I saw the sky in the street yesterday.
Clouds with tiny wet wrinkles
lay on the asphalt looking up at me.
I felt a surge of happiness
in spite of the freezing wind on my face.
Our distant, cocooned winter sun
has begun that slow, beautiful metamorphosis
into the warm, open-hearted sun of spring.

Look into the mirror again.
Behind the rippled clouds
there are tulips waking up.

Hallelujah!

I’ll probably delete this in the morning (or at the very least, tweak it a little bit.)

I’m not much of a jewelry person. For years and years (and years), the only necklace I wore was a watch on a chain. The only rings I wear are my engagement and wedding rings. Bracelets tend to make me fuss with them subconsciously when I wear them. But over time, a few necklaces have taken up permanent residence in my jewelry box and they each have special meaning to me. When I wear them, I remember the giver. Isn’t that partially why we give gifts – to be remembered with the gift?

In fact, most of the things that have been given to me as gifts, bear an unbreakable connection with the ones who gave them. I’ll be puttering around and suddenly realize that I’ve been thinking about a particular person. “Now what brought that person to mind?” I’ll ask myself. Inevitably, I had picked up or looked at or used something that was given to me by that person. It is always a sweet remembrance, even if it’s fleeting.

That connection between gift and giver is one of the reasons I am reluctant to fall back on cash gifts for special events. As much as a cash gift can be appreciated, it will usually not be associated with anything that brings a face and a memory to mind.

If you’ve ever given me anything, rest assured, I remember you when I use it, see it or (in the case of a book) read it. And rest assured, it is a sweet memory.

I’ll probably delete this in the morning.

I painted this in high school, which should tell you (if you didn’t know it already) that I’ve always been rather odd. In fact, “odd” was my stock in trade. I took a painting class and wanted to do something different! Well, this certainly was different. The only problem is that I never knew what story I was telling with this little tableau. Is it a tragedy? A comedy? Do these creatures know one another? If there was a musical track accompanying this scene, would I feel sad, frightened, moved, angry, amused, or just plain curious? It’s time to correct this appalling lack of context with the telling of two stories. Gather ’round the campfire, friends, and perk up your ears.

The Blue Bleenies
The Blue Bleenies were just settling in for the evening, when they were stunned to see an unfamiliar beast come into their midst. It had strange appendages on its body, quite unlike themselves. The Blue Bleenies were simple creatures. Not having ears or mouths, they communicated primarily by eye movements and foot flappings. They weren’t very intelligent, either. They ate food through their feet, and dug holes every night in which to sleep. Other than that, they just watched each other and waddled around flapping their feet very expressively. To see this unusual creature among them caused curiosity that quickly became consternation, for it began swaying in strange, fluid movements and moved threateningly toward one of their own. It lifted up one of its feet and held it over the Bleenie’s head. Gasp! It had clearly come among them to eat them! They watched in horror; one of the Bleenies began to weep.

The Dancing Domatilla
The Dancing Domatilla was far from home. She had quite lost her way and was beginning to wonder where her wandering feet had brought her. She saw a bridge-like structure ahead – it appeared to have little blue blobs on it. Curious, she went nearer. The blobs turned out to be adorable little bottle-shaped creatures. Entranced, she came into their midst. She spoke gentle words of greeting, but they just stared at her. Their feet flapped around in the most delightfully amusing ways. She longed to communicate with them, but it appeared that her words meant nothing to them. A moment of inspiration struck – she would dance for them! Everyone understands the language of dance, she thought. She began humming one of her people’s beautiful songs and with it, moved her limbs expressively and fluidly. In one of the most difficult but meaningful moves, she lifted her hand-like foot and lowered it over one of the creature’s heads, symbolizing the act of blessing it. She smiled to herself at the pleasure she must be giving these simple beasts. She peeked at their reaction. Gasp! They all looked terrified; one of the little things was weeping! What could possibly have gone wrong?

**********************************************************************

And there you have it. Still odd, but now at least it has an odd story to go with it.

I’ll probably delete this in the morning.

This sweet little lady just changed my life: she made me a grandma! A long-distance grandma, to be specific. It has gotten me thinking about how best to be a part of her life from halfway across the country. I’ve known other grandparents in the same position – it’s a lot easier now than it was even fifty years ago, what with FaceTime and Skype. I hope to find other creative ways to get to know her as she grows. So many possibilities! If you’ve been in this situation and have some ideas, do let me know. I think one of the most important things I can do, however, is to be praying for her. It doesn’t matter how far away we live – God always has His eye on her and inclines His ear to me. That’s a connection that cannot be broken.

