come sit by my fire

Happy Valentine's Day!!

2012-02-14T12:51:00.003-06:00

I don't know about yours,
but my Valentine's Days are always filled with hearts and flowers,
bubble gum, temporary tatoos, candy hearts, and chocolate.

I get beautiful handmade cards
and stick drawings of myself
proclaiming me both an angel and an angle.

You just can't beat spending your days with kids.
And, getting paid to do it?
Well, that's just the icing on the cupcake.

I hope your day is filled with sticky kisses
and homemade cards. However it is packaged,
I hope you know that you are loved.

You are, my friends, you are!

Can you believe that's a scan of a card I received today? It was made entirely by a second grader. No joke.

Little Rock

2012-02-07T08:59:00.005-06:00

Our family recently visited Little Rock. We love American history and have a goal to visit every state capitol and presidential museum. Over the years I have been so amazed at the ways in which the capitols vary and really do reflect the people and the state's values. I always leave feeling as though I had gained new insight into a place. While we were in Little Rock, we also visited the National Park created to celebrate the Little Rock Nine and their incredible achievement.

Do you know about the Little Rock Nine? They were the brave high school students who integrated Central High School in 1957. They faced incredible persecution in order to create new opportunities for themselves and those who came after. They are brave. Like Ruby. They are heroes. My heroes. My daughter's heroes. Maybe yours, too?

This site is a good place to start learning more.

Sunday Morning Poetry

2012-01-29T07:26:00.006-06:00

One of my earliest memories is of being bundled
up by my mother and taken outside on a snowy
January night to look at the stars.

I must have been four or five,
still small enough for my slender mother to carry.

We stood on the veranda of our house in Virginia,
a heavy shawl wrapped around us both,
gazing over white fields at the sky
as my mother pointed our the constellations she knew.

"The North Star is the brightest star in the sky, "
she whispered, her warm breath wreathing my ear.
"Once you find it, you can always figure out where you are."

Nestled against my mother,
I found this instruction both sensible and enchanting,
and I have never forgotten it.
by Suzanne Berne
from Perfect Mornings, Perfect Memories

so many angels

2012-01-24T11:01:00.005-06:00

Sometimes we feel a lot like this rock formation, don't we?
Alone. Isolated. In a barren place.

And then...
Oh, and then.

We open our hearts and find that there are
so many angels just waiting to take us in.

Thank you, friends.

I took the photos on our road trip vacation this summer.

an unexpected absense

2012-01-20T10:46:00.003-06:00

I have never been one to write the sad things. I almost never record the hardest moments of my life. The act of writing wholly immerses me in my feelings. And since I don't want to feel worse, I very rarely write the pain. If you could read my old journals, you would find gaps, stretches of time when I wrote almost nothing. Those were the hard times. Those were the moments of great struggle or pain. I never write the sad.

And so I have been away from this place. I have not been here for weeks - a longer blogging absence that I've experienced. In fact, I am not certain why I am here now. I am still sad. Still struggling. But, I am hopeful, too. Maybe they are right. Maybe we can accept loss if we give ourselves some time. I don't know.

What I do know is that I am tired of being away from here. I have been missing my friends, missing our connectedness. And so I am here. Without much to say, I know. But still here...

Say hello, won't you?

2012

2012-01-01T09:41:00.004-06:00

I have a prayer for you, my dear friends. And for me.

This year...
May you recognize your blessings.
May you experience wondrous growth.
May you take every opportunity to laugh
and never miss a chance to serve others.

May your challenges make you stronger.
May you have more tears of joy than of sorrow.
May your family be safe and happy
and your friends hold you near to their hearts.

May you grow and learn, laugh and play.
May you never forget to show love and to be grateful.
Most of all, may you go with God, and trust Him each step of the way.
Happy 2012, friends.

Sunday Morning Poetry

2011-12-25T09:38:00.004-06:00

Luke 2

And it came to pass in those days, that there went out a decree from Caesar Augustus that all the world should be taxed. (And this taxing was first made when Cyrenius was governor of Syria.) And all went to be taxed, every one into his own city. And Joseph also went up from Galilee, out of the city of Nazareth, into Judaea, unto the city of David, which is called Bethlehem; (because he was of the house and lineage of David) To be taxed with Mary his espoused wife, being great with child. And so it was, that, while they were there, the days were accomplished that she should be delivered. And she brought forth her firstborn son, and wrapped him in swaddling clothes, and laid him in a manger; because there was no room for them in the inn. And there were in the same country shepherds abiding in the field, keeping watch over their flock by night. And, lo, the angel of the Lord came upon them, and the glory of the Lord shone round about them: and they were sore afraid. And the angel said unto them, Fear not: for, behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people. For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord. And this shall be a sign unto you; Ye shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger.

And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God, and saying, Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men. And it came to pass, as the angels were gone away from them into heaven, the shepherds said one to another, Let us now go even unto Bethlehem, and see this thing which is come to pass, which the Lord hath made known unto us. And they came with haste, and found Mary, and Joseph, and the babe lying in a manger. And when they had seen it, they made known abroad the saying which was told them concerning this child. And all they that heard it wondered at those things which were told them by the shepherds.

But Mary kept all these things, and pondered them in her heart. And the shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all the things that they had heard and seen, as it was told unto them.

Merry Christmas, friends.

Bimbo

2011-12-22T21:14:00.009-06:00

Our family was living in Indonesia when I knocked out my brother's front tooth.

I was five and Brett was two, and it really was an accident. We were playing on the sofa and Brett was bending over to get a ball. His behind was stuck up in the air. It was as though there was a target just on his backside. I just gave him a little nudge on the rump and he went flying. Right into the edge of the coffee table. I guess I'm lucky that all he lost was a front tooth.

Being Indonesia in 1976, there were no surgical dentists in the country. Mom, Brett, and I had to travel to the Philippines to get my brother taken care of. I took my favorite stuffed animal with me. Bimbo was a monkey doll (pictured above) and my treasure. As we were leaving the plane Brett asked to hold my stuffie. I wouldn't let him so his requests turned into a whine. Pretty soon Mom made me let him hold Bimbo. I specifically remember telling her that "Brett is a baby and too young to keep up with Bimbo. He's sure to loose it." Mom made me let him anyway - no doubt to stop the whining and because I was the one who got us in the pickle in the first place. We had our first cab ride with Brett gloating over Bimbo the whole way. When we arrived at the hotel and the cab was long gone, I looked around for my monkey friend. Bimbo was nowhere to be found.

Brett had left him in the taxi. WAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!

My poor mother. Can you imagine being alone in a strange country with a two year old son who needed medical care and a five year old crying daughter who just wanted her monkey back? Mom tried to console me that some poor child who didn't have a lot of other stuffed animals back at home was sure to discover Bimbo and treasure him and love him and give him a good home. I wasn't having any of it. I wanted my Bimbo back and I wanted him NOW!

I didn't get him back. Of course.

What I did do was hold that over my brother's head off and on for years. When we got into bickering matches, and I couldn't find anything else to say, I could always end it with, "And anyway - you lost my Bimbo." Conveniently forgetting that he had only been two.

Fast forward to the Christmas I was 15. My brother was now 12 and a notorious tightwad. He always had plenty of money because he never spent it. Gifts from Brett were really from Mom with his name signed on them. Until that year.

It was Christmas morning and Brett was wiggling with excitement. It wasn't about his own presents, either. It was for me to open my gift from him. As I started to open it, my Mom told me that Brett had spent his own money to buy this for me.

Bimbo!

Mom had spotted it at a church yard sale. Brett had insisted on spending his own money to buy it for me. Even though Mom was happy to pay for it, he wanted this one to be 100% from him.

My best surprise ever. My best Christmas present. My best brother.

Merry Christmas, Brett.

The Junior Mint Christmas

2011-12-19T08:52:00.013-06:00

As adults, we all know that there is so much more to Christmas than just receiving presents. We know that the time we spend together and the love those presents represent are far more important. But, we also have to admit that the gifts are really, really great. To celebrate the spirit of love-filled giving, I thought I would spend this week before Christmas sharing stories of Christmas presents. I hope you'll join me each day to celebrate this season of gifts. I hope you'll share stories of your own in the comments. Merry Christmas, friends.

One of my favorite Christmas gifts of all time wasn't even a gift for me. It was a gift for my Mom, given over thirty years ago. To this day, whenever anyone in our family mentions The Junior Mint Christmas, we all smile. Let me tell you about it.

It was 1979 and we were living in the Azores, Portugal. My Dad was in the Army and we found ourselves in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean on Terceira Island. This was long before the days of email, cable, and cell phones. There was one television station and that signed off the air each night with the national anthem. If you wanted something, you bought what was readily available at the base commissary or PX. There was no internet, no catalogs but Montgomery Ward, and no affordable international shipping. In short, no shopping. In spite of the difficulties, my Dad always managed to do something amazing for my Mom for Christmas.

It was a few weeks before Christmas when a big box appeared under the tree. It was about half the size of today's copy paper boxes and it was labeled to Jackie, love Carl. My Dad told her to feel free to shake, she'd never guess what was inside. She shook it. And, don't you know, that thing rattled. A lot. Like a box of broken china. Dad said, "No. Nothing is broken. It's supposed to sound that way." All Christmas long we took turns shaking and guessing while Dad grinned and his eyes twinkled. I'll never forget Mom's puzzlement, her guesses, her laughter. Or Dad's delight as the guesses got odder and odder as time went on.

Christmas morning came and we all listened with our breath held as Mom gave the box one last shake. I can still see the smile on her face when she finally peeked inside. You would have thought it was a box full of diamonds. Inside was a gross, yes, 12 dozen, boxes of Junior Mints. Dad had talked the commissary officer into ordering Mom's favorite candy for Christmas. Candy she hadn't tasted in years - her perfect Christmas present.

I'm not sure, but I think Mom might have eaten the last Junior Mint the day we left the Azores for good. And, my best gift that Christmas? A lesson in loving, a lesson in creativity and thoughtfulness, and the confidence that comes from knowing your parents are truly in love.

Merry Christmas, Mom and Dad.

The picture above is of Split Rock just off Terceira Island.

Sunday Morning Poetry

2011-12-18T09:27:00.004-06:00

Stille Nacht

Silent night holy night
All is calm, all is bright
Round yon virgin mother and child.
Holy infant so tender and mild,
Sleep in heavenly peace.
Sleep in heavenly peace.

Silent night holy night
Shepherds quake at the sight,
Glories stream from heaven afar,
Heavenly hosts sing alleluia;
Christ the Savior, is born
Christ the Savior, is born.

Silent night holy night
Son of God, love's pure light
Radiant beams from thy holy face,
With the dawn of redeeming grace,
Jesus, Lord, at thy birth.
Jesus, Lord, at thy birth.

~ Joseph Mohr

thank you

2011-12-15T12:23:00.005-06:00

Some days I am just amazed at the way we are all connected.
There I sat; feeling sad.
I visited a friend who wrote about being honest and real and acknowledging sadness.

A few days go by and your loving support pours healing onto my bruised heart.
There I sat; feeling happier.
I visited a friend who knows that small wishes are the best kind.

And I know it again.
I know that love is what makes the world go round. Yes.
But. Compassion, connection, and friendships are what heals a broken heart.

May your hurts be healed, too, my friends.
Thank you for your love.

change is never easy...

2011-12-12T00:59:00.001-06:00

It became official Thursday night. The elementary school where I work is being turned into a magnet school. I staff I work with are all being sent to schools throughout the district.

My heart hurts.

Yes, this is a good decision for the school district. Yes, it will be a good thing for so many people. Yes, of course, I am grateful to still have a job. Of course. But.

But, I am heartbroken.

This place I work; this place I love; this beautiful season in my life... all of it is ending. And I am sad. Just sad.

People who don't work here think our sadness is just the stress of change. It isn't. Those of us who work here, know that we are a part of something special. That it just doesn't happen like this very often. We've made a family out of a disparate group of people. We've made a home out of a fifty year old building. We've made a life of service, together. We've found a family.

And my heart is broken to lose it.

Sunday Morning Poetry

2011-12-11T10:04:00.004-06:00

A Christmas Carol

In the bleak mid-winter
Frosty winds made moan,
Earth stood hard as iron,
Water like a stone
Snow had fallen, snow on snow,
Snow on snow,
In the bleak mid-winter,
Long ago.

Our God, Heaven cannot hold him
Nor Earth sustain;
Heaven and Earth shall flee away
When he comes to reign:
In the bleak mid-winter
A stable place sufficed
The Lord God Almighty
Jesus Christ.

~ Christina Rosetti

Celebrating...

2011-12-07T10:37:00.004-06:00

Week47 of the Wednesday Lists.
This is a time of year for celebration. Whether you celebrate Christmas, Hanukkah, Kwanza, the winter solstice, or something else we all benefit from the extra warmth, cheer, and beauty of this season. Here are a few ways I like to celebrate. My list is heavy on Christmas, since that's what I celebrate. Won't you share some of your own?

Ways to celebrate...

make cookies or peppermint bark and deliver them to your child's school to be placed in the teacher workroom along with a note of appreciation
when you sing carols, try to have this much fun
give your teachers and coaches gift cards - they really don't want those cute ideas pictured in magazines
give hugs, lots and lots of hugs
be patient, we all need it just now
listen to Danny Wright, Emile Pandolfi, and Tim Janis' Christmas music
watch the original Miracle on 34th Street
go caroling, really
when you buy practicals to donate to your local food bank, add a huge bag of MnMs, too
gather your family in front of the fire and read How The Grinch Stole Christmas to them - don't forget to do the voices
keep change with you and donate to every Salvation Army bell ringer you pass
remember what it is that makes you rich
wish everyone you see a loud and joyful "Merry Christmas!"
listen to this song a lot
decorate a small tree for your kitchen: decorate it with red gingham ribbons, popcorn garlands, and cookie cutters
throw an after-Christmas party: make it potluck and have everyone bring an ornament to exchange
remember to listen to children
send the seasons greetings - in the mail - on time

Sunday Morning Poetry

2011-12-04T08:32:00.001-06:00

Go he said,
Until rock gives way to sea, gives way to
Salt and air and the elements all—
Until feet touch land that creaks, melts and sighs.
Rippling, crashing, splitting beneath you,
It’s tired arms open to the cold of night—
Everything frozen, everything hushed.
And then, with eyes at rest, look closely.
Closer.
Closer still.
And in that moment, you will find me—
Indeed you will see.

