Yes, it's too early for Christmas music!

But heaven help me. I'm too sad. There's too much garbage going on in the world. But I will not discuss it.

Most of us love Christmas music, and this is really superb. I loooooooooove ancient music. I will admit that Medieval and Renaissance music in general is an acquired taste, but Baroque... well, this is just sublime. It will get you in the Christmas spirit. I'm not advocating that you skip Advent, but if you (like me) need some peace in your soul, seriously, give this ensemble a listen. Beautiful hymns and carols, and a very talented group of singers and musicians.

We will reclaim the culture through beauty. That is all.



PS this video is not narrated in English. Yet at the very end I heard the name "John Rutter," and John Rutter is NOT a Baroque composer (but his music is also sublime! We will leave that for another day.) Enjoy, and God bless your day! (Just 6-odd weeks till Christmas!!!)
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Happy Anniversary to me

And to my husband. No, it's not our wedding anniversary (32 years in October). But it's our 30th anniversary of parenthood. Good gosh, where did that time go? Happy Birthday, Mrs K! 

Yikes. Time to replace the album. Good retirement project.
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Today is a good day to start blogging again

And not just because it's the first day of a new month, and a new school year, and my sister's birthday (Happy Birthday, D!) But because there is just so much to say, and do and share. But some of it will have to wait, because today we're moving two of our daughters to university. In the meantime, please enjoy the lovely colours of summer at my house. Hollyhocks, some of my favourite garden babies.

Two of my favourite things

Jesus and vintage. Though the aforementioned is a Person, of course, and what a Person. I especially love the image/statue of Christ the Redeemer as he appears in Rio, Brazil.


I want this!! (Cough, Mother's Day is coming... cough). Available at Amazon.

Oh dear; I'm about to go on Audrey overload

For as much as I love Audrey Assad, I have to admit that I don't own ANY of her albums. Isn't that the worst? A Christmas or two ago, I'd bought Fortunate Fall for my daughter. Then I "borrowed" the CD, and still haven't given it back. (She's OK with that, since she ripped the album into her iTunes library.)

To expand my Audrey repertoire, I've been listening to her tracks and playlists on YouTube, and loving everything I hear. Then I went to the iTunes Store and previewed all her tracks from all her albums, and I gotta say, I HAVE TO HAVE ALL OF THEM. That is all. This fantastic song is from her album Heart:



This is a great live version. Want the official video with lyrics? Go here. 

Do not be troubled; His eye is on the sparrow. Have a great day.

I've mentioned this artist before (and I will keep doing it until everyone I know has at least given her music a try), but if you want to be blessed and uplifted and refreshed and energized, LISTEN TO AUDREY ASSAD. This song is appropriate, because it's mid-April, and we are still sitting under three solid feet of snow. So try not to laugh when this video begins with the "Spring" quotation from Shelley. He obviously had never heard of Saskatchewan.

On a somber (and more hopeful) note, the song and video remind me of death and resurrection. I'm thinking of the men, boys and Dayna who "woke up in April" to eternal life, and to the broken hearts they left behind. I am praying for every one of you.  #BroncosStrong.


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Hello from the amusement park!

Last post (oh so long ago-sorry!), I said my life was like a movie. Not really. It's been more like this:

I love this classic photo, which has inspired countless internet memes. It's all the more funny to me because the terrified kid reminds me of one of my daughters (when she was little), and the girl holding her hand reminds me of my niece, who is close to the same age as said daughter.

Every time there's a chronological gap in my blogging, I allude vaguely to how challenging life has been, and I more or less hint that I may explain myself in time, but somehow I never do.

Sunday is supposed to be a day of rest

But I suppose there are various ways to define "rest." One thinks of the phrase, "A change is as good as a rest," and today I will have to hew to that version. After Mass, we're heading north (45 miles) to visit my husband's parents for the afternoon. In the evening, Hubby is going to drive our teens back to the parish for youth group, but I'm staying in town to see Faure's Requiem (woot! All my life I've longed to see that performed). I hope to catch a ride back home with a friend. Fingers crossed that it will all work out, and that the weather will cooperate (yesterday we had a blizzard, so you never know.)

