We are all emerging from hibernation in my part of the world. I sat outside in the sun this afternoon and my skin said, “What is this warmth touching me?” I put on some music and sat for a long time, watching cars, trucks and motorcycles go by and saw quite a few people out for a walk, some with dogs and some without. I like to think I’m invisible to the world when I sit out front. From the attention I get, which is none, I think it’s a reasonable assumption.
The trees are emerging from their hibernation, too. I can see from across the yard that they’re getting ready to get going on some major leaf production.
Our wind chimes were playing music with gentle winds.
And old growth will be making room for new.
Sing praise to the Lord of the seasons!
I’ll probably get rid of old posts to make room for new ones that will have to be deleted.
At 6:00 a.m. the birds twitter The sun creeps o’er the earth And dark night once again Gives way to sunlight’s mirth
I stepped outside briefly this morning when I saw those first glimmers of sun spreading in the east. The birds were, indeed, a-twitterin’, the most cheerful sound you can hear on a cold spring morning.
Recovery from knee replacement surgery has been a long night, but I see glimmers of sun in the east.
Praise God from whom all blessings flow.
The dark night of this post will give way to sunlight’s mirth in the morning.
We went forth early this morning in a dark, dense and mysterious fog. After a night of interrupted sleep coupled with obsessive dreams about the caramel pecan rolls I was bringing to Bible Breakfast, the fog felt just right. We kept our eyes peeled for deer that might decide that this was the perfect morning to jump in front of a car, and when I felt fears creeping in, I prayed, “Lord protect us from deer jumping in front of our car.” I don’t think the Lord needs flowery prayers at a time like that, do you? On the way home, it was still so foggy, we drove right past our house.
Every once in a while I go through my “Books to Read” list on Goodreads and order a slew of them from the library. I’m not sure why I don’t take a more tempered approach, like perhaps one or two at a time. This is apparently not my way. I have a stack of five in front of me that just came and I’m wondering if this is too many. I’m also in the middle of six or seven books at home. Wait, I just counted them – it’s eight. I got a phone call this morning from the library and there’s one more waiting for me there. Could this be some form of insanity? Inquiring minds want to know.
This morning I put Jeeves to work sweeping and mopping the dining room. I was listening to some orchestral music by Sir Edward Elgar and watching Jeeves go back and forth in front of me. Suddenly I realized I was watching a ballet with Jeeves gliding along the smooth hardwood floor putting in an occasional pirouette as he switched directions in time with the music. This just goes to prove that an imagination can make anything epic.
One last thought. We were telling our son recently about how we got rid of two large metal desks by putting them out on the curb on a nice sunny day with a “FREE” sign. We didn’t actually see who picked them up, but they were gone within a day. Our son suggested that maybe no one had picked them up. “Perhaps,” he said, “they took off for some wooded area nearby and have gone feral.” Doesn’t that idea just cry out for a whimsical poem? I’m giving it some thought.
Whimsically, Me
This post will be obscured by a dark, dense and mysterious fog in the morning.
The alarm went off at the wrong time this morning. Technically, it’s been going off at the wrong time ever since last Sunday, the Day that We Wrenched an Hour out of our Lives.
Went to 7:00 a.m. Bible study this morning and discussed various things having to do with a few verses in John 12. We traipsed merrily around the Bible to look at related passages. My brain felt impaired, but fortunately I kept my mouth shut and didn’t advertise the fact. The sky was dark when we left home, but the sun had risen by the time we left the church.
At home we’re reading in Job and Romans now. Meaty stuff. I got to a chapter in Job where he starts rolling out the sarcasm toward his “friends,” always an entertaining part.
Spent almost four hours writing a poem inspired by the book “The Magician’s Nephew” by C.S. Lewis. The poem was a writing assignment. I filled a page of scratch paper with rhyming words, 90% of which I did not use.
Forced myself to get out of the chair (the Sticky Chair, as I often think of it) to get my body moving. Physical therapy, stationary biking, getting more steps in, working in the kitchen.
I’m staring at the clock now and it’s staring back at me accusingly. Somehow I got lured into the Sticky Chair again. The kitchen is calling me and if I don’t respond, things will go all askew in our schedule.
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?
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.
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.
Today the day finally arrived: my total knee replacement surgery. I had been getting rather nervous about it as the day got closer, but I now know what it’s like to be carried by the prayers of others. The Lord gave me some peace of mind on the day before and I actually got some sleep!
I will probably share my journey through this process here on the old blog. It helps me to work through things. Flannery O’Connor said something about how she doesn’t know how she feels about something until she writes about it. That’s something I can relate to quite well.
It’s getting late in the day, so let me just say that the surgery itself was just shy of two hours, I was home by 1:00 p.m, and my husband has been the perfect caregiver, looking to my every need and helping keep all those meds straight. Who needs a rehab facility when you have such great care at home?
I also got so many encouraging texts and emails, and even a FaceTime call from our 7-month old granddaughter (with a little help). So many blessings…thank you, Lord! And thank you all my good friends and loving family members for caring about me and praying for me.
The night is ahead and I am hoping and praying to get some sleep. Here’s what I’ve been doing most of the day, when I’m not taking little walks around the house.
I’ll probably need help deleting this in the morning.
I am sitting in the cold room in front of a heater.
Yet my hands are still cold and the heat has been swallowed up in the distance between me and it.
This is January in Minnesota. Those of us who live here understand that “as the days lengthen, the cold strengthens.” The Lord God made it so. Rejoice…and fill up the hot water bottle.
I’ll probably need to thaw this one out in the morning.
It’s a windy, gray day today. My tea has cooled and I’m trying to decide whether or not I want to get up and put it in the microwave. There’s a loaf of sourdough bread baking in the oven. I have high hopes it will turn out better than the last one. The clock that my mother embroidered says that it’s 4:00. I grew up looking at that clock and probably never really appreciated the artistry of it.
That’s all for the musings o’ day. It’s time to share some thoughts and quotes from my commonplace book.
Be courteous to all, but intimate with few, and let those few be well tried before you give them your confidence. George Washington
Good advice from George. Perhaps he got burned once giving someone his confidence and was betrayed. Oh wait…
Tact is the ability to tell someone to go to hell in such a way that they look forward to the trip. Winston Churchill
Ha ha! I suppose a statesman needs to have that kind of tact at the ready. I’m not sure that WC was known for his tact, though, as much as for his razor sharp wit. I would not have wanted to be on the receiving end of it.
Don’t ever take a fence down until you know why it was put up. Robert Frost
There’s a lot more to that saying than meets the eye. Think about it the next time you find yourself thinking about removing a boundary that is inconveniencing you. Perhaps the removal of it will bring consequences that are worse than inconvenience.
Live slowly enough to be able to think deeply about God. J.I. Packer
Live s-l-o-w-l-y and think DEEPLY about God. You’re going to need to be reading your Bible to get on with that.
And now you can also think deeply about this beautifully embroidered clock.
When the sourdough bread gets crusty, this post will get dusty. And deleted.
Lynniebeemuseoday 