~ author unknown, actually from an Anthropolgie catalog

It's that time of year...

2011-11-30T20:47:00.005-06:00

Week 46 of the Wednesday Lists.

A grown-up Advent Calendar

December 1 - put out the Nativity scene & decorate the Katie tree in the Sparkle room
December 2 - go to the December Art walk downtown
December 3 - spend the day alternating between decorating the rest of the house and the big tree & reading, have Mom and Dad over for a chili supper that night
December 4 - after church, order in really good pizza, snuggle up, and watch It's a Wonderful Life
December 5 - string more popcorn garlands for Sloane's tree and have a carol sing-along
December 6 - go to our small group dinner out and exchange names for the Christmas party
December 7 - put lights in every window and on the roof-line and bushes this year
December 8 - decorate the porch with more than a wreath
December 9 - girlfriend date at Silver Dollar City
December 10 - Christmas shopping with Sloane, choose our Angel Tree gifts
December 11 - Christmas shopping without Sloane
December 12 - write & address Christmas cards
December 13 - finish Christmas cards
December 14 - mail Christmas cards
December 15 - wrap Christmas gifts and put under the tree
December 16 - light a fire and read lots of Christmas books aloud
December 17 - work on Sloane's Alaska album
December 18 - go on a Christmas lights photowalk
December 19 - family game night
December 20 - bake Christmas cookies & wrap presents for students
December 21 - class Christmas party day
December 22 - wrap last minute presents
December 23 - Persephone arrives!
December 24 - attend Christmas Eve candlelight service
December 25 - Merry Christmas!
December 26 - after Christmas sales with Mom
December 27 - small group after-Christmas party
December 28 - annual ornament exchange and party

How do you plan to celebrate the season? Happy holidays, friends!

Sunday Morning Poetry

2011-11-27T00:02:00.003-06:00

Who made the world?
Who made the swan, and the black bear?
Who made the grasshopper?
This grasshopper, I mean-
the one who has flung herself out of the grass,
the one who is eating sugar out of my hand,
who is moving her jaws back and forth instead of up and down-
who is gazing around with her enormous and complicated eyes.
Now she lifts her pale forearms and thoroughly washes her face.
Now she snaps her wings open, and floats away.
I don't know exactly what a prayer is.
I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down
into the grass, how to kneel in the grass,
how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields,
which is what I have been doing all day.
Tell me, what else should I have done?
Doesn't everything die at last, and too soon?
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
With your one wild and precious life?

~ Mary Oliver

I took the photo at Mesa Verde this summer. The picture and the poem, The Summer Day, both remind me that life is wide, precious, and far too brief. I have to say, though... I do know how to pray. And I know just who made the world, the brown bear, and the grasshopper.

Thanksgiving

2011-11-24T19:24:00.007-06:00

It has become a tradition for everyone present to help write my Thanksgiving Day blog post. Everyone here joins me in wishing you a happy, happy Thanksgiving. We pray your year will be joyous. We pray you'll know bone deep how very much you are loved. We pray you will know you are blessed each day that you live. From our home to yours happy Thanksgiving, my friends. I love you.

a list of gratitude

* Arlen's life * Sloane's height * mashed potatoes and gravy * Sloane-made pumpkin pie with whipped cream on top * friends * our Bible study group * Thomas Elementary * spurts of energy * trip to Alaska with my granddaughter * full stomachs * dogsled ride * turkey * warm house on a cold day * a paid for house, every day * old friends * a good doctor * Alaska * a house we can afford * long walks * left-over turkey sandwiches * ice skating * cute clothes * polka dots * the Bible * the way my Daddy always does the dishes * getting taller * Thanksgiving * great jewelry * Post it notes * thoughtful people * good health for my family * hot air balloon rides * Mesa Verde * kites * craft projects * It's a Wonderful Life * root beer * blogging * half of half store * Target * shooting * photography * a beautiful home * working in a library * Papa * cousins * still being able to work at 74 * travel * paid for, dependable, fuel-efficient automobiles * Tara, Briana, Melissa, Anita, Kelly, Krista, and Katie * students that remind you of why you do the job * Alert * tabbouleh * having a job * grandparents * America, America, America * the right to vote * dogs, dogs, dogs * the way our puppies look curled up asleep in their doghouse * the power of prayer * a clean, organized closet * Doug Reeves and his bow tie * Christmas is just around the corner * books * friends at work * comparatively inexpensive fuel prices * star gazing * blogs * wood fires * no school * public libraries * purple * the increasing gospel opportunities around the world * birthdays * Jeffrey's family * used book stores * Persephone * glasses * 2012 Olympics * colored ink pens * swimming pools * cameras * rainbows, after Joplin tornado * unimpaired vision * taste buds * road trips * Lauren and her family (Sloane's best friend) * chocolate * God's blessings yet to come * faith * laughter * family game nights * wonderful sisters * pizza * Sloane's cross necklace * movie nights * fresh, running water * showers * the way we are always needing new bookshelves * having enough * paperbackswap.com * Littlest Pet Shop * pretty dishes * free pain medicine * Walther P.22 * Wednesday Wars * iPods * veterans * Bapak * service men and women * vintage cameras * JD * good podcasts * lace curtains * adventures * teachers * Mrs. Highley * Ibu * magazines * choices * Sloane, Sloane, Sloane * the chance to be a parent * life * liberty * Gareth * stuffed animals * love * hugs * kisses * affection * giggles * love, love, love *

2011-11-23T22:38:00.002-06:00

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving Day.
The house smells like pumpkin pie.
Sloane rubs her eyes - too tired to stay up any longer.
I sit and sigh, and know I am a woman blessed.

Happy Thanksgiving, friends. I am so very thankful for you.

Sunday Morning Poetry

2011-11-20T09:57:00.006-06:00

A Song on the End of the World

On the day the world ends
A bee circles a clover,
A fisherman mends a glimmering net.
Happy porpoises jump in the sea,
By the rainspout young sparrows are playing
And the snake is gold-skinned as it should always be.

On the day the world ends
Women walk through the fields under their umbrellas,
A drunkard grows sleepy at the edge of a lawn,
Vegetable peddlers shout in the street
And a yellow-sailed boat comes nearer the island,
The voice of a violin lasts in the air
And leads into a starry night.

And those who expected lightning and thunder
Are disappointed.
And those who expected signs and archangels’ trumps
Do not believe it is happening now.
As long as the sun and the moon are above,
As long as the bumblebee visits a rose,
As long as rosy infants are born
No one believes it is happening now.

Only a white-haired old man, who would be a prophet
Yet is not a prophet, for he’s much too busy,
Repeats while he binds his tomatoes:
There will be no other end of the world,
There will be no other end of the world.

Warsaw, 1944

Czeslaw Milosz 1911–2004
Translated, Anthony Milosz

put your nail belt on

2011-11-18T19:55:00.006-06:00

I was talking to Jeffrey the other day about the way some people are able to accomplish so much more than I am in the same 24 hours. I always feel rushed and hurried, and I wonder what their secret is. He reminded me of a friend of ours. This man was running his own business and remodeling a house on his own time; to say nothing of his commitment to church, his friends, and family. Jeffrey asked him one time how he ever managed to accomplish so much. Joram said, "When you get home, first thing you do is put your nail belt on." He meant that you don't take a break. You get home, and you get to work. I've been trying that for the past two weeks. Joram was right. If I stop, I'm a goner - that laundrey will never get done. But, if I get right to work, I finish the day with so much more accomplished.

That's not to say that Joram didn't know how to play. He definitely did. He worked hard and he played hard. He just knew his goals and what it would take to reach them. One of my goals is to not let the chores pile up. That way, when it's time to play - there's nothing on my mind. I'm free to play.

How about you guys? Do you put your nail belt on as soon as you get home? Or do you find yourself "relaxing" far longer than you'd planned? How do you accomplish all that you do?

The cherub pictured above is the little brother of my giggling cutie from last week. I am having so much fun with these family photoshoots.

like a squirrel

2011-11-17T23:02:00.006-06:00

November is kicking my butt this year.
Every day is rush and hurry and scurry.
I feel like a squirrel readying herself for winter.

Yes, I am tired.
But, oh! I don't want to stop.
All this hurrying and scurrying is good stuff - fun stuff.

Like this weekend.
We're celebrating Sloane's tenth birthday at a hotel
with her four best friends and an indoor pool. How cool is that?

And get this.
She made her own cake;
a peanut butter chocolate confection she invented.

She made her own cake
because she wanted to make something wonderful to give her best friends.
What a kid!

I need a quiet place like this one just now. Taken at the Old State House Museum in Little Rock.

people are about as happy as they choose to be

2011-11-16T11:11:00.007-06:00

Week 45 of the Wednesday lists.
With thanks to Mr. Lincoln for the title.

Things that make me happy today

* Sloane is coming home from Alaska tonight! * Sloane and my Mom got to ride and drive a dogsled. * I attended the most wonderful reading conference for the last two days. * Some of my blog readers noticed my absence and missed me while I was gone. ;^) * My photos of the little guy up there make me very happy. * I learned lots and lots and lots at the conference. * It is an absolutely gorgeous day! * My kids were all glad to see me. * Sloane is coming home tonight! * Thanksgiving is just around the corner. * I have a great bunch of women that I get to spend my days with. * Jeffrey. Jeffrey, Jeffrey, Jeffrey. Just typing his name makes me smile. * The people I work with are patient with my mistakes and tender with each other. * Our PTA donated all their left over carnival prizes for our Christmas Around the World party. * By the way, Sloane is coming home tonight!

What about you? What makes you happy today?

Silly Celebration, take four

2011-11-11T17:35:00.001-06:00

Today is 11-11-11. It's become a tradition for me to celebrate this triple date with you. I've had so much fun coming up with a variety of lists each year. Today is also Veteran's Day. So, before I go any further, I'd like to thank every Veteran for their service to our nation.

Eleven Lists of Eleven
all lists in no particular order

Eleven ways to thank a vet

write a thank you note to a veteran you know
teach your children to respect soldiers
call your favorite veteran today, say thanks
support the troops currently serving
fly your flag today
support our military
attend a parade and cheer till you're hoarse
any time you see a person in uniform, go up and thank them for their service
support military families and be sure to thank their spouses
find a parent whose son or daughter is currently serving, tell him or her you are praying for their child
VOTE! Make the sacrifices worthwhile

Eleven ways to love your country

when the national anthem plays: stand up straight, put your hand over your heart, and sing along
learn the rules of flag etiquette and follow them
learn some patriotic songs
teach them to a child you love
when you go on walks, take along a trash bag - keep America beautiful
let your children hear you speak positively about our nation
pray for our nation's leaders
when you think something is wrong with our country work to change it
stop complaining, start campaigning
when you have the chance to say the Pledge of Allegiance, really think about the words
VOTE! It is a sacred privilege.

Eleven ways to give

mail Christmas cards and packages to soldiers overseas
take a child you love to buy a toy to give to Toys for Tots
fill a shoe box for Operation Christmas Child
buy $10 of extra food each time you do a grocery shop; take it to the nearest food pantry
sponsor a child through a program like World Vision
deliver a meal to a sick colleague
support St. Jude by making a donation
instead of buying lattes for a month, donate the money to your local shelter for battered women
participate in a breast cancer awareness run
call up the animal shelter and ask what they might need; dog food, cat litter...
call your local elementary school and ask if there is a needy family you can sponsor this Christmas

Eleven big ways to make a difference

volunteer at an elementary school
next time, go buy a burger for the homeless guy at the intersection
consider being a Big Sister
become a CASA volunteer
give blood
regularly spend time with an elderly person
pay tithes
consider volunteering at your local community center as a tutor
contribute to a politician you believe in
help with a voter registration drive
VOTE! It is your biggest responsibility as a citizen

Eleven little ways to make a difference

return your grocery cart to the corral
return someone elses's cart while you are at it
bring something for the bake sale
spend lots at school carnivals
take a moment to chat with your cashier
leave a bigger tip
stop at the high school band car wash
when you receive good service, tell the manager
share your recipes
when you love a product, spread the word
offer to keep your friend's child for an evening

Eleven way to love your husband

never, ever talk badly about him to anyone
notice when he does a chore
DON'T redo something he just did
participate in his interests
thank him for all the things he quietly takes care of
offer a back rub
hold hands in the car
snuggle during the movie
don't grumble about his little quirks
never say, "You always..."
have sex more often

Eleven ways to love a child

listen
answer questions
let them decorate their own room
apologize when you are short tempered
apologize when you are wrong
carry the heaviest burdens, but give them enough to carry to make them strong
say yes every chance you get
set clear, reasonable boundaries and communicate them
always discipline quickly, but never in anger
every once in a while, skip the healthy dinner in favor of pizza
LISTEN!

