Rice Pudding

“Alfred,” said Mother, “I have discovered a wonderful recipe for Rice Pudding,” putting a bowl of rice pudding down in front of Alfred.

“Oh?” said Alfred.

“The old recipe I had took eight hours in my Euro-Pro Ninja Multi Cooker” said Mother. “This new recipe is quite as good, and only takes a minute or two in the microwave.”

Alfred looked up from his New York Times Crossword and asked, “What’s a eight letter word for improbable? It has to start with a “U”…“Oh, I know, “Unlikely,” said Alfred, picking up his Crown Princess Pattern silver dessert spoon.

“I have also discovered a new word,” said Mother. “‘Snarky’, as in “Don’t be snarky, Alfred.”

“Snarky,” asked Alfred, “Is that a word?”

            “It means ‘crotchety’ Alfred,” said Mother. “We have to be open to trying new things.”

            “Well, there you have me,” said Alfred. “You are quite right.” He paused, took a spoonful of the rice pudding, and added, “Hmmm!”

            “I take it, that ‘Hmmm’ means you like it?” asked Mother.

            “What is it, Mother,” asked Alfred, putting the second spoonful in his mouth and savouring it.”

            Mother retreated to the kitchen and returned with a tin of Ambrosia Creamy Rice Pudding. “Our Scottish housekeeper Agnes Findlay swears by it. I think that she picked it up at the British Emporium in Grapevine.”

            “Quite good, Mother, quite good,” said Alfred scraping out the last of the rice pudding from his bowl.” 

            “As we get older Alfred,” said Mother, “I don’t want us to get stuck in our ways. Nothing could be worse than degenerating into two stuffy old people who won’t try new things.”

            “You mean ‘Grumpa’ and ‘Grumpma,’” said Alfred.

            “Exactly,” said Mother, “Grumpy, rocking on our rocking chairs and vegetating in the sun. By the way Alfred, I decided to accept Father Goodfellow’s invitation to host Abbot Wigbert next week. That ought to be interesting; I’ve never met a monk before.”

            “Wigbert,” that’s an odd name,” said Alfred.

            “That’s what I thought,” answered Mother, so I asked Father Goodfellow about it. He said it means something like Fighter, Warrior and Bright.”

            “Bright Warrior?” said Alfred. “If he lives up to his name he ought to be a spark to have around. Hosting an Abbot is like having something old and something new at the same time. Centuries old in tradition, but new to us.”

            “You and I, Alfred,” said Mother, “have always enjoyed having an adventure, and this ought to be an adventure. After all, if I understand Father Goodfellow correctly, Christian life is an adventure, a journey to new places we’ve never been before.”

            “It’s kind of like Ambrosia Creamy Rice Pudding,” said Alfred. “God values the old things, yet He is always doing new things.”

 “Behold, the former things have come to pass, and new things I now declare; before they spring forth I tell you of them” [Isaiah 42:9].

Horse Latitudes

            “Alfred,” said Mother, “I am in the dumps, in the doldrums, and I just can’t shake off this feeling of lethargy.”

            “Horse Latitudes,” Mother, “Horse Latitudes,” said Alfred. “I was feeling much the same thing.”

            “What are Horse Latitudes, Alfred,” asked Mother?

             “The old tales,” said Alfred, “tell us that when sailing ships got in the subtropical zone where winds were weak and sails would hang limp, the ships would just sit becalmed waiting for a breeze. As water and food began to be depleted they would throw their horses and cattle overboard to save on supplies.”

            “Oh, Alfred,” said Mother, “say it isn’t so.”

            “Well,” said Alfred, “In any event the word ‘doldrums’ is another nautical term for getting stuck in the subtropical zone.  I remember a poem by Coleridge that describes it pretty well:

Day after day, day after day,

We stuck, no breath no motion;

As idle as a painted ship

Upon a painted ocean.”[i]

            “That,” said Mother, emphatically, “is exactly how I feel, stuck! What can we do, Alfred, what can we do?”

