<![CDATA[Keeping a Book of Centuries

<![CDATA[Keeping a Book of Centuries - in my notebook...]]>Wed, 15 Apr 2026 00:54:32 -0400Weebly<![CDATA[In my Commonplace...]]>Mon, 13 Apr 2026 18:40:15 GMThttps://www.bookofcenturies.com/in-my-notebook/in-my-commonplace9354639

By Albrecht Dürer, "Young Hare"

"I realized that my own home range had changed because of the leveret. Before, I had no settled pattern of my own. If anything, given the amount I travelled, I spent most of my time in the home ranges of others. Now I circled the barn and the hare, and I had my own preferred paths. Hares are creatures of habit and I had become one too. Through the leveret, I had rediscovered the pleasure of attachment to a place and the contentment that can be derived from exploring it fully, rather than constantly seeking ways to leave it and believing that satisfaction can only like in novel experiences."

~ Chloe Dalton, Raising Hare: A Memoir

]]><![CDATA[In my Music Notebook...]]>Mon, 30 Mar 2026 12:33:59 GMThttps://www.bookofcenturies.com/in-my-notebook/in-my-music-notebook6337481

Soll mein Kind from Brockes Passion G.F. Handel (1685-1759)

Mary:
Soll mein Kind, Mein Leben sterben, (Must my child, my life, die?)
Und vergeist mein Blut sein Blut? (Must my son shed his blood?)

Jesus:
Ja, ich sterbe dire zu gut, (Yes, I die for your good.)
Dir den Himmel zu erweben. (To gain heaven for you.)

]]><![CDATA[In my Picture File...]]>Mon, 09 Mar 2026 14:44:01 GMThttps://www.bookofcenturies.com/in-my-notebook/in-my-picture-file5120401

"Blossom", Paul Greenwood

Coming soon to a theatre near us!

]]><![CDATA[In my Nature Notebook...]]>Mon, 09 Feb 2026 15:15:37 GMThttps://www.bookofcenturies.com/in-my-notebook/in-my-nature-notebook1364542

Edwardian Silver Travel Paintbox (for serious keepers)

]]><![CDATA[In my Music Notebook...]]>Mon, 09 Feb 2026 00:28:18 GMThttps://www.bookofcenturies.com/in-my-notebook/in-my-music-notebook9886868

because Mardi Gras is coming

]]><![CDATA[In my Gratitude Journal...]]>Mon, 02 Feb 2026 14:36:06 GMThttps://www.bookofcenturies.com/in-my-notebook/in-my-gratitude-journal9113815

Drawings of whales in the log of the ship Indian Chief kept by Thomas R. Bloomfield (1842–1844) (source unknown)

"I invite you, therefore, in the name of the Church, to the observance of a holy Lent…"Ash Wednesday Liturgy, Book of Common Prayer

Isn't this notebook beautiful? Today I am grateful for the practice of Lent and One Hundred Days of Keeping and people who look long and feel passionate enough to keep a record. Ash Wednesday is just around the corner (February 18, 2026) Who's up for a new (or newly loved) notebook?? This year I am going to be combining my love of Alphabet books with a gratitude practice a friend told me about at Thanksgiving...each morning gathering thankfulnesses from A-Z on one page from the day before. Let us know in the comments what kind of notebook you'd like to keep this year. And even if it feels daunting, and the notebook doesn't materialize, know the desire is the important part. On the fence? See One Hundred Reasons.

]]><![CDATA[In my Commonplace...]]>Tue, 06 Jan 2026 14:12:08 GMThttps://www.bookofcenturies.com/in-my-notebook/in-my-commonplace4877786

"But if being a follower of Christ invites us to be Christ’s hands and feet, are we not also Christ’s eyes?"

~ Diana Butler Bass
(on Epiphany)

]]><![CDATA[In my Commonplace...]]>Fri, 19 Dec 2025 14:03:14 GMThttps://www.bookofcenturies.com/in-my-notebook/in-my-commonplace9021048

"Only one clear quality marks an action as either good or evil: If it increases the amount of love in the world, it is good. If it separates people and creates animosity among them, it is bad. "

- Leo Tolstoy

]]><![CDATA[In my Poetry Notebook...]]>Mon, 15 Dec 2025 19:26:58 GMThttps://www.bookofcenturies.com/in-my-notebook/in-my-poetry-notebook1501440

A Child in a foul stable,
Where the beasts feed and foam;
Only where He was homeless
Are you and I at home;
We have hands that fashion and heads that know;
But our hearts we lost - how long ago!
In a place no chart nor ship can show
Under the sky's dome.

This world is wild as an old wives' tale,
And strange the plain things are,
The earth is enough and the air is enough
For our wonder and our war;
But our rest is as far as the fire-drake swings
And our peace is put in impossible things
Where clashed and thundered unthinkable wings
Round an incredible star.

To an open house in the evening
Home shall men come,
To an older place than Eden
And a taller town than Rome.
To the end of the way of the wandering star;
To the things that cannot be and that are,
To the place where God was homelsss
And all men are at home.

- G.K. Chesterton

]]><![CDATA[In my Poetry Notebook...]]>Thu, 20 Nov 2025 14:41:24 GMThttps://www.bookofcenturies.com/in-my-notebook/in-my-poetry-notebook2451895Winter Poem
When the geese are flying south
And the sky is grey, my dears,
Close your eyes, and lift your nose;
Listen with your careful ears.

Feel the winter coming on,
Hear it in the crackling trees;
Note the crisping, quivering wind
Sharply snapping at their leaves.

Feel it on the windowpanes –
Chilly glass on fingertips –
Mark the biting of the air,
Heated breath on numbing lips.

See it in the early eves,
In the glowing sunset where
Shadows of the naked trees
Rattle in the biting air.

Watch the nuthatch and the wren;
They know it is time once more
To abandon careful nests,
As they’ve done each year before.

Let it rest upon your face,
Let it reach and pull you in.
See how pretty nature is
When she ushers winter in.

~ Barbara Vance
Excerpt from the poetry collection “Suzie Bitner Was Afraid of the Drain”]]>