Eleven ways to love your parents and grandparents

call
call again
call every single day
disagree if necessary, but do it gently
mail the thank you note
protect their dignity as they age
send pictures often
ask questions about their lives and interests
listen to their stories without sighing because you've heard it before
hug them close every chance you get
be patient

Eleven quick organization projects

sort the recyclables and haul them off
get rid of the shoes you never wear and polish the rest
tear out the articles you liked and recycle the rest of the magazine
toss all your old spices and only replace the ones you really use
toss old Christmas ornaments this year and buy new lights on sale
clean out your medicine cabinet
clean out the junk drawer
tidy your computer desktop
update to a digital address book
clean out your desk drawer at work
clean out your email folders and in-boxes

Eleven images to make you smile

Flying Squirrel Hiding in a Tree, Norihisa Inomata
a symphony in yellow, Paul Frederickson
Celebrity, complejo
ladybug, photographer unknown
Amy & Lewis, Freya Blackwood
barn buddies, photographer unknown
the owl owns this town, Penelope and Pip
cutest baby photos ever, Stephanie Robin
anything by Abigail Halpin
bubble fancies, photographer unknown
a little king, photographer unknown

Eleven habits that will make you happy

seat dance in the car
put things away as soon as you get home
smile at strangers every chance you get
practice guerrilla acts of kindness
pay at least two compliments a day
hug your friends; they need it and so do you
say "I love you." often
sing in the shower
do more than is expected of you
keep a list of the things you are thankful for
read every day

Happy 11-11-11!

All numbers thanks to Leo Reynolds.

What do you miss?

2011-11-10T21:55:00.004-06:00

I've been thinking about the quiet tonight. Sloane is gone and it makes our house feel uncharacteristically quiet and empty. It's funny how one person can fill a space and make it breathe with laughter and joy. My parents gave Sloane a trip to Alaska for her birthday. She's going to see a dogsled race, ride a dogsled, and, if the weather cooperates, see the Northern Lights. I'm so excited for her I can hardly stand it.

I guess tonight I'm just thinking about my baby. Missing her. Just now I miss the sound of her. The slow, quiet breathing when she is asleep. The giggles and laughter when we are playing. The non-stop chatter all the rest of the time. I miss the sound of her.

What do you miss when your loved ones are away?

Northern lights in Alaska photo via Buy Me Posters.com.

simple pleasures

2011-11-09T22:53:00.003-06:00

Happy autumn, my friends.

2011-11-08T22:14:00.005-06:00

This is it; Sloane's last night as a nine year old. As we were snuggling before bed I asked her what she will remember most about being nine. She said, "our trip to Oregon, Mesa Verde, Christmas, feeding the dogs so much at Thanksgiving, giving the dogs bacon for Christmas, Mrs. Schmitz (third grade teacher), lots and lots." Then I asked her what she was looking forward to about being ten. Her answer was funny. "I don't know. The kids' menu usually ends at 12 or 13, so I guess being ten will be pretty much like being nine."

My girl.

She's very pragmatic, like her Daddy. Neither one of them would ever spend the night before a birthday crying over their child. That's me. All me. I find that I need to mark the passing of time. I think it's important to take a few moments to really notice all we are leaving behind as our little girl grows up. I want to spend time saying "thank you" for all I've been given as the mother of this amazing girl. I want to remember. I want to sit quietly and listen to her breathe and smell her sweet scent.

And then I always look forward. I pray over my child. I sit and caress her sweet face. I bless her; much like Abraham did over his sons. I commit Sloane to God and ask for His protection on her and on our family. I pray that He will give her only enough trials to help her grow kinder and more Christ-like. I pray that He will use her to do amazing things for His kingdom. I pray He will keep her safe and whole and healthy. I pray that her mind and her body will grow stronger every day. I pray she will use her blessings for His glory and never squander them. I pray He will let her know, bone-deep, how very much she is loved.

And then I kiss her. And wipe my eyes. And sit down here to write once again about the joys of being Momma.

The photo above is by the amazing photographer, Jim Mayfield. He took this of Sloane when she was nearly three.

Food Rules

2011-11-07T21:04:00.010-06:00

It's funny; all the delights blogging can bring to your life.

Like this little book.

I am so excited TLC book tours gave me the chance to tell you about it.
If you eat; if you think; if you struggle with your weight;
if you simply want to be healthy: you really should read this book.

Author, Michael Pollan, has simplified his incredible body of work
into one immensely readable book of rules.

Like this one, written especially for people like me,
Treat treats like treats.
And this: Eat only foods that will eventually rot.

Just good, simple advice. The kind that makes you slap your head and say,
"Duh. Why didn't I think of that?"
I don't know, but I am sure glad he did.

What makes this book so special are the whimsical illustrations by Maira Kalman.
It's her art that makes you go back to the book again and again.
And, that's great because this is one set of rules it wouldn't hurt to memorize.

I hope you'll read this book, my friends.
You won't be sorry.

...

2011-11-06T21:34:00.005-06:00

Doesn't this little face just make you smile?
Me, too.

November eves

2011-11-05T20:03:00.005-05:00

It's 8 o'clock on a Saturday night and I am sitting here listening to the wind chimes on the back porch. From time to time the dogs jump on the back door to peer in the window, which makes the door rattle. It's a sound that calls us out to spend time with them. Sloane is bundled up because the night has turned cold and the wind is arctic. She keeps saying, "Mom, are you ready? Are you coming? Let's take these dogs for a walk." And I say, "Yes, let's. The moon is beautiful, let's go enjoy this night."

And I think of you one last time tonight. I wish you a long walk with chattering child, an exuberant dog or two, and the man you love. I wish you cold toes and a warm heart. I wish you warm mittens. I hope that you notice the curious way that laughter is carried better on a cold night.

Good night, friends. Sweet dreams.

Friday Linky Love

2011-11-04T16:29:00.001-05:00

Here's a round up of some fun and favorites to brighten your weekend. May your weekend be full of blue skies and balmy breezes.

vivaree ~ a fantastically creative and fun contest. The contest is over, but the comments are well worth reading.
sappling press ~ the funniest stationary I've ever seen
Eliza Deacon ~ a marvelous photographer I've only just discovered
Air Kiss ~ a blog that celebrates a simple, rich life
New Fairy Tales ~ perfect for reading on a cold night

...

2011-11-03T23:04:00.001-05:00

What haunts you?

in just one week

2011-11-02T10:43:00.005-05:00

Week 44 of the Wednesday lists. Sloane turns ten in seven short days. We have big plans and exciting adventures in the works. But, what I want to do today is remember nine.

Sloane, at nine

I want to remember...

her joy at getting glasses and her wonder at just how beautiful the world really is.
the first time she saw a picture of herself without glasses and didn't like it because they had already become so much a part of her.
the way that she grew closer and closer to her Daddy as she began to share more and more of his interests.
that she just couldn't cheer for the Cardinals to win the world series, even though we live in Missouri. They had beaten the Braves; her Daddy's team from way back.
the time she had to write a commercial for class. She chose to do one about Relyn Lawson photography.
her excitement in doing things or buying gifts for other people.
the time she put her hands on her hips and said, "Mom. We have GOT to do something about this closet."
the way she grew into her height and is now proud of being the tallest student at her school instead of embarrassed by it.
her first pimple and how earnestly she asked me to help her take care of her skin.
her passionate desire to grow her hair out, and the willingness to take care of it herself.
how astute her observations of other people are.
that she is always considerate of others.
how well she respects others' privacy - I am a Nosey Nelly myself.
her exact tone of voice when she's fully ready for school and asks, "How do I look?"
her first crush.
her willingness to forgive and move on.

Oh, I am so blessed.

NaBloPoMo

2011-11-01T21:12:00.005-05:00

NaBloPoMo? What? I have no idea what that word means. I think maybe National Blog Posting Month? Not sure. But. The idea is this: for a single month you post every day. For some of you, no big deal, you do it all the time. For me? Challenge. I just don't make it to the "page" every day. But, for this one month a year, I do.

I hope you'll join me. I hope you'll stop by more often. And, I hope you'll leave a comment. I live for comments, you know.

See you soon. Till then, a little video to make you smile. And hug someone.

Who says Monday is a blue day?

2011-10-31T12:44:00.004-05:00

I am having a fantastic day and I wanted to come share the love.
Yes, it's the 31st and that means teaching is nearly impossible.
Yes, tomorrow will be even worse because of all the sugar highs.
Yes, I had two students fighting today and that always makes me sad.

True, true, true.

But, it's all in what you choose to focus on.

Like having a wonderful job in a tough economy.
Like laughing with students and watching them enjoy the season.
Like finding out a cancer scare was an empty threat.
Like knowing a beloved brother in law heals a bit more each day.

Attitude is everything, my friends. Everything.

And we are all so blessed.

another BIG list

2011-10-26T09:37:00.008-05:00

Week 43 of the Wednesday lists.
I have a confession to make before I share my list for this week. Two years ago I wrote a BIG List and it was energizing and wonderful. Last year? Well, I... uh.... well... OK, OK, I wrote one and then didn't do a thing. Actually, I did one thing. And it was the most important one, but still... I have no idea why. I guess I was preoccupied with other things. But, it's a new year (my years always begin in October) and I find myself full of energy and optimism.

41 things to do before I turn 42

paint my front door & shutters & add new house number
submit an article to the Somerset family of magazines
buy a Lisa Leonard necklace
create at least one lesson a week for the Smart Board
turn Keri's 100 ideas into a regular blog feature
meet at least two new blog friends in person
write and MAIL at least one letter a week
plan and host a parent night for my students and their families
interview my father-in-law about his childhood
spend my time well this year
take four camera classes at my local photography store
attend the theater at least twice
create and hang my inspiration board
make walking a daily habit
have at least 5 paid photoshoots this year
plan and attend an artsy-crafty art night for 4 or 5 girlfriends
learn how to quilt
be brave and attend the women's retreat this year
transfer all my home videos to DVD
finally find the perfect apple crisp recipe and bake often for Jeffrey
tearoom date with Dulcy
call my mother every day
go visit Grammy
write thank you notes promptly - all year long!
participate in some street art of my own
have at least five weekends this school year with absolutely no working
have a date night at least once a month
begin art journaling
mail out Christmas cards this year - on time - not in February
read all the forgotten books that are living on my shelves
begin to learn Photoshop Elements - at least learn how to put a logo on my photos
finally finish compiling all of Sloane's Friday Album (a picture every Friday from her first year of life)
spend more time with my brother, Persephone, and her Mom
spend real time with my parents at least once a week
begin a girls cooking night with Sloane
make and purchase a book of my blog's greatest hits
go cliff jumping with Sloane and Jeffrey at Johnson's Shut Ins
attend at least two concerts
frame and hang all pictures I've collected
family trip to Disney
do something I absolutely think I can not do

What's on your list? Go ahead, inspire me.

The photo is one of Jeffrey's favorites of mine.

Sunday Morning Poetry

2011-10-23T08:08:00.001-05:00


In the Library

There's a book called
"A Dictionary of Angels."
No one has opened it in fifty years,
I know, because when I did,
The covers creaked, the pages
Crumbled. There I discovered

The angels were once as plentiful
As species of flies.
The sky at dusk
Used to be thick with them.
You had to wave both arms
Just to keep them away.

Now the sun is shining
Through the tall windows.
The library is a quiet place.
Angels and gods huddled I
n dark unopened books.
The great secret lies
On some shelf Miss Jones
Passes every day on her rounds.

She's very tall, so she keeps
Her head tipped as if listening.
The books are whispering. I
hear nothing, but she does.
~ Charles Simic

happy thoughts to make up for yesterday's whining

2011-10-18T08:54:00.008-05:00

It's a rainy gloomy day today and a 12 hour work day, to boot. I need a little pick me up.

Things To Do When You're a Little Blue

cloud watch
visit favorite blogs
Pinterest on your lunch break
search for an old friend on Facebook
make a list of things you loved to do as a child
read Alexander and the Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day
color for 10 minutes while you listen to your favorite songs
leave thoughtful comments on three new to you blogs
count your blessings, name them one by one
watch your favorite I Love Lucy episodes
buy this and eat it while reading this
watch this or this or this
go on a picture walk
call your mother

What do you do when you are feeling blue?

Jeffrey said I should have named yesterday's post "A Little PMS". Ok, he didn't say that exactly. He did point out very lovingly that I was a bit hormonal. I did get what I hoped for with that post, though. Some sympathy and a good thing to say from now on. Thanks, friends.

Whining - only a little though

2011-10-17T12:29:00.014-05:00

You know what really gets me? What makes me laugh, but with mild frustration? Well, I'll tell you. It bugs the fa-zizzle out of me when someone looks at my pictures and says, "Your camera takes good pictures."

Seriously???

I want to respond, "Actually, I take good pictures. But, thank you." Too tacky, I know. So I just let it go. I smile uncomfortably and wonder what to say. The good camera helps, of course it does. But, the best camera in the world can't create composition or knowing just which moment to capture. That, my friends, is all up to the photographer. If you doubt it, visit my friend Susan, who has a very simple camera.

How should I respond to comments like that? Come on. Let me have it. Tell me what you think please.

The Girls Who Name Things

2011-10-14T22:56:00.004-05:00

One of the quirks I have always loved about Sloane is the way that she names absolutely everything. She has named the preying mantis she discovered and kept for a day (Amen), her grandparents' car (Bob), even the regular route we drive (Home, James). I find that adorable. So it was pretty funny when I realized that it was a habit that came directly from me. I name things, too. I almost always name the things that I use regularly.

Since I was 15 and got my first car, I have named every one of them. As to the car I drive now, it took me years to discover his real name. It's Bic. You know? As in Bic pens. They sure aren't fancy. They aren't gel pens and they don't write in great colored ink, but they get the job done. Dependably and reliably. Every time. Yup. He may not be fun, but he's dependable. He's Bic.
Meet Bic.

Meet Gareth

What kind of things do you name? Or do you name anything but people and pets?

make your own dreams come true

2011-10-13T09:01:00.006-05:00

Have you ever had something you wanted to do so badly
that you could almost taste the desire?

