13. Agnes and Terd

Agnes came to Saugerties from our Brothers in Ireland as a designated Abbot, a rather unusual turn of events since we would normally elect our own from among us.  We took his arrival to mean we were in trouble.  At the time we didn't realize how much.

The Abbot Agnes is really a nice guy, but I suppose he has to maintain some level of separateness from us so that he can lead.  Therefore a certain amount of friction is bound to exist between the brothers and Agnes, although I don’t remember much tension surrounding Sparky, our previous abbot.   So I think the main problem with Agnes is his personality.  He’s a bit hard-nosed, even for an abbot.  Terd .. Brother Theresa … normally runs interference for the Abbot on any chores that need to be done outside of Our Lady, or “off planet” as we say. 

It’s only been lately that I’ve been asked to run errands in the village, getting plumbing parts and what not.  Terd always ran around in the SUV getting parts and other chores, but since Agnes arrived, Terd isn’t allowed out without a chaperone.  Instead, Agnes has asked me to travel into town.  I don’t mind, of course, but I feel bad for Terd.  From what I heard, Terd went with Agnes only once before being fired as the Abbot’s driver.  (Agnes needs a driver, having come from a left hand drive country and not being very alert.)

Down in the village, Agnes got into an argument with the nice people at the appliance store when he insisted they should be able to fix our fifty-five year old refrigerator.  Terd explained to the lady in the nicest way possible that “my lord and master doesn't know what he's talking about."  Addressing the Abbot in the presence of others as if Agnes  were bumbling royalty set Agnes off, but his anger did draw attention away from the issue at hand.  While the distracted Abbot launched into a brogue laden monologue on his humble status in the world, Terd placed an order for a new refrigerator.  Terd was a Rhodes Scholar years ago, and is a recognized expert on the writings of Athanasius.  He is a huge guy and has been known at times to impose his physical presence on anyone by placing himself directly in front of the person, the crucifix slung across his massive chest not 4 inches from the other’s nose, saying not a word.  When Terd bears down on you like that, he doesn’t need to tell you he owns the air you are breathing. 
Each in his own way is a big noise.

12. Kokomo

I’ve begun setting the type for the wedding invitation. I can’t wait till it’s time to ink up the press. I’m addicted to the smell of ink. There’s an old printer in Saugerties I used to visit just so I could breathe in the ink! He helped me master the art of makeready when the Abbot Agnes allowed me to get the old press running again.

Of course, it's the young lady who ordered the invitations and who stars in my fantasy, even though I haven’t met her. I see us going off for our honeymoon on a car trip to the Poconos or the Big Horn Mountains to fish for rainbow trout or somewhere else just as exciting. Guess that’s rather tame compared to the wedding trips I hear modern young couples take.

"Aruba, Jamaica, ooo I wanna take ya;
Bermuda, Bahama come on pretty mama;
Key Largo, Montego baby why don't we go?
Down to Kokomo."

I can play that song on my guitar just like the Beach Boys, but not when Abbot Agnes is around.

 

11. Habit

And  I  meant  to  say thank you  to” Pasta Fasul”  in  Mt. Marion for his offer of clothing, but we’d rather have drapes or large pieces of heavy material. We wear “off planet clothing” as we call it only when needed for safety.  Normally we wear a simple monk’s robe over our jeans, T-shirt and boots.  We make our robes.  We just sewed up a few from old drapes given to us by a local funeral parlor. 

You could call my robe a habit, for it is our official dress.  But we just call it a robe.  In medieval times that was all a monk wore, no underclothes and often no sandals.  We’re more practical, but no more wealthy than our predecessors.  I’m sure a monk from the 12^th century would have worn jeans and sneakers or boots if he had been able to get them used from a “free store” or a clothing bank as we do. 

10. After Compline

It’s late, after Compline. I’ve come down here from the chapel to the cellar to sit at the typebench and to listen to the sounds. There’s nothing as quiet as a group of monks who are keeping monastic silence. It can be oppressive after these many years. And so I come down to cellar among the great slabs of bluestone that form Our Lady’s foundation to hear the sounds of the house: the furnace going on once in a while, the water gurgling through the pipes, the mice skittering across the floor above me. The peaceful sounds of life to which we seldom listen. But then the far off screaming siren of a fire truck come to me, or an ambulance responding to a fire or a car accident. Lord be with them, victims and rescuers.

I guess my email address is being passed around Saugerties. Even though I turned off my profile this morning, I’m still getting messages from local residents. That’s terrific, actually, because I am hearing from wonderful people. I hope Abbot Agnes doesn’t discover me here at the PC, tapped into the world wide web. Worse, he would be upset over my blog. After all, I shouldn't be speaking with anyone outside, except when we're in the village on errands.

But what the heck … you can send email to me: BrotherJesse@windsweptpress.com

So. Yes to the woman from Quarryville who asked if we have enough food for the coming winter. We have 48 sacks of rice and four and one half barrels of dried lima beans. If we can beg some flour for making bread, we will do fine through the winter. Last Christmas, some nice folks from Woodstock gave us 50 pounds of coffee! Life doesn’t get any better. Well, of course it does ... at a pig roast!