in its struggle to include all of the Baptized and to allow the fulfillment of those promises.

Here is a video clip of a portion of the General Conference, held every four years, that speaks to the grief and sadness of members of this church, to the exclusion of all the Baptized in its ministry. The "clip" is about 20 minutes long but worth every second. We are not alone in this struggle to include all the Baptized in the complete ministry of the Church.

I wish to acknowledge my source for the video as being that of The Rev Elizabeth Kaeton of "Telling Secrets", her blog that originated at our last Episcopal Church USA convention in 2006 to journal and report the happenings there in Cleveland, Ohio.

Catherine

"In Search of a Round Table"

Maggi Dawn, Robinson College chaplain extraordinaire at Cambridge, has come across this timely piece of poetry by Charles Lathrop in which lies the quandry of the Anglican Communion [in my humble opinion...]. I think that you will see the wisdom of his words without me muddling the waters. So gather 'round the Table to hear and ultimately see....


In search of a round table

Concerning the why and how and what and who of ministry,
One image keeps surfacing: A table that is round.
It will take some sawing
To be roundtabled.
Some redefining
And redesigning,
Some redoing and rebirthing
Of narrow long Churching
Can painful be
For people and tables.
It would mean no daising
And throning,
For but one king is there
And he is a foot washer,
At table no less.
And what of narrow long ministers
When they confront
A round table people,
After years of working up the table
To finally sit at its head,
Only to discover
That the table has been turned round?
They must be loved into roundness,
For God has called a People
Not "them and us".
"them and us" are unable
to gather round; for at a round table
there are no sides
and ALL are invited
to wholeness and to food.
At one time
Our narrowing churches
Were built to resemble the Cross
But it does no good
For building to do so,
If lives do not.
Round tabling means
No preferred seating,
No first and last,
No better, and no corners
For the "least of these".
Roundtabling means
Being with,
A part of,
Together and one.
It means room for the Spirit
And gifts
And disturbing profound peace for all.
We can no longer prepare for the past.
To be Church,
And if He calls for other than a round table
We are bound to follow.
Leaving the sawdust
And chips, designs and redesigns
Behind, in search of and in presence of
The Kingdom
That is His and not ours.

The mandala, known as the Transformation mandala, was created by grace.golddogdesign.com.

Floundering and finding

I am not sure where this entry will eventually end up as my mind is in wandering mode at the time of this writing...

We have had a strange and unusual Spring here in southern Oregon. Here it is nearing the end of April and we are still getting snow in the mountains and the valleys, including my own. It could be another one of those years where we are in the 40's and 50's until the first of May when it will--as before--rocket to 80 degrees within 24 hours and leave us all stunned and coming down with colds...joy.

I want the warmth to come, the light, bright and good, the greening of my world. I need the light to shine in the darkness of my weary spirit; weary from grief, loss, hurriedness, workday stress, the loneliness in the crowd kind of feeling, the stillness of my home. I want to put my hands in the earth and inhale her in all of her fertility and life-giving presence. I want...no, I need flowers and growing things to involve my hands and heart in moving meditation and in those moments, continue a silent dialogue with God about everyday stuff, and about what I'm to do with my life, aside from the usual perambulations of the every day.

I spoke with my spiritual director this last Sunday, and we talked about finding our identity as women of our respective generations. From where we have been to where we are now and what the future may make of us in time. There are times when I find myself in a mental desert searching for myself, if only I knew what I was looking for, I may find it. Or maybe its a mountain I must climb to test my endurance of the seemingly ordinary. On other days I think I have figured it out but you know, we never really do...figure "it" out that is. We lead ourselves to think we are coming within reach only to discover that we are further away than we initially thought. This is when I tend to want to simply forget about ever discovering that "thing" I am supposed to be. And why is that so important? To try to fit myself into an identity or a role that I think I am to engage for the rest of my life.

I have been silent in this blog for a while. Yes I did write a rant on letter-writing which I didn't announce to my usual list of readers but just let it sit there to be found by those who might happen by. Lisa Fox of My Manner Of Life has also been in silent mode. I have read some blog entries by similar spiritual women who have wondered if their blogs should or could continue. Closeted Pastor and Gartenfische have approached this subject and I like what they say about it, and the support they have received to keep on writing. All three of these blogs by these extraordinary women should continue in my opinion but then I am selfish in this respect because I love reading fine writing about things that really matter in life. I know I can find substance in each one of these places given the articulate prose.