That's how I was with riding a hot air balloon.

I had longed to do that since the first time I saw
the incongruous, nearly magical thing.

Imagine!

Floating high over the Earth, held up only by heated air.
As a kid, I thought it must be pure magic.

I was right.

This summer we made my long-held dream come true. You know who it tasted? Sweet.

Sunday Morning Poetry

2011-10-09T07:41:00.004-05:00

Invictus

Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds, and shall find, me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll.
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.

~ William Ernest Henley

a thankful heart

2011-10-07T11:04:00.002-05:00

Happy weekend, friends. I hope you find many reasons for saying grace.

I took the photograph at the Grand Canyon, but the wonderful quote was given to me by my new friend Pamela.

Tips and Tricks

2011-10-05T09:04:00.002-05:00

You know those ideas that are so simple,
so perfect that they make you slap your forehead and say,
"Duh. Why didn't I think of that?"

I love those ideas. Love 'em.
I get a kick out of discovering them and sharing them.
Somehow, a great new idea always makes my day.

Here are a few I thought just might make yours, all courtesy of Pinterest.
Click on the image for a direct link to the source.

So, what about you? Do you have any great ideas to share? Do tell.

2011-10-02T08:20:00.003-05:00

To Be Alive

To be alive: not just the carcass
But the spark.
That's crudely put, but...
If we're not supposed to dance,
Why all this music?
~ Gregory Orr

week 42

2011-09-28T12:37:00.000-05:00

Week 42 of the Wednesday Lists.

Things To Do This Fall
in no particular order

bake Jeffrey an apple crisp
watch Indian Summer - again
make a leaf garland for the mantle
take long family walks each evening
set out bowls full of Brach's pumpkins
change the tablecloth and other accessories
create a display of spooky books for my students
finally get brave enough to use my Impossible Project film
pack a picnic, the family, and the dogs and run off for a long scenic drive
read Dancing at the Harvest Moon by K.C. McKinnon
break out the sweaters and rearrange my closet
do something with our vacation photographs
let Sloane invite friends over for a bonfire
scent the house with cinnamon and apples
put out the new black and cream pillows
get ready for someone's Big 1-0!
go on several photo walks
rake a few leaves
study exposure
host a swap

Autumn Celebration Swap, take two

2011-09-26T10:58:00.004-05:00

The Autumn Celebration Swap is an exchange of lovely gifts with an emphasis on autumn. We did this last year and had a marvelous times. So many new friendships were made, and I encourage you to get in on the fun. Here in North America, October is when the days begin grow cooler and the nights longer. It's a perfect time for curling up with a good book and wearing something cozy. The Autumn Celebration Swap is for anyone who appreciates autumn, personal mail, and presents. I love, love, love mail and presents top my list of favorite things. I love the shopping, the choosing, the wrapping. I love ribbons and paper, stamps, and addresses. I adore this season, and I want to celebrate with other like-minded souls.

Exchange Details

Swap Partners: I will do my best to pair you with someone who has similar interests. You do not have to have a blog to participate, but you should have some sort of online presence. Please remember that it will be harder for your partner to get to know you if you don't have a blog, Facebook, Flickr account - something. You are also welcome to participate if you do not live in the USA as long as you are OK with the shipping.

Interests: Please be sure to include all the requested information in the comments section of this post. You can email me with questions, too. You'll find my email address on the profile page. You'll want to include your favorite links, Etsy shops, etc. so you can give your partner an idea of your style and tastes.

Gift Details: Your package can include anything you care to wrap and ship. However, please be sure to include at least these three things:

something created by you - by hand, on the computer, with a camera...
a perfect book for these long,long evenings - gently used books would be even better
something, anything that speaks of autumn to you & a note explaining the connection

As to financial guidelines, please plan to spend around $20, not including shipping. Obviously, you are welcome to spend more, but having a guideline might make everyone more comfortable. If you sign up, you are committing to sending a package filled with thought and love. Please plan to put real time and effort into the things you send, as well as how you present it.

Dates: Sign ups will remain open until Sunday, October 2 at midnight Central time. That gives us one week to sign up and to spread the word. Please do tell a friend! Partners will be assigned Monday, October 3. You will have 2 weeks to get to know your partner, shop, wrap, and send your package. Plan to mail your package by October 17.

Sign Up

To sign up, just comment on this post. Be sure to include all the information requested below. You won't need to include your address, as you can exchange that via email after you receive your partner.

Name
Website (blog, Flickr, shop)

Email Address
Location (city, state, country)

Are you willing to send overseas?
What are your interests?

Favorite shops?
Anything else you'd like to mention? (special requests, notes, etc)

If you are participating, would you please consider adding a link on your blog? Feel free to use the photo, too, if you'd like. I hope you'll play along. Let's celebrate autumn together.

Birthday Wishes

2011-09-21T08:34:00.009-05:00

Week 41 of the Wednesday lists.
It's my birthday soon and, as is our tradition, my Mom asked for a birthday/ Christmas wish list. It works! Last year I received several things on my list. Including the 100 yellow balloons. Why not try again?

This year I want...

an iMac with a HUGE screen

this image by Anne-Julie

a vintage camper and another long road trip next summer

this gorgeous calendar by my great friend, Georgianna

this excellent Sundance ring

a crystal chandelier

a custom address stamp and a new house in the country to go with it

this garden, this party, and especially this lace tablecloth

Hmmmm... Maybe I am hard to buy for after all.

Why Don't You?

2011-09-19T08:34:00.008-05:00

... get your calendar and schedule organized?
... buy a new 16 month calendar?
... sit down one evening and add all birthdays and anniversaries at one time?
... use a post it note placed a week ahead and create a to do list of easily forgotten things like buying gifts and mailing cards?
... honestly evaluate how many things in which you and your children are involved?
... try using different colored pencils for different types of obligations? I have hot pink for school, purple for Sloane, and green for church.
... consider saying no to the next obligation that comes your way?
... add a family night to the calendar each month? In pen.
... go ahead and schedule your weekly artist date?
... call ahead for hair cuts, colors, and pedicures?
... consider what you might be able to turn into a standing appointment?
... take a minute right now and set up a phone date or coffee date with an old friend?

a few summer blessings

2011-09-14T06:31:00.006-05:00

Week 40 of the Wednesday lists.
There is a chill in the air and I can hardly wait for autumn to really begin. As one season gives way to another, I always like to mark it and say, "Thank you."

Summer Joys
* one long road trip * learning how to create long exposure photographs * traveling with my parents * taking a picture of Sloane at the Petrified Forest that exactly matches one of my brother at the same age * the way Dad would pull over just in case I wanted to take a photograph * watching a herd of elks feeding on the hotel lawn at the Grand Canyon * visiting a new art museum * long nights and long walks * fireflies * sleepovers that last for days * baseball games * entire days with nothing to do but read * making a new friend * hanging new curtains fashioned from vintage linens * spending time at home; just the three of us and nothing to do * a kind friend who shares his pool so much it's like having our own * working ahead and planning lessons for all of first quarter * homegrown tomatoes * summer salads * meeting up with school friends * shooting my first wedding * stargazing * Jeffrey and Sloane's road trip to Oregon * small town festivals with the greatest lemonade ever * the library's summer reading program * meeting my niece for the first time * seeing my brother again * climbing around cliff dwellings at Mesa Verde * time alone with Sloane in an amazing hotel pool in Sedona * seeing our first book with fore-edge painting * riding the Sandia mountain tram in Albuquerque * watching lightening storms * great books and lots of time to read them * spending the Fourth at the ballpark * picnics *

What will you miss about summer?

September 12th

2011-09-12T12:33:00.006-05:00

The words below are a repost from two years ago. On the 10th anniversary of this tragedy, I find that I just don't have any words. What I said then was true, everything is going to be alright. And yet, for so many, the world will never be alright again. Today my heart breaks for the innocence we lost as a nation, and most of all, for the people who lost fathers, mothers, sons, daughters, neighbors, and friends. God bless us, every one.

If you are teenager or older, you can tell anyone who asks exactly where you were eight years ago yesterday. It's one of those moments that has passed into history in the same way that we remember Kennedy's assassination, the space shuttles, the moon landing... We all know exactly where we were when the towers fell.

I wrote about 9/11 last year, and I don't think I can say it any better now. Instead, I want to write about September 12. You see, we all remember 9/11. We mourn. We cry. We say the Pledge. We lower our flags to half mast. We feel sad and vaguely lost all day long. And all of that is as it should be.

And then we wake up on September 12 and we do what needs doing. Just like we all did eight years ago. This year we talked about 9/11 and then I read an amazing book to my class. It was written by a class of first graders, and it's called September 12th. The book says this:

September 12th was a new day. We knew everything would be all right. because...
the sun came up and the birds started to sing again.
We knew everything would be all right because we had homework.
2+2 still added up to 4.
We knew we would be all right because our parents said they loved us.

Isn't that the truth? Here's what I told my students this year:

We've talked already about what happened eight years ago. We've talked about the heroes, we've talked about courage. We've talked about how important it is to be the kind of person who is willing to do what is right, no matter what it costs you. You know all those things. But, before we are finished, I want to talk to you about September 12. That's a very important date in American history, too.

You see, that was the day that we all knew everything was going to be alright. And, here's how we knew. On September 12, firefighters and police officers all over the country went back to work, still ready to face a burning building. Doctors and nurses and ambulance drivers, some of whom hadn't slept yet, all showed up for work. Ready to help. Mommas and Daddies woke up, made breakfast, got their children dressed, took them to school, and went to their own jobs. On September 12, teachers all over the country met their students at the classroom door with a smile. Ministers went to visit people who were sick and hurting and confused. Friends called each other, made play dates, spent time together. People laughed and cried and hugged and ate dinner. Just lived. Like we always have. Like we always do.

If you want to know what a hero is, I'll tell you. A hero is a person who does what needs doing, no matter what. But, a hero is also a person who lives through something terrible and gets back up the next day and does what needs doing. Even if what needs doing is as boring as cooking dinner or doing the laundry. Heroes aren't only people who run into a burning building. Heroes are people like you. And me. And your parents. People who wake up every day and say, "I'm going to do the best I can with whatever comes my way. I'm going to do what needs doing. If it is homework, or chores, or grading papers. And then tomorrow, I'm going to do it all again."

Happy September 12, my friends. God bless us all.

9.10.11

2011-09-10T17:54:00.005-05:00

Do you know what today is?
Have you said the date outloud yet?
Today is 9, 10, 11.
How cool is that?

Ok. I know I am kooky and silly to love things like that.
But, I do. I really do.
I love dates that are odd
and other silly things.

I guess I just wanted to say it again.
Silly is good.
Celebrating is good.
A habit of celebrating the silly is even better.

Happy counting day.

Two of my friends, being silly - of course.

What's Your Number?

2011-09-07T05:15:00.002-05:00

Week 39 of the Wednesday Lists
I was just visiting a friend and she mentioned that she hates reading more than one book at a time. I had to laugh because I always read several at once. Then, I got happy. Because now I have my Wednesday list for this week. Thanks, Eccentric Lady.

9 or 10 Books at a Time...

* second grade read aloud - There is always at least one chapter book for read aloud in my classroom. My biggest surprise last year was how much all my students loved the Addy series of American Girl books. Boys, too.

* second grade story books for lessons - At least three a week, depending on the topics we're covering.

* family read aloud - Jeffrey and Sloane began the Lord of the Rings trilogy during their summer road trip to Oregon. We're still working on that one.

* professional book for work - Right now I am reading two; one I chose and one that was assigned. Guess which one I like better?

* fun book for personal book club - We just finished All Over But the Shoutin' by Rick Bragg.

* at least one non-fiction book - Full disclosure: This one usually lives in the bathroom and I read it in snatches while I am doing my makeup and drying my hair. Lately I've been reading Clinton Kelly's books.

* at least one novel - I just finished Matched by Ally Condie and loved it.

* audiobook - I also always have an audiobook going. I spent most of the summer listening to Jane Austen again.

What about you? How many books do you read at one time? Do tell.

Sunday Morning Poetry

2011-09-04T05:53:00.002-05:00

Do Not Go Gentle Into That Good Night

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rage at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
~ Dylan Thomas

Vacation Views, part 3

2011-08-29T21:31:00.003-05:00

Phoenix, Arizona

perfect day

2011-08-27T16:45:00.001-05:00

It's been an exhausting six weeks for Team Lawson. Even good things can wear you out, don't you know? We went from a 2 1/2 week road trip directly to back to school with less than 12 hours between them. After a crazy-busy week of meetings, bad news, lesson planning, classroom prepping, more meetings, and life-altering changes, school started.

If you want to know what the first two weeks of school feels like to an elementary school teacher, imagine the third or fourth month after becoming a mom. You are still delighted and slightly giddy. Still tired, but not dangerously so. That's the closest I can come to describing how very, very exciting, delighting, and exhausting these first weeks of school are each year. Every year.

I told a group of teacher friends the other day that back to school was like labor and delivery. God doesn't let us remember how truly difficult it is or no one would do it more than once. They all laughed. And agreed.

Today is the first quiet day we've had in seven and a half weeks. The first day without a single obligation. How to spend such a gift?

1. wake up when your body wakes you
2. go back to bed - there's no rush
3. eat a late, lingering breakfast with your love
4. go outside and play with the dogs
5. come in, have a cold Coke in an icy glass
6. curl up under the ceiling fan and read - all day long

Perfect day.

