I went out on a short walk today, the first one I’ve taken outside since the knee replacement surgery. I’ve been out walking at the grocery store, but that doesn’t count.
I went to visit a neighbor who had her knee replacement surgery a month before mine and has had a very hard time of it in recovery. It was a good reminder for me to be praying for her. We both agreed that we had not yet gotten to the point of being glad we’d had the surgery, but assumed that in one year’s time, we’ll feel that way.
Faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen. Hebrews 11:1
It felt good to get outside on this relatively warm day in March. Can spring be far behind?
Greetings, my good and faithful readers. Sometimes I wonder why you stick with me; I often dole out very meager fare. But here you are, once again, making your way through another of my meandering blog posts. If there was a medal that I could give out to you, I would.
Let’s meander over to the workshop now. I wanted to paint a lake scene with a canoe in it for my husband for his birthday. Secondly (which I can say, even though I neglected to say “firstly”), I wanted to paint from a photo, rather than copying someone else’s watercolor painting. I went to the internet and called for aid, and the internet answered. Thank you, Mr. Internet. And of course, ultimately, thanks be to God for making this beautiful world in which we find lakes, forests, mountains and red canoes.
Meanwhile, I’m still working on the first painting from my Great Idea of last week: Albrecht Durer’s rabbit. The Great Idea
I’ve learned from watching the portrait show how important the first sketch is for settling the outline and getting the right proportions. I still need practice doing that, obviously, but I’m not one to start all over. Press on and all that.
As I said, in progress! Hopefully it will be done by next week.
Forgetting what lies behind and pressing on toward what lies ahead, I will delete this in the morning.
I went out at sunset in search of the blood moon. Alas, I had not done my research. It was actually supposed to be visible this morning. That’s the bad news. The “good” news is that it was too cloudy here to see it this morning anyway.
Here are a few quotes for you to ponder with me.
Sooner or later, everyone sits down to a banquet of consequences. Robert Louis Stevenson
Have you had one of those banquets lately?
Nothing touches our lives but it is God Himself speaking. Do we discern His hand or only mere occurrence? Get into the habit of saying, “Speak, Lord,” and life will become a romance. Every time circumstances press, say “Speak, Lord,” and make time to listen. Oswald Chambers
Speak, Lord, your servant is listening.
Worry often gives a small thing a great shadow. Swedish Proverb
Isn’t it the truth?
Three can keep a secret if two of them are dead. Benjamin Franklin
Ha ha! That’s very droll.
The world is full of poems, but you have to be quiet to hear them. Mary Oliver
I love that so much. Here’s a poem for you, but make sure you’re quiet enough to hear it:
I’ll be deleting this by the light of the Blog Moon in the morning.
The month of March is upon us, which means that I can at last put a halt to my insufficient efforts to keep the poinsettia alive. It’s time to set it free out in the wild.
Our compost heap may not look exactly like “free out in the wild,” but it’s all relative. The plant has been freed from the shackles of the green plastic pot. It has gone from our tame and dull home to a place where birds might alight next to it (or even on it!) or some little critter might scamper around its leaves. Like I said, free and wild.
I look forward to this ritual every year. The poinsettia had company this year: a dozen Valentine roses that had gasped their last breath and diminished into themselves.
And now, a bonus photo for you:
Sunrise through the trees! Looks positively molten, doesn’t it? The photo didn’t turn out the way I expected, but I ended up liking it anyway.
I’ll probably delete this in the morning after it has gasped its last breath.
I’m taking a writing class for the first time since my college days. There are actual writing assignments, which aren’t graded but are peer reviewed. The first assignment was to write a short (600 word) crowd scene in which there is action and dialogue. I spent two days panicking about this assignment, drawing a complete blank and wondering why I ever thought I could write anything at all. Eventually an idea struggled its way through my wall of panic and I was able to submit something. Phew! It’s weird being “in school” again. Anyway, here it is for your perusal.
Martin and Beulah hopped on the crowded shuttle bus at Zion National Park at the last moment, squeezing their way toward the back where there was just enough room for the two of them to stand, holding onto some straps. The bus had barely gotten moving again when they heard a commotion somewhere near the front of the bus.
“I saw him! I saw Bigfoot!” shouted a woman they couldn’t see.
“Yeah, right,” said the man behind Martin. He was wearing a Disney shirt.
“Look! There!” she cried again.
Everyone had their phones out, trying to figure out which way to point them, just in case. A lot of jostling ensued, accompanied by excited voices as people tried to get closer to the windows.
“Did anyone see which way she was pointing?” said a large man not far from Beulah, swiveling his Nikon camera this way and that.
“Get that camera out of my face!” The woman next to him jabbed him in the shoulder with her finger.
“I thought I saw something moving just behind those trees,” offered up a fellow with a man bun, getting caught up in the moment.
“We wanna see Bigfoot!” whined a couple little kids farther up. “Bigfoot! Bigfoot!”