I probably won’t delete this in the morning.

Leaf Span: Meditations from a Leaf

Back in my glory days
I was named “Miss Chlorophyll”
by the esteemed panel of judges,
and I’m afraid it went right to my stem.
I thought I’d be green and soft and shiny forever.

But one day a cold wind blew,
which shook my branch and hardened my veins
and took the green right out of my soul.
The whole tree moaned, and my brethren cried out,
“Oh, how the mighty have fallen!” as they fell.

I petitioned the Lord right then and there,
“Let me stay. Please don’t shake me loose.”
He strengthened my stem and said, “Watch.”
I saw the green, golden world dry up,
And my own skin with it.

And I knew that this, too, was a glory.

I’ll probably delete this in the morning.

The Artic Tern and the Penguin

The tern regarded the penguin
Admiring his handsome suit,
But when it came to walking,
He seemed a clumsy brute.

“In these brutally cold climes,
He has the right amount of blubber,
But those dangling things at his side,
Appear to be made of rubber!

“What a shame that bird can’t fly,”
Said the tern with a superior air,
And his white wings lifted him up
With ease and graceful flair.

The penguin regarded the tern,
And thought he’d never seen,
Such strange and useless feathers,
And legs so awfully lean.

“How does the tern stay warm?
How does he stand upright?
His wings are sort of scrappy,
And never meant for flight.

“What a shame that bird can’t fly,”
Said the penguin to his daughters,
As he jumped into the sea
And flew through the ice cold waters.

My penguin post got me thinking about a poem involving penguins flying, and after some cogitation, this is what I came up with. The photos are lovely and I wish I could give credit where credit is due, but all I can tell you is that I found them on the internet.

I’ll probably delete this in the morning. Have a great weekend!

Have you ever wondered whether or not a constellation could be discovered in a place where there were no stars? Like, say, on an article of clothing? As absurd as that question is, the real wonderment is that it turns out to be a valid question.

When my husband and I were investigating apps to follow the phases of the moon, we also happened upon an app called “SkyView Lite.” Write that down – you’re going to want it. The app is designed to use the camera function of your phone. You point it at the sky, and voila! It figures out what constellations of stars are in your sky. Astronomy for dummies. What a marvelous piece of technology!

Hubby opened the app while sitting in the living room and the machine began looking to and fro for possible constellations, just as it was designed to do. To our delight, it found one on my husband’s pants.

And there you have it: Virgo, looking very fetching, I must say. The app even thoughtfully inserted a little moon above her head. All in all, it was very educational and enlightening. And you don’t even have to go outside on a brittle cold night. And the app is FREE. Need I say more?

I’ll probably delete this in the morning.

Update: Since publishing this blog post, my fanciful interpretation of the machinations of the app have been discredited. The app is way smarter than I thought. It was using all of its powers to determine what constellation was at that angle below the earth from where my husband was sitting. I tip my hat. Well played, SkyView Lite. Well played.

Please forgive this interruption to my regular blog. I’ve been doing some research on how to use these newfangled Gutenberg Blocks and am trying to decide whether or not to stay with Word Press or find another free blog host. Either option will require some amount of learning. None of the tutorials for GBs address how to use them on the app – they’re all web-based – so I’m on my own. What you see below constitutes the class “Gutenberg Blocks 101” as I navigate through all the block possibilities.

(Heading block) Gutenberg is not pleased.

“Many people dislike Gutenberg blocks!”

This is a quote block. This spot is supposed to be for the citation. I made this quote up, but I’ll be surprised if it’s not on the internet somewhere.

• 

• 

• 

• 

• The list block
• I like lists.
• I like bullet points, but you can also get the list numbered.
• Isn’t this boring?
• Remember, this is important classroom experience.
• End of list.

I guess I could probably make this work, but I might start looking around for other options. Got any suggestions? The best way to use these blocks is probably by creating blog posts on the website versus the app, so I might have to try that next. I’ll return to my previously scheduled blog writing tomorrow!

I’ll probably delete this in the morning.  (This is called a “pre-formatted block.”  Hmmmm.....)