Photo above is my sweet baby on her first day of school.

wonderful words

2011-08-23T08:48:00.003-05:00

photograph by iAnton, used with permission
"Just a book?? That's like saying, 'just a magic mermaid with wings.'"
~ Sloane Lawson, age 9

Sunday Morning Poetry

2011-08-21T07:59:00.005-05:00

What a beautiful face
I have found in this place
That is circling all round the sun
What a beautiful dream
That could flash on the screen
In a blink of an eye and be gone from me
Soft and sweet
Let me hold it close and keep it here with me, me

And one day we will die
And our ashes will fly from the aeroplane over the sea
But for now we are young
Let us lay in the sun
And count every beautiful thing we can see
Love to be
In the arms of all I'm keeping here with me, me

What a curious life we have found here tonight
There is music that sounds from the street
There are lights in the clouds
Anne's ghost all around
Hear her voice as it's rolling and ringing through me
Soft and sweet
How the notes all bend and reach above the trees, trees

Now how I remember you
How I would push my fingers through
Your mouth to make those muscles move
That made your voice so smooth and sweet
Now we keep where we don't know
All secrets sleep in winters clothes
With one you loved so long ago
Now he don't even know his name

What a beautiful face
I have found in this place
That is circling all round' the sun
And when we meet on a cloud
I'll be laughing out loud
I'll be laughing with everyone I see
Can't believe how strange it is to be anything at all

~ lyrics by Neutral Milk Hotel

and it begins...

2011-08-10T06:32:00.003-05:00

It's back to school time.
The kids are here and happy and ready to learn.
I love second grade!

I love this time of year.

The picture above is a student portrait of me.
I never noticed how bowlegged I am. ha
At least she didn't color my hair gray, right?

I just love this time of year!

Sunday Morning Poetry

2011-08-07T09:29:00.006-05:00

her mind lives in a quiet room,
a narrow room, and tall,
with pretty lamps to quench the gloom
and mottoes on the wall.

there all the things are waxen neat
and set in decorous lines;
and there are posies, round and sweet,
and little, straightened vines.

her mind lives tidily, apart
from cold and noise and pain,
and bolts the door agains t her heart,
out wailing in the rain.

~ from a retelling of Grimm's Red Riding Hood

Art by Daniel Egneus. Read about this gorgeous book here. Poem first discovered here.

vacation views, part two

2011-08-04T16:14:00.001-05:00

vacation views

2011-08-03T10:08:00.006-05:00

To call a canyon like this Grand seems a bit of an understatement.
Don't you think?

I am so excited about this picture! Only the second time I've really and truly felt like a photographer was when I saw this picture. Which, by the way, is exactly as it straight out of the camera.

Team Lawson is on vacation...

2011-07-27T10:38:00.003-05:00

Can you guess where we are?

Is this a better hint?

I'm thinking of you and hoping your summer is fantastic.

in praise of silly

2011-07-22T19:56:00.006-05:00

I've written before about how much I love being silly.
I believe silly is a main ingredient to a happy life.
Silly makes you happy, makes people around you happy,
and, if you're lucky, makes for a great family photo.

I made this collage from a photoshoot I did with one of my best friends and her family.

I remember...

2011-07-20T09:01:00.001-05:00

What is it about summer time that makes me remember so much?

I remember that when we would visit Mamaw and Aunt Rita we would always go shopping. Mamaw could always be counted on to say, "Ya'll ready for a Coke? Come on. Let's set down and rest our feet a minute." I loved that about her. We would sit and sip cold Cokes and rest a little. And laugh. And tell stories. And jokes. And laugh. And just be happy to be together.

I remember the particular smell of a Texas-hot car; the creak of metal as the door was opened and the way that the heat would roll out in shimmering waves. I'd always look for a genie as if that hot car were the bottle in which he was imprisoned.

I remember sticking to the car seats and the squelchy, horribly wonderful sound your bare legs would make as you pulled them up.

I remember hours and hours with nothing but the hum of a ceiling fan, the turn of a page, and the cold sweetness of an orange Popsicle. Days spent sleuthing with Trixie, Honey, and the Bobwhite gang.

I remember choosing the grape Popsicle even though I loved orange best because I was going outside where Kenny was playing baseball. I remember thinking he might notice me since the grape-y stain on my lips would surely make me prettier.

I remember the smell of coconuts and chlorine and all the pretty older girls in their bikinis. I remember thinking that they sure would have a lot more fun if they'd actually get in the pool. What could be better than a tea party at the pool bottom? Except maybe a jump from the high dive.

I remember dragging my cousins' trampoline under their tree house and jumping off. I swear we bounced higher than the house roof. While we jumped, the boys played some version of war. I never told them I was pretending to be the cheerleader at the top of the standing pyramid.

I remember...

I remember...

age makes no difference at all...

2011-07-18T22:02:00.007-05:00

Can't you just see them whispering secrets?
Can't you hear their giggles?
I love that their friendship is already evident.

My brother came for a visit over the 4th.
We finally got to meet his daughter, Persephone.
How did our family go so long without such a little bundle of delight?

To say that Aunt Relyn cried all the way home
when Baby P left would not be an exaggeration.
To say that she owns our hearts already would be just about right.

Sloane, 9 1/2 years
Persephone, 5 months
Friends, forever

Sunday Morning Poetry

2011-07-17T09:18:00.003-05:00

I wasn't planning on being away so long. Life just sort of hoovered up all my time. Anyway, what better to return with than a little Billy? The photo doesn't really go with the poem, but it does show what I've been up to.
ADAGE

When it’s late at night and branches
are banging against the windows,
you might think that love is just a matter

of leaping out of the frying pan of yourself
into the fire of someone else,
but it’s a little more complicates than that.

It’s more like trading the two birds
who might be hiding in that bush
for the one you are not holding in your hand.

A wise man once said that love
was like forcing a horse to drink
but then everyone stopped thinking of him as wise.

Let us be clear about something.
Love is not as simple as getting up
on the wrong side of the bed wearing the emperor’s clothes.

No, it’s more like the way the pen
feels after it has defeated the sword.
It’s a little like the penny saved or the nine dropped stitches.

You look at me through the halo of the last candle
and tell me love is an ill wind
that has no turning, a road that blows no good,

but I am here to remind you,
as our shadows tremble on the walls,
that love is the early bird who is better late then never.

~by Billy Collins. from Ballistics © 2008

Happy Sunday, friends.

Sunday Morning Poetry

2011-07-03T09:18:00.005-05:00

O beautiful for spacious skies,
For amber waves of grain,
For purple mountain majesties
Above the fruited plain!

America! America!
God shed His grace on thee,
And crown thy good with brotherhood
From sea to shining sea!

O beautiful for pilgrim feet
Whose stern impassion'd stress
A thoroughfare for freedom beat
Across the wilderness.

America! America!
God mend thine ev'ry flaw,
Confirm thy soul in self-control,
Thy liberty in law.

O beautiful for heroes prov'd
In liberating strife,
Who more than self their country loved,
And mercy more than life.

America! America!
May God thy gold refine
Till all success be nobleness,
And ev'ry gain divine.

O beautiful for patriot dream
That sees beyond the years
Thine alabaster cities gleam
Undimmed by human tears.

America! America!
God shed His grace on thee,
And crown thy good with brotherhood
From sea to shining sea.
~ Katharine Lee Bates

Happy Fourth, friends. God bless America!

Five Minutes of Silence

2011-06-28T08:51:00.006-05:00

In Lawsonland, I teach my students a lot about their brain and how it works. We know that the brain needs quiet time, down time in order to process learning. This is what makes sleep so important - the brain spends most of that time sorting and storing the day's experiences into learning and memory. I've also noticed that children very rarely, if ever, experience silence. They don't even know what it is. Not really. To meet those two needs, I do something I call reboot. Immediately after lunch and recess, my students come silently into the classroom and have a seat. We spend the next five minutes doing nothing but sitting in silence. Our goal each day is to simply "breathe and be." Honestly, it takes a good while to train the class in how to do this, but once it becomes a habit, children crave it like they do recess.

...sit quietly for five minutes in the middle of your day and do nothing but breathe and be?
... commit to a silent hour one day a week?
... try a silent afternoon? Leave everything noise making behind - no camera, no watch, no phone. Grab a chair or a blanket and pillow. Head out deep into the country. Just breathe and be. It's amazing where your thoughts will take you.
... buy the July issue of Real Simple and read the article on silence?
... try a retreat of silence? In college I went to Intervarsity chapter camp. We were asked to go one day (really only about 6 hours) without talking. It was more difficult than you might think, but actually profound in its effects.
... begin your day as quietly as possible? Wake up to soft music. Turn it off and listen only to the sounds of your feet as you move around the house, your breath as you stretch and bend, the water as you shower.
... be more intentional with the television? Don't leave it on just for company or "white noise".
... make it a goal to become more comfortable with silence?
... pay attention to how much more you notice when the technology has been silenced?
... practice not rushing in to fill the gap in a conversation? Wait. Allow a little think time.

Shhhhhhh...

Sunday Morning Poetry

2011-06-26T11:02:00.006-05:00

How Do I Love Thee?
Sonnet 43

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.
I love thee to the depth and breadth and height
My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight
For the ends of being and ideal grace.
I love thee to the level of every day's
Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.
I love thee, freely, as men strive for right.
I love thee purely, as they turn from praise.
I love thee with the passion put to use
In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.
I love thee with a love I seemed to lose
With my lost saints. I love thee with the breath,
Smiles, tears, of all my life; and, if God choose,
I shall but love thee better after death.
~ Elizabeth Barrett Browning

I took this picture at the wedding last weekend. I snapped it immediately as the kiss was ending.

The Happy List

2011-06-23T22:03:00.004-05:00

Week 40 of the Wednesday lists
This happy list has been in my side bar for the three years I have been blogging. Have you ever read it? It's a really good list; a list of things that never, ever fail to make me happy. What things would be on your list?

love
kisses
flowers
little girls
brown eggs
arboretums
french toast
Frank Sinatra
Godiva truffles
summer tomatoes
a room full of books
hot pink post-it notes
Rosamund Pilcher stories
the sound of rain on a tin roof
vintage bicycle with bell & basket
first two Anne movies by K. Sullivan

the busy ants crawling in peonies
raspberries on baby bellies
the taste of honeysuckle
cupcakes and lollipops
magnolia blossoms
Victoria magazine
children laughing
gorgeous hats
office supplies
smell of lilacs
library sales
polka dots
tiny toes
whimsy
love

ah, love...

2011-06-21T07:59:00.003-05:00

Isn't there something so hopeful, so wonderful, so joyful about a wedding?

I was lucky enough to photograph my first wedding this weekend. It was a marvelous experience.

Sunday Morning Poetry

2011-06-19T07:27:00.007-05:00

When I was a child I looked so much like my Dad. It drove me crazy when people would comment on it. What little girl wants to look like a big, strong, handsome man? I didn't get it then that they weren't saying I looked boyish. Truthfully, I acted like him, too. I shared a lot of his qualities, quirks, and traits. I wanted to be like my Mom - tiny, perfect, and beautiful. Instead, I was like my Dad - a passionate leader who tended toward impatience, and not tiny at all. And now? I'm still not tiny and I'll never be as beautiful as my Mom. But, each day, I hope I can be a little bit more like my Dad. He's kind, compassionate, considerate. He's competent, smart, and wildly productive. He's just the kind of man I love and admire. He's just the kind of person I'm proud to be like. I hope I will grow more and more like him as I get older and wiser. I pray that others will see my father in me. Because my Daddy? Well, his heart looks just like our Fathers'. I love you, Daddy. Happy Father's Day.

I'm Seein' My Father In Me

Last night we brought the children by to visit their grandpa
And it's plain to see they're truly part of him
While we were there their grandma took out some old photographs
Man he sure looked a lot like me back then.

And today I took my wife for a walk down that old dirt road
And now looking back I can recall the times we disagreed
When I could not take gold of his old fashioned ways
And the more I tried to prove him wrong the more I proved him right
Now I know why he still stood by me when I went through that stage.

I'm seein' my father in me, I guess that's how it's meant to be
And I find I'm more and more like him each day
I notice I walk the way he walks I notice I talk the way he talks
I'm startin' to see my father in me.

And I'm happy to see my father in me...
~ Paul Overstreet

Friday Linky Love

2011-06-17T08:10:00.011-05:00

Happy Friday, friends. I am pleased to tell you that I have worked enough summer school now to pay for two and a half members of our family to go to Disney this Christmas. I'm also happy to tell you that, though I don't have my gumption back, I am feeling a lot better. Seriously, thank you all for your comments, kind thoughts, and good advice. I've been taking many of your suggestions. Most of all, I've been using my tried and true blues-curing method: counting my blessings.

On this happy, sunny Friday morning I wanted to share a little linky love with you. Here are a few of the inspirations I've enjoyed lately. Have a great weekend. Don't forget your sunscreen.

Pinterest
want this beautiful book
arty fun to try
awed. I'm awed by this
a blog for the crafty at heart
a great question
a big week coming up
a perfect summer image
on Netflix instant viewing now - YAY!

The wonderfully affirming art print is by Valentina Ramos and can be purchased for just $18.00 here.

gettin' my gumption back

2011-06-14T07:54:00.004-05:00

You know that expression, "My get up 'n go done got up 'n went."? That's me here lately. I tell you, teaching summer school is harder work than you might think. I don't know if it's because my body knows it's time for a break or if my mind does. Either way, I feel flat out of gas. Most nights it's all I can do to mange the supper dishes and laundry. That's not me. I'm usually up for anything and ready to play.

Hmmmmm... Obviously, it's time to take myself in hand. I think some help is needed.

Being a teacher, I am a fan of homework. I'm also a fan of teamwork and collaboration. So, I have an idea. Please give me an assignment: a bit of homework designed to spark my energy and get my juices flowing. Maybe you would be willing to ponder what revs you up and gives you a jolt of energy. Maybe you can suggest some things that might help me get my gumption back. I would be ever so grateful.

Happy day, friends, happy day.