            “In a way Mother, it’s the Mid-Lent Blues, and it’s a long way to Easter.” said Alfred, “I’m in a bit a funk myself, and I surely wish I hadn’t given up smoking for Lent. It’s dashed hard.  I’ve been thinking about it, and I have an idea. I learned a long time ago in business that if I wanted to succeed I had to just keep putting one foot in front of the other no matter how I felt. It is sort of like Cricket, “Don’t worry about the ball hitting the wicket, just keep running between the wickets if you want to rack up a score.”

            “We need to do something, Alfred,” said Mother. How do you get out of the doldrums?”

            “First,” said Alfred, “I remind myself not to poke around at my feelings to take my temperature.  If I did that in business I wouldn’t get anywhere. Then in business I pay special attention to keeping a regular discipline about the things I needed to do. So I thought that if I did the same thing spiritually it would turn out just fine.”

            “Alfred,” said Mother, “Don’t beat around the bush. Get to it! What did you do?”

            “Well, Mother,” said Alfred it was actually very simple. I decided to do Morning Prayer from The Book of Common Prayer. When things got busy last month I slacked off, but I have a suggestion. Why don’t we do Morning Prayer together at the breakfast table every morning?”

            “Really, Alfred?” said Mother, “But I like to do the Sudoku in the paper every morning.”

            “That’s perfectly alright Mother,” said Alfred. “I like to do the Crossword. How about having a second cup of coffee, doing the crossword and Sudoku, and then doing Morning Prayer?”

            “Alfred,” said Mother, “that sounds just fine.  Let’s try it?”

“Morning by morning he awakens; he awakens my ear to hear as those who are taught. The Lord GOD has opened my ear, and I was not rebellious; I turned not backward” [Isaiah 50:4-5]. 

           

---

[i]Samuel Taylor Coleridge: The Rime of the Ancient Mariner Samuel 

Mother and Alfred's Lenten Discipline

“Mother,” said Alfred triumphantly, “I know what I have decided to give up for Lent! I have decided to give us spinach!”

“Alfred,” said Mother, “You don’t even like spinach!”

“Yes, I know Mother, but giving up spinach is a whole lot easier than giving up smoking, which is I what I really want to do.”

“Alfred, I noticed,” said Mother, you haven’t been smoking since Ash Wednesday. It looks like you’ve already given it up for Lent!”

“I know, Mother, I know,” said Alfred, “it’s just that if I admit it out loud, then I’m afraid I will really have to stick to it. I might be biting off more than I can chew. The very idea of giving up things for Lent is something we never did when I was growing up.”

“That is why, Alfred,” said Mother, “I always eat meat during Lent.  My family was Roman Catholic and every Lent we were condemned to eat fish. We weren’t all that devout.  It was sort of a Talliaferro family joke, ‘Luca Brasi sleeps with the fishes, so get some rest and eat fish on Friday; ‘cause the priest says so.’”

            “What stirred up all this, Alfred,” asked Mother?

            “It was the Ash Wednesday service, Mother,” said Alfred, “That line about ‘prayer, fasting, and self-denial’ just stuck in my mind. I really felt I ought to do something.”

            “You know, you are right Alfred,” said Mother. “I hadn’t really thought about it. I suppose that just because my family treated it like some nonsense imposed by the priest, doesn’t mean that it’s not a right thing to do.”

            Mother wandered off into the kitchen while Alfred sat in his study looking at his marvelous collection of pipes; his Ashton Bent Billiard Briar, and his Old Church Bent Billiard, his marvelous hand carved Meerschaum, the Damiano Rovera Briar, and his other fine pipes.  He idly picked up his Rodgers Rosewood Chancet pipe knife and toyed with it for a minute; put it back down on his pipe stand along with the Lalique Jamaique ashtray, and with a sigh picked up the stand with all of his pipes and put it on a shelf in the antique oak credenza in the corner and closed the cabinet door.

“Well, that’s that,” said Alfred, “Hopefully out of sight, out of mind!”

            A few minutes later, Mother came back into the room looking a little somber and said, “I know what I have to give up for Lent.  It doesn’t do to pray about things like this.” Then she said declaratively, “I believe that I am supposed to give up complaining.”