When you are a searching person like me, you need inspiration in its many forms. Being a lover of literature I have found some especially good places to immerse my often empty cup of myself and find myself filled with refreshing word images and enlightenment. Recently I found Choralgirl
and her poetry offerings as well as her prosaic commentary on poets of our time to be refreshing and enriching. I also recommend the pithy writings of the author of Wyrdbyrd's Wyrld where topics are many and the views are varied. And if its the Barkings of an Old Dog that you want to hear, I offer you Clumber, who's perspective is vertically diminished yet brimming with good bites and dreams...of bites...of something, preferably tasty sans drool. I find that dogs always have something sage to offer us, either silently [its the eye communication] or physically [dragging us by the leash, or depositing wet tennis balls in our hands]. I love the picture of Laika, the space dog's memorial statue in Moscow. I earnestly encourage you to take a look. Somehow Clumber pawed his way through cyberspace to find it.

And as Clumber is a seeker of God and of the doggy esoteric, I too am seeking God in the everyday, in the dogs [I am becoming partial to golden retrievers, hence the blatant dog picture] I happen upon [and occasionally the kitties; most definitely the rabbits], in the people I meet, intentionally or otherwise...perhaps my journey is about them, or they are in some way a part of my journey in finding out who I am and what I am to be. I welcome the thoughts of my readership and their perspectives on the matter. I admittedly say that I become tired of feeling lost in certain aspects of my life. But maybe this is the way its supposed to be: that there is no "fitting in", that we are always going to be in a state of flux. Perhaps in my spiritual life, floundering is part of the finding. Either way, I am never alone.

Catherine

The photo of Mt McLoughlin is courtesy of the USGS and the picture of Dewey the golden retriever is courtesy of his human, Shawn Nolson at shawnolsen.net. The sleeping volcano that is Mt McLoughlin is in huge, plain view of my office in the northern part of the Rogue Valley of southern Oregon.

Letterwriting 501: "Your mailbox is empty"

Being a Healer/Idealist is not necessarily fun. Or is it meant to be, but there are perks and then there are disappointments. Sounds like the usual story that everyone seems to have. I am a person of expectations. More often than not my expectations, though not that excruciating, seem to get left in the dust of everyday life. For example, I just don't know why people cannot have the forethought to be on time for an appointment; it baffles me. And so, I remain stunningly baffled.

I suppose that we are all expectant of something, more or less as the case may be, but I have learned that disappointments can be reshaped into something other than, well, disappointment. A while back I issued a post regaling the wonders of letter writing, the old art that--thanks to texting and emailing--has gone by the wayside, as it were. And so I have been writing letters, sending them forward into the world, looking fine and on a mission...never to be heard from again. Sad fact, that.

Do people think that just because they receive a letter--hand written and stamped--that it doesn't merit a response, even a postcard? I know I sound rather piqued [can you tell I have been reading Jane Austen?] and even affronted, but there it is. I truly do love buying stationery and am particular about stamps to go with, but why do I continue to do it if no one responds? Part of me says "for the love of the language", and another part quietly and transparently whispers, "because I want someone to see me for me". I do it for both reasons, I confess. We tend to take one another for granted in this contemporary and modern life of ours. We look at the outward appearances and not so much on the inside. I think we are afraid to let others see who we really are, in all of our vulnerability and frailness. I'm tired of being afraid for those very reasons, and in my letters I give voice to the inward turnings of mind and spirit, to the life I wish to give to my garden, to my creativity, to my usefulness as part of the human element, h-8 [turn the 8 on its side for the proper symbol of infinity].

I write the way I think. Often I hear people say that "if only I could write like you", and I say, write the very way you think, with all the "uhmms" and "ahhhs" included, and you will not only write like me but more so yourself. As time goes by, you will supplant the awkward pauses and the sounds that go with them with real, meaningful words that reflect you. I know that the learning of language is an ongoing thing, why else do I spend so much blessed [sardonic tone] time in Barnes and Noble or the antiquarian book store downtown? Language and consequently writing is like a gourmet feast. There is always something more to try and to improve upon as each of our palates will always be different from the other.

So I am "wahhhing" about not the sending forth but the lack of reciprocity in regard to letters. To some it will seem petty, to others pitiable, but that is not what I want. I just want a letter from one of the many people I do write to, who claim they love receiving my letters but have not deigned to reply and bring me the joy of knowing I am being thought of even a little bit. I do believe I am worthy of a stamp [and I don't mean one on my foot...teehee!] as those I have written are likewise worthy.

Have you ever read the letters of some well-known literary personage, like Karen Blixen, who wrote "Out of Africa" and corresponded with her reticent friend and lover, Dennis Finch-Hatton? Or Winston Churchill and his wife? There are many published books of letters that convey what has for the most part, been lost to us in modern times. Communication. I encourage the reading of such literary collections for the edification of the mind as well as the restlessness of fingers considering the pen. Letters reveal us in ways nothing else can.

And what, one might ask, has this to do with the Episcopal Church? Absolutely nothing! That is the point, unless you want to write a letter to 815, or a "thank you" note to your priest or an usher, or to that quiet person sitting in the back of the church...you could make their day just by putting ink to paper.