Sunday Morning Poetry

2011-06-12T06:35:00.004-05:00

Languages

There are no handles upon a language
Whereby men take hold of it
And mark it with signs for its remembrance.
It is a river, this language,
Once in a thousand years
Breaking a new course
Changing its way to the ocean.
It is mountain effluvia
Moving to valleys
And from nation to nation
Crossing borders and mixing.
Languages die like rivers.
Words wrapped round your tongue today
And broken to shape of thought
Between your lips and teeth speaking
Now and today
Shall be faded hieroglyphics
Then thousand years from now.
Sing-and singing- remember
Your song dies and changes
And it not here to-morrow
Any more than the wind
Blowing ten thousand years ago.

~ Carl Sandburg

something cheering...

2011-06-09T08:04:00.006-05:00

I want to fill this post with sweetness and light.
I want to say, "Hello, friend. I hope you are well. I love you."
I want to leave you happy and cheered.

So I sit. And I think.
And I try to come up with something cheering.
Because I need it today as much as I want to give it.

You see, my heart is breaking for my sweet Sloane.
We have some mean girls on our street.
Imagine a trio of 14 year-olds ganging up on and making fun of a nine year old.

Imagine those same girls asking her why she would play with six year-olds.
Asking her why she doesn't have any friends her own age.
Saying that it must be because no one likes her.

Teasing her so much she finally just goes inside.
And when she gets there, she begs her parents not to deal with it.
Not to give those mean girls a stern talking to.

And this morning when her Momma asks if she wants to talk about it,
she answers, "Why? It's over. You just have to forgive them and go on."
And there I have it. My ray of sunshine.

It's her.
My Sloane.
It always is.

Why Don't You...

2011-06-06T05:57:00.007-05:00

... learn something new every day?
... sign up for tips and newsletters?
... use a daily calendar to learn a new joke or practice your origami?
... learn a new word every day?
... read fiction to learn how people think?
... read non-fiction to learn facts and information?
... read memoirs to learn about other lives?
... read blogs to be inspired?
... read poems to learn how to live?
... read the Bible and learn how to love?
... listen to learn compassion?
... write to learn what you think and feel?
... try something new and learn from your mistakes?

An autodidact is a person who is committed to self-education. Years and years ago I read a book by Kendall Forsythe Hailey called The Day I Became an Autodidact. It's still one of my favorite books ever. When I saw this sign, I felt at home. Do you know what I mean?

back to my weekly lists

2011-06-02T14:41:00.001-05:00

Week 38 of the Wednesday Lists.
Summertime has officially arrived in Southwest Missouri and schools are out. You know me, I hang on for just a little while longer than most. That's true for me whether we're talking about a new calendar year or an old school year. To celebrate the school year just passed, I thought I would do an illustrated list.

Why I Love Being a Teacher

I get paid to play water games and take pictures of beautiful children.

If I were ever to forget the power of imagination, there would be 20 little someones right there to remind me.

Children remind me every day that there is magic everywhere... in a dimple, in a honeysuckle bloom, in five minutes of extra recess.

We should all learn something new every day. I have daily proof of the joy and growth that brings.

I know how beautiful concentration can be.

I am able to give the gift of silly every single day.

What do you love about your job?

Nineteen is a marvelous number...

2011-05-31T05:27:00.002-05:00

Exactly nineteen years ago today I was giddy, eager, ecstatic...
I was ready to marry the love of my life.

We were about to begin this magic journey together.
We were so young. So tender and sweet. So absolutely sure.

We were right.

We've multiplied every joy and divided every sorrow.
I go to bed each night thinking, "I couldn't love him more."

I wake up each morning, and thank God.
Because I do. Every day. I do.

I love him more.

Jeffrey, my love, you own my heart.
I love you with my soul, with every part of me.

If I could go back nineteen years, I'd do it all again.
And I wouldn't change a thing.

I love you.

That's not our official engagement photo, but it was taken about the same time. My ring was off being sized. I'll have to scan my wedding photos and give you a peek. Maybe next year, for our 20th.

After the Storm

2011-05-23T20:58:00.005-05:00

By now I'm sure you've heard about the tornadoes in Joplin,
a small city about 50 miles away from us.

There are no words for such sorrow.
No words.
My heart is heavy tonight.

I keep praying.
Keep thanking God as more and more family and friends are reported safe.
Keep praying.

It's the only thing that helps.

Sunday Morning Poetry

2011-05-22T08:20:00.001-05:00

A year after she was widowed
at the age of forty-three,
she met a riverboat gambler
who didn't care about the odds.

When he invited her aboard his boat
she asked, "What kind of name
is 'The Elder'?
If it were to me
I'd call it 'Second Wind.'"

They were married before spring ended.

~ James Nocito

The story/poem is from a delightful book called Found Lives by James Nocito. I took the picture so long ago I don't even remember when or where I took it. It's been at least fifteen years, likely more. It doesn't quite go with the poem, but somehow, it still seemed to fit.

Sunday Morning Poetry

2011-05-15T07:22:00.004-05:00

Circus of Heaven

The day the Circus of Heaven came to town
Local folks lined the streets in a Midwestern town
Waiting anxiously for the parade to begin all around
On the very last day
A unicorn headed the mystical way
Surrounded by what seemed a thousand golden angels at play
Behind were Centaurs, elves, bright fairies all in colours of jade
On the very final day
For what seemed only just a moment in time
Seven solemn flying silvered regal horses rode by
Seven golden chariots in tow, a wonder to behold
The Seven Lords of the Mountains of Time
There then arose where nothing really stood there before
A giant tent rising one thousand feet high from the floor
Towns people flocked inside with their eyes all amazed
To greet the Seventh Lord of the seventh age
A fanfare rang out in an incredible sound
Bringing out the strangest visions perfect harmony round
Any dreams he asked would they like to have seen

From historical or mythical scenes
Then there above their heads just as vivid as life
Each vision transported multitudes inventing light
Grecian galleons, the sack of Troy, to the Gardens of Babylon
A play of millions roared along
The gigantic dreams of Alexander the Great
Civil wars where brothers fought and killed their friendship with hate
All seen by Zeus performing scenes in the magical way
The day the circus came to town
Outside great animals as tame as the trees
Angels high in starlight dancing streets
Turning their colours with indigo and gold
Dropping violet, red and emerald snow
As the circus finally changed its invisible course
A new world to be found
On the dreamy ground we walked upon
I turned to my son and said
"Was that something beautiful, amazing, wonderful, extraordinary
beautiful?"
"Oh! It was OK!! But there were no clowns, no tigers, lions or bears,
candy-floss, toffee apples, no clowns."

~ Jon Anderson of Yes

Just a quick hello...

2011-05-11T07:29:00.004-05:00

The world is greening beautifully, don't you think?

Hi, friends. I have been missing you and wanting to get in touch, so I am making the time. Now, when school starts in 40 minutes. I'm still in my bathrobe with dripping hair. Anyway. This is crunch week at school. Our big end of the year show is on Thursday and there is much to do to get ready. But, I at least wanted to say hello and tell you I'd be by this weekend.

Oh, yeah. Is anyone else having problem commenting? I went around the blog block a TON last week, but nobody can tell. I find that unless a blog has word verification turned on, no matter what I do, my comment doesn't go through. Even if I log out and go as anonymous. Any ideas for solutions?

YIKES! I really do have to go now. I love you guys.

Sunday Morning Poetry

2011-05-08T07:42:00.004-05:00

The Lanyard

The other day I was ricocheting slowly
off the blue walls of this room,
moving as if underwater from typewriter to piano,
from bookshelf to an envelope lying on the floor,
when I found myself in the L section of the dictionary
where my eyes fell upon the word lanyard.

No cookie nibbled by a French novelist
could send one into the past more suddenly—
a past where I sat at a workbench at a camp
by a deep Adirondack lake
learning how to braid long thin plastic strips
into a lanyard, a gift for my mother.

I had never seen anyone use a lanyard
or wear one, if that’s what you did with them,
but that did not keep me from crossing
strand over strand again and again
until I had made a boxy
red and white lanyard for my mother.

She gave me life and milk from her breasts,
and I gave her a lanyard.
She nursed me in many a sick room,
lifted spoons of medicine to my lips,
laid cold face-cloths on my forehead,
and then led me out into the airy light

and taught me to walk and swim,
and I, in turn, presented her with a lanyard.
Here are thousands of meals, she said,
and here is clothing and a good education.
And here is your lanyard, I replied,
which I made with a little help from a counselor.

Here is a breathing body and a beating heart,
strong legs, bones and teeth,
and two clear eyes to read the world, she whispered,
and here, I said, is the lanyard I made at camp.
And here, I wish to say to her now,
is a smaller gift—not the worn truth

that you can never repay your mother,
but the rueful admission that when she took
the two-tone lanyard from my hand,
I was as sure as a boy could be
that this useless, worthless thing I wove
out of boredom would be enough to make us even.

- Billy Collins

Happy Mother's Day to all women, but especially to my own mother. Mom, I know we'll never be even.

bridge jumping

2011-05-05T07:16:00.003-05:00

That sign might look like good advice at first.
Someone might even think, "Duh!"
I did.

And, then, I thought again.
And, I remembered how much fun it is to go cliff diving.
And I thought that jumping off a bridge is likely just as much fun.

And, then I thought again.
And, I wondered what other opportunities in my life I've passed right by.
Have I walked past an adventure, thought, "Duh", and missed it?

Of course I have.
I bet you have, too.
So. Here's to boldness.

Here's to courage.
Here's to asking strangers if I can take their picture,
asking for a raise, trying something new...

Here's to bridge jumping.

getting it right...

2011-05-02T18:59:00.000-05:00

There are moments when you breath a small sigh of relief and know that, thank God, you got it just right. Tonight I had one of them.

Jeffrey and I are the kind of parents whose mantra (if we had one) would be, "Let them be little." Sloane has only just now been allowed to watch a few PG movies, and then only those we've previewed and approved. We don't buy teen magazines and don't watch movies that feature teenagers in love. We think childhood is already way too brief and if we aren't careful, the world will push Sloane to grow up way too fast. Our comments to Sloane on the idea of boyfriends has always been along the lines of, there will be plenty of time for that later.

Isn't it funny the way that later always arrives when you least expect it?

Sloane came to me a little bit ago and said, "Mommy, Lauren said I should tell you something."

"What is it, baby?"

"I have a crush on _____." (Insert the name of the cowboy who rocks the tennis shoes here.)

"Oh," with a smile. "That's alright. You know that don't you?"

"Yeah, I know. Lauren just said it was more fun if your Mom knows."

"I'm glad you told me. Know what? I'm pretty sure he has a crush on you, too."

At that moment, she had as beautiful a smile as I have ever seen. I said, "It's nice when it happens like that, isn't it? It feels good."

Sloane gives a vigorous nod, a mysterious smile, and then a really BIG hug, "I love you, Mommy."

"I love you, too, baby."

Yup. Later comes quicker all the time.

A Passion for the Written Word

2011-04-30T21:24:00.011-05:00

That this is the final day of this month of passions, is especially appropriate since our last guest is my favorite person of all, the person who makes my every other passion possible. My husband Jeffrey supports my every effort, all my interests, each endeavor. Today's post is an example of that. As I talked to Jeffrey about my month of passions, he offered to write about his own for me. Yes!

We were with my parents tonight and talking about the royal family. I said something about how hard it would be for most men to be married to a queen, but not be king. My Mom said, "Jeffrey could do it. He would stand behind you every step of the way. He'd be your backbone, your strength and your sounding board. And he'd do it all without any attention or credit." As usual, my mother is right. And really, Mom, that's just what he does now. That's Jeffrey exactly: my backbone, my strength, my wisdom, my passion, the love of my life. I'm so excited for you guys to get to meet him. This is Jeffrey, my husband, the butter to my bread and the light in every darkness.

What is my passion? Well, I have a few, but somehow they are all connected to reading. So maybe I could say that literature entwines itself into all my passions. Okay, I am a librarian; I can’t help it. Like most people in my profession, I have loved reading at least as far back as my earliest memories. Those memories include my mother reading Little House on the Prairie to my brother and me, as well as Dad reading Tom Sawyer and a novelization of Disney’s Davy Crockett to us. Books can take my breath away, break my heart, and inspire me all in the space of ten pages. Bilbo’s adventures still thrill me, Edmund Dantes still causes my heart to ache, and Johnthan Edwards still challenges my brain and my soul. I read all those pieces of literature before I had turned seventeen, and they still hit me hard. But you know what? I am not unique in this. I am not even rare―especially not in my profession.

So, what is special about my passion for literature? I have been ruminating on one answer to that question as a result of reading the educational research book Focus by Mike Schmoker. Schmoker quotes Kelly Gallagher as writing, “I am a different person because I have read 1984. I see my government differently, I consider privacy issues differently and I have a heightened sense of propaganda and language manipulation – all because I have read this novel.” Schmoker goes on to say, “I, too, am a different person, as are many of you, because of the characters and ideas I have encountered in prose and poetry.”

The reason my passion for literature really matters? A few of those works of prose and poetry did more than inspire, thrill, or sadden me. They changed me. They left me a different person.

What are those life-changing works of literature? Well, funny you should ask…

The Holy Bible ―

For me these precious, sacred pages are not a cliché nor are they obligatory. In these pages, I met the Jesus the touches a leper before healing him. Think what that touch meant to a man that had been ostracized in ways very few of us can even comprehend. In these pages the prophets of old burned into my soul the need to fight against the oppression of the poor, the weak, and the unlovely. In these pages, I truly learned that my fate is not determined by my meager strengths or even my deep inadequacies―I am a man cradled by GRACE!

To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee ―

Simply put, I want to be Atticus Finch when I grow up.