But back to the idea of "rest."  There is this concept of "Resting in the Lord," and it's something we should strive to do on a regular basis, whether it's Sunday or not. Most people I know (including yours truly) seem inordinately stressed a lot of the time; it just seems to be the way life is. And there are no signs of it letting up, especially as postmodern society gets more bizarre by the day. 

We need to "get away," which is, I suspect, why people who can afford it --and even some who can't-- take exotic vacations. Some people of faith take pilgrimages to various holy sites in the world; others go on retreat as often as they can. But sometimes you just can't get away...or can you? 

The answer is yes. It's called prayer. More specifically, contemplative prayer, which mainly just means sitting still and quiet and focussing on God. Which is kind of hard to do, especially if you are a restless sort of person, or if you have a million things to think and worry about. But my main aid in this pursuit is listening to calm worship music. It's a way to touch and commune with God without leaving your bedroom.

One of my favourite artists is Audrey Assad. If you don't know her music, seriously, look her up. She has lengthy playlists on YouTube (not that I recommend those for prayer, since they are interspersed with annoying ads). I have her album Fortunate Fall, but I'm going to acquire more--in fact all of them. I love her that much. She helps me connect with God, and that is no small feat. 

If you have time today (and please try) sit still and listen to this track. And meditate upon the words. 

Lover of my soul, even unto death...

Have a blessed Third Sunday of Lent. 

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More heaven

This is yet another song that my daughter has been practicing. She accompanies the junior church choir for Sunday Mass, and also when they compete in choral classes in the local music festival. It is for the latter that she is preparing this piece, although (I hope) the choir will also sing it during the Easter Triduum.

I love this song because of its inherent beauty, truth and holiness, but also because it was composed by a Canadian duo for World Youth Day 2002 in Toronto, Canada. I will never forget that event, even though I could not attend (having recently given birth, which sort of chartecterizes most years of my life between 1988 and 2004). I watched it on TV, and Pope (now Saint!) John Paul II was of course in his declining years (health-wise), and the Canadian state TV network (CBC, a leftist outlet) were all cynical and critical and "oh he's so frail, he has to exit the plane with an elevator, yadda yadda yadda" and then the Holy Father left the plane of his own accord and WALKED down the stairs and rendered the reporters speechless. It was so satisfying.

The music for the Masses of WYD 2002 was just wonderful. I still get teary-eyed thinking about it, and I still watch reruns on YouTube. It was a moment in history--wish I could have been there.

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Ok, one more video

This is so incredibly cute! I'll bet Frank Sinatra, wherever he is (heaven, I hope) is smiling if he can see her.


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Touching heaven

Chopin at work

It's possible, and you can do it every day. There are so many ways: love, prayer, good food (as long as you don't overeat), acts of kindness, walking in the park, holding a baby, reading a good book, visiting a friend, wine (again, not too much lol), hugs, great art: MUSIC. Oh my goodness, music.

I get to touch heaven all the time at my house. I am so, SO blessed (in many ways) but in particular because my daughters --all seven of them-- are beautiful and talented musicians (sorry, girls! Moms have to brag sometimes). I have a large CD collection (that makes me sound so old, now that everything is online), and I also stream hours of music through YouTube. I'm SO old, that I'm still afraid of Spotify and Apple Music and other stuff I don't fully understand. But I DO have an iTunes account, and I've even purchased albums online, so there is hope for me yet.

But my greatest joy (artistically speaking) is live music. And I get to hear it nearly every day. My 15-year-old daughter is currently learning this piece. Chopin. Pretty sure I would die without him.

Here is the great Vladimir Ashkenazy. I have his 5-CD set The Chopin Experience (Mrs Beazly, get a load of this price!! Aren't you glad you bought it in 1996 for a bit less?)