“How stupid can you get,” muttered Disney, “Bigfoot is not real. Everybody with half a brain knows that.”
Martin had decided to stay put, but he could see Beulah trying to edge her way forward, taking photos of the people, rather than looking out the windows.
Meanwhile, Nikon was determined to get his award-winning shot, pushing his way toward where he hoped the action was.
“Ouch, you stepped on my foot, you oaf!” Finger Jabber was really annoyed now.
“BIGFOOT! BIGFOOT!” the kids continued their chanting, while somebody, presumably their mother, was saying, “Let’s use our indoor voices, children. No need to shout.” This had no effect.
Man Bun was saying to anyone who would listen, “I read an interesting article about Sasquatch recently…” perhaps hoping to be established as an expert on the topic.
The bus driver tried to calm the crowd down by speaking into the PA system. “Folks, you’re going to have to stay in your seats or stay standing where you are. We’ll be at the first stop in just a few minutes.” This also had no effect.
Martin caught a glimpse of Beulah looking absolutely delighted with the whole chaotic scene.
Disney kept grumbling, mostly inaudibly, but Martin heard the word “Idiots,” a few times, accompanied by a shaking of his head.
Almost everyone was looking out a window on either side of the bus by now, with much finger pointing and photo taking going on. Half a dozen people could be heard to say that they were sure they’d gotten a photo of something that could have been Bigfoot.
At last the bus driver pulled over to the first stop, calling out “Court of the Patriarchs!” The last time Martin and Beulah had visited Zion, nobody had gotten out at this stop except them, making them feel like chumps. This time, however, almost everybody got off, still excitedly talking about which way they’d need to go to find their quarry. Nikon appeared to be in the lead. As the bus doors closed, Martin and Beulah could still hear “BIGFOOT! BIGFOOT!” To Martin’s surprise, even Disney was out there following the crowd.
Martin and Beulah sat down in the empty bus, Beulah with a happy sigh. “I don’t think our vacation experience can get much better than that,” she said. “Want to see my photos?”
Yes, he did.
Actual Court of the Patriarchs, but no Bigfoot, sadly
I’ll probably be deleting this Blogfoot in the morning.
Ye olde paintbrush has not seen a lot of action since my surgery, but I did dust it off a couple times to work on something for a dear friend of Dutch heritage.
As usual, I went on Pinterest and scrounged around for ideas, building up a little file of possibilities. The main thing for me is that it has be something I might be able to replicate, which eliminates many choices.
I found a simple blue tile with a clog in the middle. How hard can it be?
Sigh. Harder than I thought. Here’s the original if you want to know why I was unhappy with it:
Slighted daunted, I went back to the file and picked out a simple windmill to do instead, to which I added a Bible verse that this friend had sent to me recently.
That’s all that’s been happening in my watercolor workshop of late, although I have another unfinished painting in the works.
A couple days ago I had a Great Idea! My life is littered with the carcasses of Great Ideas, so I’m not sure how far this will go, but here it is: I decided to embark upon a study of imitating paintings of the masters from over the centuries! I don’t expect mine to be any good, but it seemed like it might be good practice for drawing and painting.
Here’s the funny part. No sooner did I have the idea when I dreamed about it that very night. In my dream, I decided to start with a painting of a rabbit by Albrecht Durer.
First of all, kudos to my brain for dredging that up out of my subconscious. Second of all, even in my dream I started wondering if I had bitten off more than I could chew. I made an attempt, but don’t remember much about what it looked like. Somehow (again, kudos to my brain) I remembered that he had a unique way of doing his signature using just his initials, so I spent some time in the dream trying to figure out how I could imitate that with my own initials. Ha ha! Sometimes I crack myself up with the dreams I have.
So stay tuned! Maybe I’ll start with AD’s rabbit since it was foretold in a dream.
I’ll probably dream about deleting this in the morning.
The world is sunny and beautiful outside today, cold weather and bare branches notwithstanding. Isn’t it amazing what a difference the sun makes? Light always trumps the dark.
For you were once darkness, but now you are light in the Lord. Walk as children of light (for the fruit of the Spirit is in all goodness, righteousness and truth), finding out what is acceptable to the Lord. And have no fellowship with the unfruitful works of darkness, but rather expose them. Ephesians 5:8-11
If you’re still in the darkness, turn your gaze to the Light. You know Who I mean.
Modesty is always beautiful. G.K. Chesterton
I agree with G.K. Do you?
“God is too good to be unkind and He is too wise to be mistaken. And when we cannot trace His hand, we must trust His heart. Charles Spurgeon
Such good words to tuck away when we are reeling from some difficulty and “cannot trace His hand.” We can always trust His heart.
You owe it to all of us to get on with what you’re good at. W.H. Auden
This almost felt like a bracing cup of cold water thrown in my sometimes insecure and unconfident face. Get on with it!