“Self-Reliance” by Ralph Waldo Emerson ―

“There is a time in every man's education when he arrives at the conviction that envy is ignorance; that imitation is suicide; that he must take himself for better, for worse…”

These lines and so many others from Emerson’s genius gave me the intellectual underpinning to have the courage to ignore peer pressure as a teenager. I could not read those words and give up what I knew to be true just because someone else wanted me to or expected me to.

“Some keep the Sabbath going to church” by Emily Dickinson ―

Picture a poetry-hating boy sitting in a junior level American literature class and the teacher assigns the poetry of this crazy recluse from Amherst, Massachusetts. I was that boy, but one poem’s title caught my attention, because I keep the Saturday Sabbath. I read that poem, and it changed me. I suddenly thought maybe there is something to this poetry thing. I have never stopped loving it since then, and it has never stopped changing me (Thank you for this gift, Janet McPeters.). Because of a crazy recluse from Amherst, I found the worlds of Robert Frost, Adrienne Rich, Billy Collins, and even Shakespeare. But the most significant things I found after Dickinson opened my eyes and my mind are the next two pieces of literature.

“Ulysses” by Alfred, Lord Tennyson ―

My wonderful senior English teacher, Diane Whittaker, assigned this one to me, and twenty-three years later it still makes my heart race. I sat in an old radiator-heated classroom in 1988 and knew I must drink my life “to the lees.” I want to write on and on about how this poem affected who I am. So many lines from it course through my veins today, in this very instant:

Yet all experience is an arch wherethro’

Gleams that untravell’d world whose margin fades

Forever and forever when I move…

…As tho’ to breathe were life!

…To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.

Today as then, reading those lines makes me want to sound Whitman’s barbaric yawp and pump my fist in the air.

One of my few regrets as a teacher and librarian has been that I have not found a teenager that this poem inspires, but I will strive, I will seek, I will find, and I will not yield.

“Curiosity” by Alistair Reid ―

“Jeffrey, you always have so many questions.” or “Do you always have to know why?” These are things I have heard all my life. It felt like most of the people with authority in my life thought something was slightly wrong with me because I could not let anything rest until I knew WHY. Sometimes it was uncomfortable, and then Diane Whittaker (Yes, her again) assigned “Curiosity” to my senior English class, and I found affirmation that not only is my curiosity okay, it is an imperative. In fact the problem is with the “wagging of incurious heads and tales.”

Face it. Curiosity
will not cause us to die--
only lack of it will.

Theories of Relativity by Barbara Haworth-Attard ―

Here, at forty-years-old, in my tears, I discovered compassion for those that I had deemed worthy only of my scorn. Never underestimate the power of young adult literature.

Louis L’Amour’s Body of Work ―

I know many people belittle his work, but I truly owe so much of who I am to Louis. I suppose that is why some small part of my heart still longs to be a cowboy. But far bigger are the things his characters taught me. I learned to crave education, to work hard, to punch hard and first if I have to. But the best gift Louis gave me was the knowledge of the kind of woman I wanted to spend my life with―a smart, strong woman that would walk beside me not behind me. And I found her―a woman “to ride the river” with. Thanks, Louis.

Frank Merriwell’s School Days, Frank Merriwell’s Foes, & Frank Merriwell’s Chums by Burt L. Standish ―

Most people have never heard of Frank Merriwell, and yet these didactic little novels changed who I was. These turn-of-the-century novels for boys were intended teach youngsters how to have good character. And you know what? It really worked for my brother and me. When I have been loyal, courageous, or tenacious, at least some part of that is Frank Merriwell popping up in my heart. If I were a cartoon character, he would be the face of the good angel on my right shoulder.

Before picking up each of these pieces of literature, I was not who I am, but each of them has been a significant step toward becoming me. Therein lies my passion for the written word. Every time I pick up a new piece of literature, I cannot know if I will be the same person when I have finished reading. I cannot even be sure I will still be recognizable as the person I am now. This is powerful. This is dangerous. This is sublime.

A Passion for the Possibility of Words

2011-04-28T09:04:00.005-05:00

I am so excited about our guest today. HKatz, of the Sill of the World, has a way with words like no one I have ever known. Her Week in Seven Words posts thrill me, make me think, and often give me a shiver of recognition. She finds the best videos to share and her photographs reveal a woman with an eye for story.

Human language is a blessing, a wellspring of beauty, poetry, vision, and possibility, prayer and healing.

Words in all their rich variety are cells in the living organism of language. Words are alive with meaning and sound; they interact to form connections and bonds.

I think of words as spots of paint, as galloping horses, gold dust, feathers, particles of light, warm red bricks in sunshine.

Words can show us what we haven't seen and what we may never see; they tickle all the senses, stir up feeling and thought. They are emissaries from our imagination.

They can be profound as old parchment, or playful as children hopscotching on a spring day. Words are draped over naked abstractions. They give voice to emotions that churn in our bellies and hearts. They support and structure our thinking.

Sometimes words are not enough. We know this, when we have crossed into the territory that words rarely reach - when we are doubled over laughing, or clenched up in grief, or just struck dumb with how much love and wonder we feel for the world.

I love that about words - their human limitations. We strive as best we can to be clear, precise, to construct word pictures and little worlds that the reader or listener can step inside and explore. But it's a struggle to find the right words; a lot of times they fall short. We keep pushing though, seeking the words that resonate best - the ones that are closest to whatever is beautiful and true.

I think of words as pieces of coral, musical notes, nuts and seeds and priceless gems, mortar and mushrooms, yarn and twine, drops of iridescent water.

We bubble over with all this wonderful beautiful imprecise language... the danger is being too careless with words. A mastery of words also means choosing them carefully for the sake of other people.

Words have the power to damage people, to undermine joy, love and truth. "Sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me" just isn't true - words can burrow in deep and fester. Along with deliberate malice there's the day-to-day carelessness with words - thoughtless comments, bits of gossip we spread, half-truths and ungenerous assumptions we don't bother to reconsider and correct. Words can be like teeth and spearheads, rocks that tear the flesh off to the bone.

If you take away anything from this post, let it be this - a commitment to be more careful with the words you use day-to-day, and the increased and sustained desire to give people sincere compliments, kind words, whenever possible; speak genuinely of your love and appreciation for who they are and for anything they do that you find lovely and good.

Your words will glow like small gold lamps.

One of the most miraculous moments is when a child first uses words. I love observing how children make use of language and map it out for themselves - its delights and absurdities, its music and power. Children can say the same word over and over to themselves, they just love it - they can name something (how profoundly wonderful is that), they revel in sing-song rhythms, they have command of their own voice, they can share themselves with other people. They have entered the human conversation.

People have many ways to communicate, and that's yet another aspect of language I love: the wordless words. The faces, sighs, and gestures - all that human eloquence in our muscles and bones.

With words we ought to be wise and careful, but also use them with the joy and delight of young children. I have a passion for the possibility of words, the gifts they convey, and the way they invite us into the landscape of another person's mind. They have such capacity to render beauty, connection, resonance and joy, to help us make something of our sadness and shame (a poem, a plea). They cement the deepest commitments, or wink at us like fireflies.

A Passion for Macro Photography

2011-04-27T08:00:00.006-05:00

I am so excited to have my friend Jamie as a guest poster again this year. Jamie is a woman of passion and creativity. She is a photographer, a musician, and a wordsmith. She has a tender, loving heart and it shows in her photographs and her blog.

It was really hard to come up with just one passion. So much of what my eyes take in as I go about my days stirs some form of passion or emotion in me. But, it is when I look closer, that I really feel the goosebumps on my heart. All I need is my camera and my macro lens. Maybe I am trying to explore the way I experienced the world as a child. Maybe I am wishing to recapture that sense of newness and awe. When you are young, every single thing is new. My two year old niece just discovered worms the other day and thought they needed kisses. Can you imagine back to a time when a slimy earthcrawler was something special and so deserving of love and affection?

On the days that seem mundane and commonplace, sometimes I need to stretch a little to find the extraordinary. And macro photography does it for me every time. When I spend an hour in a field or up against a tree or in a beloved garden and I really look up close, it feels like a meditation on the perfection of nature and all of her intricacies. Everything looks so unique and almost abstract when it is viewed for a magnifying lens... what I thought was just he ground could quite possibly be the sights of a different planet all together. A flower petal becomes a landing pad for bees, the bark of a tree becomes a giant maze for ants, and dandelions gone to seed become old growth forests for aphids and nymphs.

And it is ever changing. Nothing ever looks the same... even if I tilt my lens just a little, the landscape withing that rectangle lens changes completely. And if I try and compose the same hot again, I can never find the exact same perspective.

Taking pictures keeps me in the moment. It helps me slow down. And makes me so aware and full of gratitude for all that surrounds me. I wish to keep my eyesight young for as long as I live, hopefully always catching sights of something new that makes me gasp out loud as I look through my magic lens.

A Passion for Music

2011-04-26T12:18:00.008-05:00

I'm excited to introduce you to a southern girl with an artist's eye and a music-lover's heart. Char, from Ramblins blog, has made me laugh and cry at her words; gasp at her images; and grin at her playlists. She writes today about a passion we share, a passion for music.

i love music. i do. i have since i was a small child and some of my earliest memories are associated with music. from the sad and tragic hymns at my great grandmothers grave, the happy-go-lucky music of my childhood (i had burl ives children's folk album and the chipmunks), to the bubble-gum pop of my teens, and the wide gamut of musical loves that i have today. i swear my brain is comprised of 60% music lyrics. you have a problem...i usually have a song to match - one to lift you up, one to make you smile one to cry with.

i love talking music and for a short while i worked as a fans relation person for an artist friend of mine. i still love going to a live show and supporting those artists still trying to make it....living their passion. and i am grateful to them because i'm not able to make anything but what the lord will call a joyful noise. because my friends call it....well, you can imagine it's not good.

i hope you have the music in your life too. i wish you the joy and happiness that music can bring to you.

A Passion for Simple Things

2011-04-25T06:34:00.014-05:00

Today's special guest is one of my dearest friends. Ragamuffin Gal and I met over ten years ago at our district's teacher orientation. Her first impulse was to take my hand and pull me over to meet some people she'd met already; to take me to make new friends. That really sums up her character. Anytime you see Katie she will be smiling, ready to take your hand, and not only make a friend of you, but introduce you to other people who will be just as ready to become your friend. She's an artist, a teacher, an encourager, and a gift. Oh, you are going to love her.

My passion is finding joy and beauty in the simple things of life! As I pen these words I am reminded of the first set of curtains I made for our first tiny, one bedroom apartment. In the kitchen we had open shelves (before open shelves were fashionable) and our meager kitchen ware was by non means something we wanted to show off. So, off I went to buy $1 a yard calico material to fashion curtains for our shelves.

After a day of stitching and gathering, Mark arrived home, saw them, and said, "You have made something beautiful out of those scraps!" And that seems to fit what I've been doing all my life.

I think I have always had a passion to create something just a little better that what it was when I first found it. Growing up on a Midwestern farm provided lots of opportunity for this sort of practice. Whether it was coloring the pecked wings of young chicks with white shoe polish (so that they could go back into the pen with their assaulters), stirring flour and milk into thick chicken gravy, or growing and picking greens from Mom's simple garden patch, all were done with joy and made into something beautiful.

I spent a lot of weeks each summer in my grandmother's care. She was a seamstress who had sewn her was through the Great Depression. By then, she owned apartments and designed and created clothes for her daughters and granddaughters. How blessed I was to grow up in a place where I could wear whatever I imagined because my grandmother was so creative that she could make anything!

I sat by her and together we dreamed and sewed. The hum of the sewing machines was the background music of my early life. How I loved sitting at her feet, sewing with scraps. Or, painting the walls of her apartment to brighten them up. Making cakes and picking flowers from her garden were all a part of beautiful daily life with her.

From decorating my home, to cooking my family famous chicken enchiladas, writing for my blog, creating for others, learning a new way to use an art medium, or serving others in joy, I have carried with me a passion for seeing joy and beauty in simple things.

A favorite author of mine, Fredrick Buehner said, "The place God calls you to is where you deep gladness meets the world's deep hunger."

I believe that where we are this very moment is the place where we are called to bestow a touch of beauty and joy! The world is hungering for a touch that only you can fulfill.

Life, to me, has always been about what you choose to make with it! I will choose beauty, and I choose joy always! May you be blessed this week to bless others!

"Listen to your life. See it for the fathomless mystery it is. In the boredom and pain of it no less than in the excitement and gladness: touch, taste, smell your way to the holy and hidden heart of it because in the last analysis all moments are key moments, and life itself is grace." ~ Buehner

A Passion for Faces

2011-04-22T08:02:00.006-05:00

Yesterday was an anniversary of sorts for me. On April 21, 2010 my whole family came with me to our local photography store where I bought my now-constant companion, JD. Since then I've added Little Bit (my 50mm), Hubble (a great zoom), and Big Butt (a wide angle lens) to the family. I've used Christmas money to buy the best camera bag ever. I've taken and/or posted photos nearly every day since then.

Best of all, I've finally found that thing. You know, that thing I've been searching for for years and years. That way of making the deep places of my heart visible. I've wished to paint, but I don't have the skills. I've longed to sew, but I don't have the patience. I've longed to create, but my fingers don't work. I've wished for years to find some way of pointing out all the beauty I see. Some way of showing others all the joy I feel flooded with. Some art form that is my own.

And, I found it. Thank God, I finally found it. As I've journeyed this year with JD at my side, I've taken pictures of so many things. I've captured some of the beauty I've seen. I've learned a lot. I've had so much fun. But, most of all... Most of all, I've fallen in love with faces. I love people. And I love their expressive, wonderful, lived-in faces.

