I’m still plugging away at sorting through old family photos, documents, letters, etc. and today came across a prayer that my grandma copied when she was 89 years old, entitled “A Prayer for Those Growing Old.” Author unknown.

Lord, Thou knowest that I am growing older.

Keep me from becoming talkative and possessed with the idea that I must express myself on every subject.

Release me from the craving to straighten out everyone’s affairs.

Keep me from the recital of endless detail. Give me wings to get to the point.

Seal my lips when I am inclined to tell of my aches and pains. They are increasing with the years and my love to speak of them grows sweeter as time goes by.

Teach me the glorious lesson that occasionally I may be wrong.

Make me thoughtful, but not nosy; helpful, but not bossy.

With my vast store of wisdom and experience it does seem a pity not to use it all, but Thou knowest, Lord, I want a few friends at the end.

All I can add is, “Amen to that!”

Give me wings to delete this post.

Maybe the title says it all – a poem of four words.

Coral, floral
Bingo, flamingo.

I kind of like it. But at the same time it feels like cheating, like I ought to put a little more effort into the thing. Here’s another one:

Continue reading “Thursday, September 5, 2024 Coral Floral Bingo Flamingo” →

“…there is nothing more astonishing than a human face. …it has something to do with incarnation. …Any human face is a claim on you, because you can’t help but understand the singularity of it, the courage and loneliness of it. But this is truest of the face of an infant.” from the book Gilead by Marilynne Robinson

I’ve been thinking about the human face – in particular how hard it is to draw one. I’ve drawn and painted birds and animals and have not found it too hard to get the idea across there. One robin looks pretty much like another. Animals have faces, and sometimes even unique ones, but nothing like the ensouled human face. I’m not just drawing a type of a creature, I’m trying to get across the individuality of a person. No one human looks just like another. Even identical twins develop slight differences that distinguish them from each other to those who know them well. The difficulty of communicating what makes a person look like who they really are, capturing the essence of them, makes you appreciate those who do portraits well. Much of it is in the eyes, I think.

Continue reading “Wednesday, September 4, 2024 The Human Face” →

We purchased a travel trailer recently and the first order of business was to take it out on a short “shakedown cruise” to a campground at a state park not too far from us. And since we were out and about, we decided to visit the National Eagle Center in Wabasha for our Minnesota Meanderings in August. For previous meanderings, see these posts: Spam Museum, Bell Museum of Natural History, Como Park Zoo and Conservatory, Fort Snelling, and Great Lakes Aquarium.

Back to the breakdown cruise – I mean, shakedown cruise – we chose to revisit one of our favorite state parks from the hiking club years: Whitewater. My husband suggested we call our new camper “Bag End,” which is a nod to Lord of the Rings. Our faithful white Honda Pilot has already been named “Shadowfax,” so it seemed only fitting to continue the theme. Bag End proved to be a wonderfully cozy little home in the forested campground.

Continue reading “Tuesday, September 3, 2024 Minnesota Meanderings August 2024: The National Eagle Center” →

As I write this, I hear the cicadas tuning their instruments. It’s a one-note symphony from their section of the orchestra, the irrefutable signal that summer is coming to an end. It’s sharp, emanating invisibly from the trees, cutting across all the other sounds of the day. People that study these things say that the male cicada is trying to attract females. This may be true, but the we know the real words to their song:

I tell of the air turning cooler at night
I tell of the swans beginning their flight
I tell of the leaves soon changing and falling
I tell of the winter nights soon to come calling…

They cannot help what they sing and we cannot help knowing what is to come when they sing it: the sharp hues of autumn, the beauty of burning gold.

Praise God from whom all blessings flow.

Deleting will come in the morning.

P.S. If the photo(s) on my posts look distorted, it has to do with a setting on your phone. It’s easiest just to view the post on my blog, rather than reading the email that delivered it to you. There is a way for you to navigate to my blog from the email and I’m confident you’ll find it.