            “That ought to be a challenge, Mother,” said Alfred.

            “Watch it, Alfred,” barked Mother. “On the edge! On the edge!”

“For the moment all discipline seems painful rather than pleasant, but later it yields the peaceful fruit of righteousness to those who have been trained by it” [Hebrews 12:11].

The Talliaferro Family Reunion

            The Talliaferro Steak house was nicely appointed in a ‘Vegas slick’ sort of way; all chrome, dark wood furniture and black leather, crystal chandeliers and red velvet drapery.

            Alfred and Mother had arrived a little early, but not too early. The Maître d’ was looking over the guest list, “I don’t see your name,” he said, and then with the sound of surprise in his voice, “Oh, Colonel and Mrs. Montrose, you’re at the head table.” He looked at Mother and Alfred and asked, “Immediate family?”

            Alfred gave him a steely-eyed look that said, “Mind your own business.”

            The Maître d’ took the hint and said, “Let me show you to your table.”

            Mother’s brother Calo was already standing there by the table scanning the crowd. He turned to them saying, “Rosabella, Alfred, glad you could make it.”

            There was the customary round of hand shaking, then Alfred held out a chair for Mother, saying, “Rose, let me help you.”

            Calo raised an eyebrow, “Rose, not Rosabella?”

            Alfred replied, “Rose Montrose is a beautiful name.” Alfred remained standing beside Calo as Mother was seated and looked around the room. Finally he said, “there’s a lot more than immediate family and relatives here.’

            Calo said with a snarky grin, “There’s family and there is famiglia.”

            Alfred, responded, “I can see from the bulges in jackets that some of them mean business.”

             “Forewarned is forearmed,” laughed Calo.

            All this while Mother was fidgeting nervously.  Finally, she burst out, “Is the Vizzini family here? Whatever happened to Paolo?”

            Calo turned serious, “Look, Sis, I told you that you wouldn’t see Paolo no more.”

            “I know you did, Calo,” said Mother, but what actually happened to him?”

            “We’re not animals,” said Calo, “and there were other considerations. Paolo was the grandson of Don Vizzini back in Sicily. It was important for the Talliaferro family to keep the peace with Don Vizzini, so we came to an agreement with him and sent Paolo back to Palermo. Don Vizzini was very unhappy with Paolo. Part of our agreement was that the Don take back Paolo’s family along with Paolo.”

            “What if he comes back?” asked Alfred.

            “That’s not going to happen,” said Calo. “Paolo was stupid and didn’t learn from his mistakes.  He pulled the same stunt with somebody else’s sister and that kicked off a family vendetta. Paolo is dead. Many of the male members of his family are dead. There are many graves in Sicily. Finis!” said Calo.

            Later in the evening Mother and Alfred were back in their room at the Mandarin Oriental Hotel.  Mother heaved a great sigh, and said, “Alfred. All these years I have lived with the fear of the Vizzinis. I should have asked earlier, but I just couldn’t face it.”

            “Mother,” said Alfred, “it’s over.” Then he asked, “Do you want to drive up to Cape Ann on the North Shore tomorrow?”

            “You know, Alfred, I don’t think so,” said Mother. “Now that I don’t have to worry anymore, I think that I would like to spend a little time with my family before going to Cape Ann. It’s been such a very long time.”

“The LORD knows the days of the blameless, and their heritage will remain forever; they are not put to shame in evil times; in the days of famine they have abundance. But the wicked will perish; the enemies of the LORD are like the glory of the pastures; they vanish- like smoke they vanish away.” [Psalm 37:18].

There Are No Secrets

            Alfred put down the phone on his mahogany 19th Century Partner's Library Desk and said, “Well, Mother that is a surprise.”

            “What is it, Alfred?” asked Mother.

            “That was Sergeant Petrovski. He served under my command in Vietnam in 1964. Good man, but a bloody awful war,” said Alfred. “I met him at the Dallas Gun show two years ago, and I said that if he ever needed a job he should look me up.”