Let nothing be said about anyone unless it passes through the three sieves: Is it true? Is it kind? It is necessary? Amy Carmichael
The psalmist said, “Set a guard O Lord, over my mouth; keep watch over the door of my lips.” (Psalm 141:3). And let me always use these three sieves!
I’ll delete this in the morning unless it passes through the three sieves.
Some of you who have been following my blog for many years may recall that I started it as a photo journaling experience. I had gotten a new camera and wanted to write about the photos I took. It sort of evolved over the years and morphed into the rather eclectic set of writings of more recent times.
One of the things I have missed with having a bum knee is that I haven’t really been able to do nearly as much walking and photo taking as I did back in the day. It was a lovely habit. In spite of the fact that I walked nearly the same terrain all the time, there was always something new and interesting to photograph all through the year. This is the Lord’s doing and it is marvelous in our eyes. Psalm 118:23
I still haven’t done much outside photography lately, but I picked up my Nikon camera a few days ago to capture some things from inside the house.
The birds finally forgave us for neglecting the bird feeder for much of the winter.
The theme of neglect also pertains to the poinsettia.
I’m sorry that you won’t be able to see what I saw when I took this photo. There was a glowing pastel sunset happening, the wind was gently blowing our wind chime back and forth and it all looked positively dreamy through our front door. I literally did not see how dirty the door glass was until I saw the photo. More neglect, I’m afraid. This is becoming a distressing theme. Let’s move on.
The same dreamy sunset across the street…
…and in the windows of the apartment building across the street.
Photographs really can’t compare with reality.
I’ll probably neglect to delete this in the morning.
When my mom died a few years ago, we ended up with some of her things, including her old walker and cane. I’m not even sure why we kept them, but I suspect inertia had something to do with it. They got deposited in the garage and very quickly disappeared from mind and sight…until my knee replacement surgery began looming on the horizon.
Mom had both her knees replaced when she was in her 80’s. By that time, my dad was living in a memory care unit in a health care center just a few blocks from home. After the first knee replacement surgery, Mom ended up going to that same place for rehab, but on a different floor. She hated her rehab experience there, although I can’t now remember why. When she had her second knee surgery, I offered to come up and stay with her for a few days so she didn’t have to go somewhere else. In those days, the surgery wasn’t outpatient, like it is now, so she would have had a few days recovering in the hospital first.
I picked her up from the hospital and drove her to the house where I’d grown up. They must have given me information about her medications and activity requirements, but in general, we can assume that I was almost entirely ignorant about what recovery from knee replacement surgery was really like. I didn’t stay long – probably three nights, since I felt a need to get back to my own family. I was nervous about her being able to go up and down the stairs without falling, but she assured me she was okay. I knew that a couple of my siblings would be able to check in on her regularly, so off I went.
Now that I’ve been through this same surgery, I wish I could tell her how brave she was to go through it all by herself, especially at that age. I wish I had stayed with her longer, too. The first couple of weeks after my own surgery, I leaned heavily on my husband for help with the medication schedule, meal making, errand running, ice machine management (which included coming down at 2:00 a.m. every night for one and a half weeks to refill the ice machine with frozen water bottles), and comforting companionship. He was always sitting right there in the room with me if I needed anything. My dad would absolutely have done the same for Mom if he’d been able.
I would love to have been able to compare stories with my mom after I had my surgery, to find out how the physical therapy and rehab went with her, to learn more about what she thought about her new knees, and whether or not she wished she’d had the surgery done earlier. However, it was oddly comforting to have the use of her walker and cane. I think perhaps she would have been glad to know that even though she couldn’t be here to encourage me along the way, she helped me nonetheless by leaving behind those sturdy tools of support that I couldn’t have imagined needing. Underneath it all lies the unfathomable providence of God.
“O, the depths of the riches, both of the wisdom and knowledge of God. How unsearchable are His judgments and unfathomable His ways.” Romans 11:33
I’ll probably put this in the blog garage in the morning, out of mind and sight.
Slept the best I have since getting home from the surgery – yay!
Zipped around in the morning doing some straightening here and there, felt rather pleased with my level of activity.
Icing and stretches – check.
Walked around the house again for a bit. No problem!
Skipped the lunchtime pain meds. Regrets will come.
More icing and stretches. Definitely feeling it. Pretty sure that my leg is just one gigantic bruise at this point.
Did some reading, some watching, Duo Lingo lessons, listened to podcasts.
Late afternoon pain pill. Might be too late to make a difference. I have learned an important lesson.
Feeling groggy with weariness by suppertime. Our son stopped by to join us, which was cheery.
Made a half-hearted attempt to do a few more revolutions around the house, but found myself drawn to the couch as if by a magnet. Tomorrow will be better, I tell myself.
Our daughter sent me some little notes to open each day, which has been a lot of fun. Today’s was a limerick she wrote:
A friend of mine known for misplacement Once got a knee replacement A couple years after She found, with much laughter, She’d left her old knee in the basement.
Lynniebeemuseoday 