What I love most is taking pictures of people. Their faces specifically. I love finding just the right question to ask, just the right angle to shoot from to create the magic; the image that is a perfect reflection of who someone is. Of course I want people to look good and feel great about how they look, but I don't take glamor shots - go to the mall if you want that. The kind of pictures I want to take are the ones that make people get this tiny smile of recognition. It's in that moment that I know the old tribal beliefs had some tiny bit of truth in them. A camera can steal a part of your soul. Or, at least, reflect it back to you.

A Passion for Joy

2011-04-20T05:14:00.003-05:00

My friend Jeanie has a gift for really savoring life. She loves books, movies, music, public radio, crafting, creating, family... so many things. In fact, she has so many passions, one blog just won't contain them. When you find that today's introduction just wasn't enough, you'll want to visit her at The Marmalade Gypsy and Chopsticks and String.

When Relyn asked me to contribute to her month of passions, I was tremendously honored and excited. My head was filled with ideas. I'm wildly passionate about my photography... and art... and reading... and travel... and family... and the cat... all things French and British... You get the idea.

So I did what I often do when I'm trying to clear my head -- take a walk to someplace beautiful. I chose to go to what we call "The Ditch."

The Ditch is a not-quite-natural area at the far end of my neighborhood, about an eight-block walk away. It was built as a result of a sewer separation project, and no -- it's not filled with sewer water, but I'm not sure I'd jump in the several ponds. But it does allow for a variety of birds, ducks, water creatures and, I'm told, deer.

My favorite is Harry the Heron. I've been waiting for his return during the long, seemingly endless winter. While the skies are still gloomy and April's showers about, I know spring must be here, not only because the calendar tells me so, but Harry has returned.

The Ditch is not everyone's favorite spot, although on any given day or evening, you'll find families, walkers, dogs of every size, shape and color walking or jogging around what is about a half-mile paved circle that goes by the water and through woods. But it came at a great cost to some of the taxpayers in the region, while others, like me, were either assessed before I bought my house or not assessed at all. Some will seldom go to the Ditch -- it reminds them of this fact and it's not pleasant. They miss so much.

I spent a good deal of time watching Harry preen himself, poking into his feathers with his sharp beak and then looking up quickly, as though he heard something of great importance. He would pause now and then and survey the pond, seemingly oblivious of the duckrobatics going on not far from him, or the muskrat (or maybe it was a beaver) moving sticks across the water.

During the course of my walk and Harry-viewing, it became clear to me that perhaps I am most passionate is optimism, hope and joy. I'm a very "cup half-full" sort of person, and even when trying things happen, I do my best to find something out of the problem that can be somewhat positive.

Whenever I am doing art and I make a mistake -- spill something or glue something upside down, for example -- I have a choice. I can get angry for the time and supplies wasted and throw it away. Or, I can do my best to turn the mistake into an opportunity to something better, something more creative.

When the timetable gets off kilter something happens quite outside of my control, I can get frustrated or I can do my best to find something about it that isn't so bad. I can't control the outcome, but I can control how I react to it -- not always easily, I might add!

I try to do that with people, too. Heaven knows we don't always work with a batch of people we want to embrace into our daily lives -- and yet, there they are and there is little we can do about it. But stop and think. What is there world like away from the office? Are they happy? Are they well? Are they challenged by family issues of which I know nothing? I can manage my work life around those folks far better if I try to give them a break -- a break they never asked for, perhaps don't even deserve or know they're getting. And it doesn't matter, because it makes me feel better.

To me, joy and optimism are intricately associated with gratitude. When push comes to shove, I can have the worst day in the world, but I know that I have a job I love, my needs are met, my family is dear to my heart and my sweet Gypsy-cat will snug in and purr and let me know I am needed. Believe me, I am not a saint! Don't think I never get mad, or grumpy. We all do, and we deserve that choice. But more often than not, it is a choice.

I have to say this half-full thing really can tick people off! In my personal and professional life we all associate with people who get agitated -- often with good reason. But like an angry terrier that has caught its prey, they don't let go -- they shake it furiously and long after the event has passed, they still hold on in their heads and hearts.

I have to respect that. Some people don't want to be joyful or don't know how. They are righteous in their anger or frustration. They would deny that they lack joy. But I think it's true -- because it is quite easy to build joy into one's life. It takes letting go of what is not joyful and being grateful for what wonderful things surround you. (Sometimes you have to look under a leaf, but it's there.)

About fifteen years ago I was in a car accident. It was my fault, and my car was totaled. But the other vehicle was barely nicked.

That guy was furious. And I just looked at him and said, "Look, are you or anyone in your car hurt?" "No." "No one's hurt. And it's a gorgeous day -- yesterday it was pouring, but today it's sunny, warm. You can still drive your car (which I couldn't). My insurance will cover that little nick. So tonight you go home, you have dinner, you have a story to tell and life goes on."

I thought he was going to hit me, so I told him I was just going to wait in my car and read my book till the police got there, and I hoped he the rest of the day was better for him.

(And you know what? By totaling out my car, I got the money to pay for repairs on the house I just bought. And with a few repairs -- a battery and a tune up -- my dad's car, which had been sitting for two years after his death, and I drove that for years. But that was just serendipity.)

I'm definitely not Pollyanna. I can't play the "glad game" when there is a natural disaster. Or when someone is seriously ill, loses their job or loses on their home. But I can say that those I know who have lost their job often say it was the best thing that happened to them because it allowed them to find their proper path. It's making the choice to move forward rather than staying stuck in anger or sorrow. Doesn't happen overnight; it can take time (maybe years). Some wounds will never heal. But they can heal enough.

Seeing joy and optimism doesn't happen overnight. Sometimes there are long stretches in-between, where things seem dark and impossible. It's like a long, white winter when you believe you'll never see the spring.

But it does come. Flowers begin to pop up in gardens, songbirds sport their brilliant yellow and red feathers.

And Harry the Heron comes home.

And I smile.

A Passion for the Next Big Thing

2011-04-18T00:26:00.002-05:00

Today's guest inspires me with her steady pursuit of all things creative. Arlene, of Geek Inc., is a poet, a photographer, a mondo beyondo list maker, a mother, and a passionate pursuer of creative endeavors. If you don't know her already, you are really going to enjoy today.

i seem to struggle

with the word
passion.
i don't know why.
it just doesn't resonate with me.
the idea of it does, but it's like the word itself is a road block for me.

so i googled the meaning and one of the meanings i got spoke to me...
compelled or ruled by intense emotion or strong feeling.
compelled.
compelled.
immediately that word grabbed me and hooked me and reeled me in...
i recognized myself in that one word.

and then
i searched the thesaurus for similar words...
animation, eagerness, excitement, fire, frenzy, intensity, transport.

again-
flashes of recognition, flashes of myself.

and now that i have established some acceptable terminology for myself...what is mine?
what is my fire, my frenzy, what inspires this in me...the truth is, if you read my blog at all,
you make think me flighty when it comes to what lights my fire...
i have skipped all over the map
but i think that is part of my passion, that is what drives me...
ideas and trying something different,
mastering a new skill, a feeling of accomplishment but also that
double edged excitement of wondering what will come next?

i'm always thinking of the next big thing...
what is required, making lists, gathering supplies, doing research.
some things {photography} i stick with...
others i may try fanatically and then totally drop them for now {knitting}...

at the moment, a quick list reveals::
an upcoming writing class {which scares me out of my ever loving mind},
photography {& daring to shoot in RAW}
paper-cutting, painting, race car driving, yoga, wooden window boxes,
trying to make pizza dough and tomato soup
from scratch, crossing things off my mondo beyondo list {while adding more},
building a robot of grand proportions out of recycled materials,
daring to be me more often....

A Passion for the Cross

2011-04-17T12:27:00.004-05:00

Sunday Morning Poetry

When I Survey the Wondrous Cross

When I survey the wondrous cross 
on which the Prince of Glory died; 
my richest gain I count but loss, 
and pour contempt on all my pride.  

Forbid it, Lord, that I should boast, 
save in the death of Christ, my God; 
all the vain things that charm me most, 
I sacrifice them to his blood.  

See, from his head, his hands, his feet, 
sorrow and love flow mingled down. 
Did e'er such love and sorrow meet, 
or thorns compose so rich a crown.  

Were the whole realm of nature mine, 
that were an offering far too small; 
love so amazing, so divine, 
demands my soul, my life, my all.

~ Isaac Watts

A Passion for the Human Heart

2011-04-16T10:11:00.001-05:00

Today's guest, Chenoa of Meandering Pearl, is one of my favorite photographers. She is dreamy and romantic and entirely self-taught, which gives me hope. Once she told me, "I never know if people will like my photos. I think the beauty of photography, though, is that at the moment someone takes a photo, no one else in the world could have taken that exact photo. That makes it special and connects us somehow; makes our photos a great part of our human history & family." Yes. Exactly.

I have been pondering most profusely what I could share that could be of worth, while wondering if i have the photos that would compliment the decor of this wondrous blog.

Several things I am passionate about crossed my mind.

craft ~ a desire to create beautiful objects/journals/artwork to warm others' hearts

writing ~ penning words that glitter & sparkle under the telescope of the heart & shine in the atmosphere of the soul

taking photos ~ freezing a moment of this fluid reality, & allowing it to be a droplet in the pool of human history. I especially love taking portraits as everyone is a part of this important human tale we are writing together.

Upon trying to illuminate one of these to expand upon, I realized that they are all a part of the same thing. It is something I know Relyn is as passionate as me about; the state of the human heart. How to care for it. How to help others grow. How to help their journey be a beautiful one.

I think this is one reason why we blog. I think we blog to share with others something of the special! We blog to be little light flickering on a dark day; to communicate a compliment via comments that we leave. We blog to share the things we are passionate about with others who are searching and with others who feel the same.

It has been a privilege and a joy! Sending loveliest thoughts ~ Chenoa

A Passion for Ordinary Miracles

2011-04-14T09:05:00.006-05:00

I believe in miracles. Absolutely.
I do not believe that they only occurred in Biblical times.
I believe they occur now, today, every day.

I believe in big miracles.
As in, God spoke and the world was created.
As in, the God of heaven knows me by name.
And loves me.

I believe in smaller miracles, too.
I call them ordinary miracles.
You know the ones I mean:
the evidences of God that are so common
many people fail to notice them any more.

Miracles like the morning mist
that rises up from the creek and gets caught in the trees.
Miracles like the way dew and sunrise combine just so and
turn unmown, dandelion-covered grass into a field of diamonds.
Ordinary miracles like the laughter of children, the forgiveness of someone
you've hurt, the ticket turned into a warning, clean running water, the very air we breathe...

Precious, ordinary miracles.

What could be more ordinary than a thistle? Or more miraculous?

A Passion for Ripples

2011-04-13T08:24:00.008-05:00

My friend Jennifer, of Ripplespeak, has so many gifts that I hardly know what to say here. Her words always touch the heart and they are nothing short of poetry. She is a gardener, a poet, and an artist. I just know that you are going to love her as much as I do.

When Relyn asked me if I’d like to write a bit about my passions,
I couldn’t stop grinning over the idea of plucking a bouquet from my heart’s garden
to lovingly hand this beautiful woman whose own heart blooms so profusely!

Altogether lovely, hers inspires and delights me.

Within minutes my giddy little fist clutched
an already overflowing bouquet of wildly delicious diversity

and I hadn’t even scratched the surface of blossoms I hoped to include.
Oh, this wouldn’t do.

And so I set the happy hodgepodge in a mason jar
and let the garden wander through me for a while.
Stirring. Nudging. Sorting through clutter and removing debris.
I was feeling this deeply and leaned into the process.

There were unexpected tears as my soil was raked and turned.

I'm a gardener, it's how I see the world.
I love the beauty of living, growing things.
My tree-hugging heart nearly bursts with joy when a seed gets to live out its muchness!
I earn my living coaxing the fullness out of seeds and spaces.
The time on my knees and in trees seems to stir a deep hunger

for the creative Love that designed it all….cherishes it all.
And I've fallen in love with this Love.

My dearest passion is to nourish, tend and encourage
what we humans seem often to value the least
……..the tender hearts formed to hold and express the very breath of Love,
~to coax the broken, shredded, silenced places into healing light,
finding the beauty and singing it strong.
~to see heavy hearts come untangled, unfettered and wide open
to receive the fierce tenderness that is unabashedly FOR them.

Sometimes when I hear the wind whisper "don't lose heart"
I remember when I lost mine.
Swallowed by despair, my heart shut down and hid,
my true voice buried under tons of shame.
My need was simply this: to feel the presence
of the accepting, affirming, approving, encouraging Love of One
who knew me in all my parts and cherished me dearly.
As the song goes, I needed a fearless love.
Waking up to it, my sleepy spirit is beginning to absorb it and thrive.

And so I give myself to words and images,
pens and paints
my hands playful translating the messages I sense tucked into every nook and cranny
of this gorgeous planet,
as if the universe is passing me a note in class.
I reach for it, treasuring it like a message tugged from a bottle at sea,
beaming over the beauty that spills from such a beautiful heart as this.
Passing the note is what lights me up.
My passion is for the wonder and mystery of the ripples as they speak.

A Passion for Simplicity

2011-04-12T00:02:00.003-05:00

Today's guest blogger continually stuns me with her eye for beauty. She loves simple lines, simple subjects, simple views. But, when you combine her love of simplicity and her skill with a camera, you get nothing short of magic. I'm so pleased to introduce you to my friend, ELK, and her magic way with words and images.

simplicity is my passion
a basic kitchen window sill
the shadow and sun of everyday life
images from over the years are shared here today

a moment to ripen and bloom

to embrace each sight from the window

there is a bright comfort created there each day . a following of light

a soft place to gather strength to be a difference in the world

then a coming home spot . even for tears in the missing times

a simple life . reflected each time I pause & stand
to dream at the kitchen window