            “You’ve never said much about your experiences in Vietnam,” said Mother.

            Alfred reflected for a moment before replying, “I was in the Military Assistance Command, Studies and Observations Group, usually referred to as SOG. Our task was black ops and for a long time we were told not to saying anything about them. Not only that but there are some things that happened that are very difficult to talk about.”

            “I should know, Alfred,” said Mother. “After all I have not been exactly forthcoming about that terrible experience with Paolo Vizzini years ago.” Mother paused then added, “What did happen when you served in Vietnam?”

            Alfred frowned, then picked up his Old Church Bent Billiard pipe, reamed it out, tamped in some Captain Black tobacco, and lit it while he pondered how to answer Mother’s question.

            Mother knew Alfred very well and she sat down on the Chesterfield wing chair in Alfred’s study and picked up a copy of the American Art Review Magazine and thumbed through it looking at some of the pictures.

            Alfred eyed Mother and perceived that she was just going to wait it out for an answer. “You know, Mother,” said Alfred, “I was brought up to believe in the Ten Commandments, particularly in the 6^th Commandment, ‘Thou shalt not kill,’ yet I have, not only once,” he paused, “but many times. It was a tough tour of duty. Not only that I have sent the men under my command to kill and sometimes to be killed. It’s not something I like to think about.”

“Isn’t that why you received the Distinguished Service Cross?” asked Mother.

“Mother, I was good at it,” said Alfred, “and that is a terrible thing to be good at.”

Mother and Alfred sat quietly together for a few minutes. Eventually Mother said, “You were defending our country, Alfred.”

“I’m not so sure,” said Alfred. “It was Vietnam and many people, even some of our soldiers, thought we shouldn’t be there at all. In many ways it was an unpopular war, and the moral issues seem so very complicated.”

“I know, Alfred, I know,” said Mother. “Years ago when my brother Calo said, ‘Don’t worry about it.  You won’t ever have to see Paolo again,’ I was relieved and I felt guilty at the same time.”

“You are right Mother,” said Alfred, “But there are times when we get into difficult situations that are beyond our control.  Then we’re left with our feelings.  I have asked God to forgive me for the things I’ve done, but still sometimes the guilt just comes back.”

“Alfred,” asked Mother, “Isn’t that what the Church Year is about?”

“How so?” asked Alfred.

“Soon it will be Ash Wednesday and the beginning of Lent. That’s a time of Penitence and Forgiveness.  As for me, I could use a little bit of both,” said Mother.

“If we walk in the light, as he is in the light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus his Son cleanses us from all sin.  If we say we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us.  If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness”[1 John 1:7-9].   

Reservations

            Alfred was taking his time cleaning his favourite Old Church Bent Billiard pipe with his Rodgers Rosewood Chancet pipe knife. He ran one of his chenille pipe cleaners through the stem of the pipe; then picked up a fresh pipe cleaner, and dipped it in a little Louis XIII de Rémy Martin cognac in the crystal goblet on the table, before running it through the stem of his pipe.

            He filled the bowl of his pipe with Captain Black tobacco, lit it and lovingly drew a little smoke, and blew a lovely smoke ring which drifted toward the ceiling before saying, “Well, Mother, March 1^st and the Talliaferro Family Reunion is almost upon us.”

            Mother put down her Atlantic Monthly magazine on the Sheraton table and looked hesitantly at Alfred.  “I know, Alfred, I know,” said she.  “I’m not sure just how much exposure to the family I can endure without saying something thoroughly inappropriate.”

            Alfred continued, “Attending the dinner is fine Mother, but I thought that it would be wise for us to limit the amount of time we have to spend with your family. In particular I am eager to avoid having to respond to an invitation to stay with your brother Calo and his wife Marilena. Calo is too busy playing the Underboss and all kinds of people are trooping through their home; and Marilena is sure to pressure you to attend daily Mass with her.  You don’t need to be explaining why you are not still a Roman Catholic.  Accordingly I have made a reservation for us at the Mandarin Oriental in Boston.  It’s on Boylston Street and a decent distance away from the North End."