This was my mental landscape this morning:

I have days like this sometimes, when things seem unclear, and the future looks murky and dark. I struggle at those times with a loss of confidence and a sense of dread. Aging has a lot to do with it, I think. It’s all well and good to say “Getting old isn’t for sissies,” until you realize that you are, in fact, a sissy. But these are the very moments that call out most strongly for walking by faith and not by sight. I grab for the comfort of old friends like Hebrews 11:1, which says “Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen.” The very point of faith is that we can be sure of what we hope for in Christ. The things that I only see dimly now will one day be made clear. Until then, I will say with the psalmist: “I have set the Lord continually before me. Because He is at my right hand, I will not be shaken.” Yes, and amen.

I’ll probably delete this in the morning.

Disaster! WordPress changed their entire formatting system to something called “Gutenberg Blocks,” which is supposed to be far superior to the old Classic Editor. I did some research and found out that I could just install the old Classic Editor if I wanted to. False. Fake news. You have to be a PAID subscriber in order to get the old formatting back. Sigh… I guess it’s not a complete disaster, but it’s going to take me some time to get used to the new features. (Update: it turns out it wasn’t fake news, but I didn’t figure that out until later.)

I’ve been reading a book called Out of the Ashes – Rebuilding American Culture by Anthony Esolen. One of the things that he bemoans that we’ve largely lost as a culture is the ability to play. “Americans have a strange relationship with sport. It is a new thing in the world. It is sport that is governed not by the spirit of play, which is also the spirit of mirth and celebration, but by the spirit of work.” He goes on to say that most neighborhoods, except possibly the poorest ones, do not have children playing outside in spontaneous fun pick-up games or other types of play. Children are either inside with their devices, or they are involved in organized sports that leave little room for spontaneity and the type of special “rule-making” that goes on when kids just get together to have fun.

I thought of that the other day when I was exploring the empty lot again across the street. The city has been using it to dump excess snow and this has created wonderfully huge snow mountains. When our kids were young, this would have become a favorite haunt of theirs – up and down the mountains, digging tunnels, building forts, having snowball fights, creating interesting edifices out of all that snow. I’ve never seen anyone else there and it seems a shame. It’s always been just me and the cardinals…and of course the deer which stay hidden. Well, I’m not too old to play, so I made a snowman. It’s a start.

When was the last time you played in the snow?

I’ll probably delete this in the morning. But first, I guess I’d better bone up on the new rules in town for this blog. It definitely won’t be a time filled with the spirit of play!

So, since it’s Valentine’s Day, I’ll tell you a love story. When I started swimming laps nearly 20 years ago, I almost always swam in the lane next to an older woman, whom I secretly referred to as “The Queen of the Pool.” She swam with beautiful, graceful strokes and although she appeared to be swimming slowly, I found out that it was only an appearance; it was a long time before I was able to keep up with her. She inspired me to improve my swimming technique. I watched her covertly to see how she swam and then tried to do likewise. Her husband swam laps at the same time, but over in the deep end of the pool. He always waited for her afterward by the front door; he held the door open for her and they would go out to the parking lot side by side.

One day, the Queen stopped coming. Her husband also stopped for a time, but then he returned without her. I feared the worst, but didn’t know him and didn’t want to ask. After a few months, she returned, and it was immediately clear that she’d suffered some sort of accident. She was weak and unsteady on her feet. Her husband not only walked in beside her, helping her stay upright, he also got into the pool and swam right next to her, always ready to come to her aid if she should need it. As long as she needed him there, he was there. She gradually recovered her former strength and grace and he went back to his side of the pool. When they were done, he always held the door for her, and they walked together to their car. It was so sweet to see his loving care and protection of his wife, and the beauty and strength that it gave her. She truly was his Queen.

The best part was that I knew I was married to the same kind of man – the kind who would go the extra mile and demonstrate sacrificial love, even when that meant changing my bedpans when I was in the hospital. He has consistently loved me and prayed for me, even when I am cranky, overemotional and unlovable. How thankful I am that the Lord loves me and gave me a husband who knows how to transmit the steadfast love of Christ to me when I am at my worst, and who encourages me and takes care of me when I am weak and in need. And you know what? He always holds the door open for me. Bless the man! Happy Valentine’s Day, my darling! Thank you for making me feel like your Queen.

I’ll probably delete this in the morning…or not.