There there is THIS GUY. I am so proud he's Canadian (though everyone calls him "Polish-Canadian," which is OK, because he is the son of Polish immigrants. Chopin was Polish too, despite the French name. What is it with those artistic Poles? Thank God for them anyway).

To call Jan Lisiecki a 'prodigy' is a misnomer, even though he finished high school when he was like 12 or something, and he's been an internationally touring concert pianist since he was 15. I have seen him perform three whole times. It is a sublime experience, as you may well imagine.



We were not allowed to take pictures during the performance, of course; I took this before Jan took to the stage. We were front row, centre. The picture is horrible, dark and blurry, but it's proof (yes, thanks to Google, spying on us 24/7 through our smartphones, I can prove that this picture was taken at the foot of the stage on the night Jan Lisiecki performed at TCU Place in Saskatoon last September). I was close enough to stand up and touch his shoe. Which of course I didn't do, because I did not want to frighten Mr. Lisiecki, or be arrested.

Wise men still seek Him

Happy solemnity of the Epiphany of the Lord!

I thought I would jot down a few notes inspired by Mass today. Here is the Opening Prayer:

“O God, who on this day revealed your Only Begotten Son to the nations by the guidance of a star, grant in your mercy that we who know you already by faith may be brought to behold the beauty of your sublime glory.”

It's funny (or sad) how sometimes the words of the prayers and readings of Mass go in one ear and out the other, without even pausing to register. And then other days, a sentence, or phrase, or word will jump out at you and sear itself into your brain, and inspire you to go home and meditate on it for a while. This phrase from the Opening Prayer caught my imagination this morning:

Happy Christmas Eve

To our Ukrainian and Orthodox friends!

Here is a lovely article about the traditions of Ukrainian Christmas. Being of Slavic descent, and having been gifted with a beautiful volume of Russian folk and fairy tales in the early 70's (thanks, big sisters!), and having been introduced to Catherine Doherty's writings at young age (thanks, Dad!) I have a great love for Eastern Christian art, spirituality, rituals, architecture, culture and so forth. (How did I not mention food in that list?) I have never experienced a Ukrainian Christmas Eve feast, but someday I would love to.

Happy January First: Solemnity of Mary, the Mother of God

One of Bourguereau's lovely paintings.

Happy New Year! This is not going to be a long post, because it's still holiday time, and I'm spending it with my family. Did 2017 go by as quickly for you as it did for me? I can't believe how time is flying. You'd almost think I'm getting old or something. 

But stop for a minute (at least) and think about this--even if you're not Catholic: God chose to have a mom. You know, GOD, creator of the universe, who existed before and outside all time and space. That should tell us something about how important it is to be a mom. It's the most important job in the world. And Mary did hers to perfection (everything she did pointed to her Son). That is why we honour her.

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Guest post

Ha ha, not really. But I'm phoning it in this morning (i.e., not really writing the content of this post). I'm heading off to Mass, and then my hubby and I are doing a bit of shopping and checking in on his folks.

My guest blogger this morning is the Prophet Isaiah, and his contribution comes to us from the Reading of Morning Prayer in the Liturgy of the Hours. (Isaiah 11:1-5). It is one of my favourite Advent readings; part of it is inscribed on our family's Jesse Tree poster. (Which sadly, my children have 'outgrown.') If you have not read any Scripture yet today, here you go! Two birds with one stone, so to speak:

Then a shoot will spring from the stem of Jesse,
And a branch from his roots will bear fruit.

The Spirit of the Lord will rest on Him,
The spirit of wisdom and understanding,
The spirit of counsel and strength,
The spirit of knowledge and the fear of the Lord.

And He will delight in the fear of the Lord,
And He will not judge by what His eyes see,
Nor make a decision by what His ears hear;
But with righteousness He will judge the poor,
And decide with fairness for the afflicted of the earth;

And He will strike the earth with the rod of His mouth,
And with the breath of His lips He will slay the wicked.
Also righteousness will be the belt about His loins,
And faithfulness the belt about His waist.