            Mother nodded vigorously, “Oh, Alfred, thank you! What a good idea. I love my brother Calo, but I don’t love what the family does for a living. Marilena is sweet, but I don’t want to feel trapped by staying with them and not being able to take a break.”

            “Mother,” said Alfred, “Marilena always says that fish and relatives spoil after three days, but three Talliaferro days only last about twelve hours. Not only do we have reservations at the Mandarin Oriental, but I have also reserved a Bentley Continental GT for the entire time we are in Boston.  That will enable us to drive up the North Shore and visit Gloucester and Rockport.  Maybe we can spend a night at the Peg Leg Inn in Rockport as a late Valentine’s Day celebration."

            “That would be lovely Alfred. My family can be very difficult, but what I’m really afraid of, is seeing Paolo Vizzini’s family. That was such a painful episode in my life. By the way cousin Angelo called the other evening to ask if we were coming. He said it’s a big deal and that Don Giovanni is coming up from Dade County in Florida, and that all of the button men and bagmen are going be there.  How can I love my family when they are involved in such terrible things?"

            “In little doses, Mother.  In little doses,” said Alfred.  “Even Jesus spent most of his time with the people who were responsive to him, and very little time with difficult people like the Pharisees, even though he loved them.”

“Whoever receives you receives me, and whoever receives me receives him who sent me” [Matthew 10:40].

The Mezzo Soprano

            Alfred shook his head in wonder. He could hear Mother in the kitchen singing a Franz Schubert song, “Great is Jehovah the Lord, The heav’ns and the earth proclaim His pow’r and His might.” Mother’s mezzo soprano voice was a little hesitant, but the sound of her voice warmed his heart.

            Mother came bustling into Alfred’s study saying, “Do you remember that time we heard Mary Ann McCormick at the Boston Lyric Opera singing the title role of La Cenerentola? I have discovered the most amazing thing. I knew that she has been singing at the Metropolitan Opera now for some years, but what I didn’t know was that she has become a Christian.”

            “I’m telling you Mother,” said Alfred, “We Christians are everywhere. Even though the Super Bowl wasn’t really super I was very interested to hear the Seattle Seahawks quarterback say, ‘I believe that God has given me a right arm and for some reason, even though I'm 5'11", to be able to make the throws and make great decisions on the field.”’

            “I never thought very much about it Alfred,” said Mother, “but it seems to me that there are Christians all around us. You know that our Scottish housekeeper Agnes Findlay used to annoy me when she talked about her Christian faith, but there is no denying that she has had an impact on my life. Sometimes Alfred, I just have to separate style from substance.”

            “And further, Alfred,” said Mother, “one of my very favorite actors, David Suchet, who plays Hercule Poirot in the Agatha Christie mystery series, became a Christian after reading a bible that he found in his hotel room.”

            “Last year, Mother,” answered Alfred, “when I was wrestling with faith I discovered that Norm Miller, the Chairman of Interstate Batteries was a Christian. I found it very encouraging to hear that another business leader had made a decision for Christ.  That helped me not to feel so alone.”

            “Telling others about your Christian faith could be costly,” said Mother. “I was reading about Mary Ann McCormick yesterday. She says that becoming a Christian has limited the kinds of roles she is willing to sing, and that she has even been mocked by others for her decision.”

            “It came home to me last spring. As you may remember, Mother, that one of my suppliers had informed me that a whole load of cashmere sweaters was about to drop off the back of one of his trucks. He asked if I would be interested in a bargain price on those sweaters? Of course, unspoken, was that fact that his insurance would pay for the purloined shipment.  Years ago I wouldn’t have hesitated. After all, business is business. But when I thought things through I realized that a momentous decision was staring me in the face. If I was to become a Christian, I’d have to decide to do things the right way.”

            “Just so, Alfred. Just so,” said Mother. “It may cost a little from time to time, but in the end run it will make one feel better about oneself.”

“I will ponder the way that is blameless. Oh when will you come to me? I will walk with integrity of heart within my house” [Psalm 101:2].

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G3xrAb8N7uw