April 13, 2021

Day divided three ways. The first of it initiated when I realized I had 170 one-act plays to read and evaluate by Friday. It was too discouraging to note how far I had gotten, but I made some inroads. Few really gripped the imagination. Many were competent. Many, in the spirit of the times, featured transitional characters or stereotypical lesbians. I meant to work on my own play, but I was so disgusted with the form in general that I couldn’t.

Quite strenuous gardening, re-digging ad replanting the back garden. My stamina is greater than it was, so the projects can be bigger. Bought several things to plant, and though quite a large section was liberated from overgrowing grasses, only phlox got into the ground. Moved the big border rocks into a cairn– I hope it looks spooky and ancient– and St. Francis under the lilacs, where he at least has afternoon shade. Each time I reach into a clump of grass I expect to encounter a snake, but I never do. 

Part three was the ZOOM evaluation of the parish questionnaire by Holy Cow consultants. Reflexively I loathe and scorn such things, but this turned out to be sobering and informative. Our view of ourselves is that we are unfriendly, unaccommodating, the centers of power isolated from the people. We look to the clergy for everything, leadership, comfort, problem-solving, and do not support them to that same degree. There are good things, too, but they are to be cherished rather than to be worked on. I did in fact recognize myself and my attitudes in many of the things revealed.  I came to the Vestry at an interesting time– the tribulations balanced at least partially by the fact that there cannot be actual meetings, and I can be sipping cold tea at my own desk.