‘Tis the season! The garden paintbox cracks open – Lovely tubes of reds and yellows, Watercolors splashed among leaves, Calling out a cheery hello to your neighbors “Hello! I’m just passing through! Happy to pose for photos!”
Don’t forget: Jesus is the reason for this season, too.
‘Tis also the season for deleting. Deleting happens.
It’s hard to put out content when I’m having trouble with my arm, so I’m going to post just a photo or two from the dead photo file each day for a bit. Let the photos tell you things while i rest my arm. Prayers appreciated!
When you have a summery day in March You sit on your garden bench, Even though dry stalks and faded glories Are the only things left in it.
A distant train whistle sings, The faithful owl keeps watch (I am amazed that no one stole it Over the long winter – hooray!)
The spring-warm sun greets my face Bringing on fit of sneezing (does that happen to others?). Once – twice – thrice…I think I’m done. I wish those killdeer that I hear would come visit.
I brought four books out to read, Which seems like an absurdly optimistic pile. Instead I sit, watch, listen, And hope there are wisps of poems in the breeze.
This morning I was chased and harassed By a goblin named Anxiety Until finally I knelt by my bedside To hash it out with the Lord.
Be anxious for nothing… Let your requests be made known to God. I told Him everything – really, I did! The goblin stood by to remind me what I was anxious about.
It was a revolving door there for awhile: Anxiety out, peace in; peace out, anxiety in. But I just kept taking every thought captive to the obedience of Christ Until that old goblin slunk away in disgrace.
Hours later, I’m out under a fresh blue sky In this Hallelujah Garden Where God’s greening up the earth And banishing the goblins of the morning.
I’ve been reading a book of poetry by Billy Collins and thought I’d take a stab at his style of conversational poems.
I’ll probably banish this hob-bloggin in the morning.
There’s no getting around it – when you sharpen a pencil, some of the good stuff has to go. It seems wasteful, but it’s part of the cost of getting a sharp point with which to draw and color (notice how I avoided leaving a dangling preposition there, and do likewise). It’s interesting how so many things have to be sharpened to be at their best: knives, arrows, scissors, people… Yes, I did that – I added people to the mix. As iron sharpens iron, so one man sharpens another, said the Preacher. Being sharpened usually doesn’t feel good, but it equips us to be better tools for God’s service. Put me up against that whetstone; sharpen me like a pencil. The stuff that grinds off or peels away isn’t essential and I’m better off without it. Give me a nice, sharp point and set me loose.
I’m having a bit of trouble with my arm this week, so instead of writing new posts, I’m going to re-post the first five posts I wrote when I started this blog back in March of 2018, seven years ago. Here’s the first one in which by complete happenstance, I signed off with what would become my signature sign-off: some version of “I’ll probably delete this in the morning.
March 27, 2018 I Will Awaken the Dawn This seems unnecessarily complicated.
I’m switching to WordPress from Blogger to get access to the photos on my iPad (my blog there was called “Further Up and Further In,” a nod to C.S. Lewis). https://fari-blog.blogspot.com/
Now that it comes to it, I don’t have much to say about this photo, one of the first I took on my new Nikon D3400 camera with the nifty 70-300 lens that came with it. I was in my bathrobe and slippers outside on a frosty cold morning when I took this, hoping to see birds in yonder tree, but had to be content with yonder tree against the dawn sky. The Psalmist said, “I will awaken the dawn.” Something tells me that I would have had to be awake before dawn to be able to use that quote accurately.
I’ll probably delete this blog entry later when I get this all figured out (this is somewhat akin to the Dread Pirate Roberts telling Westley everyday “I’ll probably kill you in the morning.”).
That title might be the best part of this post, by the way, but forge on just in case.
I took a few photos from my digital album today and subjected them to some upgrades (or not) through the use of photo editing programs.
What name would you give this fine specimen of a squirrel?
Somehow a haiku appeared on this photo, though not the product of AI, but LI (Lynniebee Intelligence).
Adding a green-ish background to these oranges just made the orange color pop a bit more. The oranges played an important part in the cake, by the way. Oh, haven’t I mentioned the cake yet? Read on!
And last, but not least, we ate cake, due to the celebration of my husband’s birthday. I won’t tell his age, but will give you the hint that yes, I still need him and feed him.
The Glorious Orange Marmalade Cake
And day turned to night, the sky became dark, rain will turn into snow, and we are glad to be indoors.
This post will turn into empty seed bristles in the morning.
The older I get, the less capacity I have to fit multiple things in the mental space that is my brain. Hence the two-week break from posting on this blog. Other things were occupying the Space Formerly Known as Blog Posting.
But it’s a new week, one in which space has opened up again. It’s time to share some random photos from February and finish up with a list of Daily Benefits.
The Scepter of the Fairy QueenPlaying peek-a-boo with a squirrel. “Please kind lady, could you give me a peanut?”“Much obliged. Thank you. Now leave me to eat in peace.”A visitor to our yard. Our latest granddaughter!Adorable!!! ❤️
Note: Even though my readership is small, this is a public blog, so I don’t use the proper names of our grandchildren on here. For that reason, I ask those of you who know the names not to mention them in your comments. Thank you!
Blessed be the Lord, who daily loads us with benefits:
Grandchildren!
The miracle of babies.
Black bean soup…yum
Body parts that still work.
Warm days in early March.
Letters in the mail.
Neighbors who will text you when you have an eagle in your front yard.
Psalms, hymns and spiritual songs.
All righty then! I think it’s time for my usual sign off: I’ll probably delete this in the morning.
The poinsettia said, “I’m thirsty,” But I was much too busy. The poinsettia said, “I’m dry,” But I just walked right by. The poinsettia leaves were dropping But I passed it without stopping. The poinsettia leaves turned black And I paid attention at last.
Don’t let this happen to your poinsettia.
I’ll probably delete this when the edges turn black.