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The Urgency of Advent

Today, I offer our dear readers some used goods (slightly edited from the original). But I hope the message still resonates. This column was originally published during Advent 2012, in The Record, the newspaper for the Archdiocese of Perth, Australia. Once upon a time, I was their "Mom Columnist." The paper is no longer in print (alas, a victim of the digital age) but they still publish online. 

“URGENT!” I texted my sixteen year old daughter, “What key is "O Tannenbaum" in?” The reason for the urgency: I was at a church twenty miles away with my youngest children (10 and 8), the younger of whom was about to perform her first-ever vocal solo in public. My teen would know the answer because she had spent weeks accompanying her little sister on the piano at home.

This was my theory, anyway.

But for this anecdote to make complete sense, we need to backtrack a few hours. We had just finished lunch at home, and were about to leave for the event at which my daughters were scheduled to sing.

Me: “Do you girls need to bring any of your music with you?”

Girls: “Naww.”

Fast-forward. I am approached by the girls’ vocal teacher. “Does Sophia have her music with her?”

Me (sheepishly): “No.”  Then like any self-respecting mother, I quickly blamed my children for this state of events.

“It’s OK,” the teacher replied, “I have the song in another music book, but I need to know what key we rehearsed it in.” She was accompanying my tot on a digital piano, and could transpose with the press of a button. (Sometimes, technology is not evil, I will admit.)

I texted the question to my teen and breathlessly awaited a reply. Sophia was due to perform at any moment. The response came back: “A Major.” Unfortunately, the reply came about ten minutes after my eight-year old had finished her song. (Incidentally, I’m not sure how that works. When teens are texting their buddies, they seem to be able to manage about ten messages to the minute. When Mom is on the line, somehow ‘urgent’ seems to take on a slightly different meaning.)

Sophia sang like a little trooper, even though her teacher quickly discovered—to her dismay, but too late to adjust it—that the piano had been mistakenly set (by someone else) several keys below the range in which Sophia is used to singing. (For the non-musical out there, yes, it really does make a difference.) The happy conclusion is that the performance went well regardless; no one noticed anything was amiss.

There is, of course, a lesson to be gleaned.

It’s Advent: do you understand the urgency?  I have surely felt urgency, but probably not the kind the Lord intends (and I don’t wait for Advent; I start fretting in mid-October). Advent ought to be a time of waiting, reflection, preparation, anticipation, excitement, joy. Waiting? Oh dear, yes: in long, long line-ups at the till, or for that gift order to arrive from Amazon. Reflection? Only a blurry one as I dash past the big department store windows (gosh, it’s time for a new winter coat; this old one makes me look fat and frumpy). Preparation? Oh yes: baking, cooking, cleaning, driving, shopping, wrapping, hiding stuff. Anticipation? As in, I can’t wait for this to be over, so life can resume a slightly less frenetic pace? Excitement? Does feeling like you’re going to die of stress count? Joy? Not on the radar—call me in January, when this is all over.

When one is forced to stop and think awhile, it’s amazing what God can do. Thank heaven for Mass, good priests and homilies, and even, occasionally, editors.

My prayer for you this Advent is that you do not fall into the trap that I so often do. I neglect things like quiet prayer time, because I think I’m too busy. I forget that this season is a time to contemplate Christ’s Second Coming (and my own demise, which will likely happen much sooner). Am I ready? Have I seen to my eternal spiritual welfare? (Is sacramental confession near the top of my long Advent ‘To Do’ list?)

Do I get the urgency? 

Advent is not all Armageddon and Judgement Day, by the way: just re-read St. Luke’s Gospel (Chapter 21) from the First Sunday of Advent: “Stand up and raise your heads, because your redemption is drawing near!” If that doesn’t fill you with joyful hope, I don’t know what does.

We need to be a bit more like Sophia: relax, go with the flow. Stop creating your own false urgency (it’s often pointless: your Christmas guests want to visit you, not your gluten-free gingerbread cathedral).

Sing in the key you’re given, because it may just be where God wants you, even if you didn’t quite plan it that way.

Out of the mouths of babes. Even when they’re singing "O Tannenbaum," in the wrong key.

Copyright 2012, The Record and Mariette Ulrich

Kindly contact me at ladywriter.ulrich@gmail.com for reprint/quotation permission

Those interested in reading some of my other work for The Record may visit here. 

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"Let new and nobler life begin"

Happy New Liturgical Year! It's Advent, and thus the beginning of a new cycle in the Christian liturgical calendar. Every year, I try not to be overwhelmed by busy-ness, but instead try to focus on the spiritual meaning of the pre-Christmas season. This year I did what I have never done before at this time of year: attend an Advent retreat. And what a great idea that was. I hope to do something like this every year from now on.

The Day of Gratitude

So it's one of the last days of summer holidays. I slept in this morning. I convinced myself I deserved it, because the last 36 hours ten years or so have been plagued by insomnia.

I berated myself for sleeping in, and indulged in guilty feelings and other useless negative emotions. But then I decided to adjust my attitude and make good use of the hours that were left to me. 

I made the sign of the cross before I got out of bed. That was my quick morning prayer. I spoke the name of my God, who is a Holy Trinity, and I traced the lines of the Christian symbol of suffering on my body. Because life is (mostly) suffering.

Things writers love

A clean desk, some fun pens, a coffee (tea, mulled wine, or Hot Toddy) mug, a retro lamp, and a BIG FAT THICK STACK OF CLEAN FOOLSCAP! Do you remember foolscap? Do they still make foolscap? Maybe. I don't know, but if they do, it's called something else. Because the word "fool" (when used as a noun) is probably some kind of micro-aggressive, unsafe-space, hate speech.

This is cool, and I did not know it. I always thought perhaps foolscap got its name because it made the best dunce caps.

The Lord fills the earth with His love

I was going to title this post: "There's so much ugliness in the world," but that's not very positive, is it? (Even if it's true.) But I started writing the post Wednesday night, and then I became too tired to finish it. It was a depressing week (and I started saying that as early as Tuesday, which is never a good sign): sick kids, annoying financial stuff, gloomy weather, the Blue Jays lost, crimes, war...  And then there's the American election (which I won't discuss), but oy-- there is no possible happy outcome on that score, unless the world ends with Christ's Second Coming before Election Day.

And then I went to Mass Thursday morning, after which in our parish we have Adoration of the Blessed Sacrament. The Response to the Psalm was: "The Lord fills the earth with His love," which I thought would make a much better title for a post. Because it's also true, and much of how we live our lives depends on which aspect of truth we choose to focus on. The Lord fills the earth with His love, and some of it comes in the form of Beauty. These are all from my garden.

Prairie storm: the light is always so spectacular.

I can't remember how many years ago I planted this bulb, but this was the first year it bloomed! It only gave me one flower, but hey, who's complaining? Too bad she was splashed by mud, for it had just rained.

My Hollyhocks must have been eight or nine feet tall this year. I wish I'd measured.

If by now, you have concluded lilies are my favourite flower, you are correct. 

But I love Hollyhocks too. The candy-pink ones were lovely this year.

And these! Just gorgeous. I don't know where this strain came from; this is the first year they showed up in my garden, and I couldn't be more delighted. 

A long-shot of my rather messy, un-culled perennial bed.
I call it the "St. Francis bed," because he watches over it, and sometimes gives the birds a snack. 

I love my potted plants too. 

The whole Hollyhock gang, at sunrise. 

When you have insomnia at 5:00 a.m. in July, this is what you do:
 come outside and take pictures of your flowers and the sunrise. 

My pride and joy (actually, one of many): Montenegro Asiatic Lily

Back to Hollyhocks.

A bouquet I made for my Mom and Dad. Everything came from our backyard.

From my rose bush. One of my daughters made this bouquet for me.

Relaxing on the patio at sunset.
"Pace" salsa jars make great tealight holders! (And Pace means "peace" in Latin.)

Good night, sleep tight. The Lord fills the earth with His love.
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