I’ll probably delete this in the morning.
The Canada goose
Is on the loose
The Canadian geese
Evade the police
If seen in your counties
Please call the mounties
If loitering in lobbies
Call for the bobbies
Don’t try to chase ‘em
Don’t try to race ‘em
Just frolic and caper
And put ‘em on paper.
And that’s all I’ve got for today.
Time to caper off and delete this…in the morning.
This bunny cup was given to me when I was born. At some point in my adult life, my mother gave it to me, and it has stayed in the shadows for all these years. Not in literal shadows, but the fact of its existence has never prompted any thought in my brain whatsoever. Clearly I’ve been packing it and moving it with us when we’ve moved, right? It’s been on a shelf collecting dust which I have not even bothered to clean.
Our daughter is expecting a baby, their first, and when I realized I’d be able to go to the baby shower, I was looking around for something old of mine to give her, in addition to other things. The bunny cup waved a metaphorical hand to get my attention and just like that, I saw it. How charming! I looked on the bottom of it and saw that it was signed “B ‘58.” No longer a random kitschy item, this had true provenance. I could tell by the signature that the bunny cup had been lovingly painted for me by one of my two aunts, both of whom had names beginning with the letter B. Which one? I couldn’t tell, but decided it had to have been the older “B,” since I knew she was the artsy type.
I cleaned it off and gift-wrapped it, preparing it for its new home out West. On the way out there, I got an unexpected email from one of my cousins, a son of the younger “B.” He attached several photos of his mother’s pottery, a topic we’d apparently touched on at some point and which I had forgotten. Lo and behold, there it was, her signature on the bottom of several pieces, the very same signature that was on the bunny cup. A small thing, but this was True Providence. Here was an item I hadn’t thought about or cared about for decades and almost the very minute I began wondering who made it for me, the answer came in an unprompted email. Some would see this as an unremarkable coincidence, but I see it as a kindness of the Lord’s, an attention to little details. What I put in the shadows, He brings to light.
I’ll probably delete this in the morning, if I can find it among the shadows.
The boy was doted upon as the only son of his parents. His mother was from the far away north, born in Norway and coming to the New World as a little girl. His father was a son of Minnesota, born among the pines and lakes. Somehow they met – God arranged it very carefully – and decided they were better together than apart. A marriage ceremony sealed matters nicely. The boy came along shortly afterward, but not too shortly, if you get my meaning.
He was a happy lad with a sweet and cheerful nature. But as he grew, he realized that his happiness was not quite complete. No, things wouldn’t be quite right in his world unless he had a brother. He made his petition to the parents and such was their devotion to him that they got right on it. The year the boy turned 5, everyone in the household made room for one more little boy, a baby brother, who also had a sweet and cheerful nature. And he, too, was doted upon.
Although I have added some verbiage to it, this is essentially the story my dad used to tell us about how he got a little brother. I have no reason to doubt its veracity. But there was always that twinkle in his eye as he told it…
Unless this post is doted upon, I’m afraid I shall have to delete it.
I don’t think Bob Dylan would mind me changing up the words to that song a little bit today. If you live in our neck of the woods, your house has been buffeted by strong winds, your trees are having a mighty swaying party, and dust clouds are obscuring the landscape. I tried to get a photo, but it was hard to get one that told the whole story. When you look at it, insert the sound effects as much as you can.
Last night I went out to take a few photos of the sky and surroundings as the sun was setting. I wanted more color so I cheated and used the vivid setting on my camera. Let’s call it “art” instead of cheating, okay?
Oh yes, that last photo is my announcement that we’ve got our fountains running again, a harbinger of warm weather. Come and visit and we’ll sit on a bench and enjoy the ambiance. Tell me your stories and I’ll tell you mine. Deal?
I’ll probably delete this vividly in the morning.
To see the Law by Christ fulfill’d
And hear his pard’ning voice;
changes a slave into a child,
and duty into choice.
William Cowper (1731-1800)
The world is a window through which we espy heav’n.
To look at the world and see only the world
is like looking at a window
instead of looking through the window
to see what’s beyond it.
Joe Rigney, The Things of Earth
I believe in God like I believe in the sun,
not only because I see him,
but because by him
I see everything else.
C.S. Lewis
Hold us in quiet through the age-long minutes
while Thou art quiet and the wind is shrill.
Can the boat sink while Thou, dear Lord, art in it?
Can the heart faint that waiteth on Thy will?
Hold us in quiet.
Amy Carmichael
Seeing someone read a book you love
is like hearing a book recommend a person
instead of the other way around.
Unknown
Deleting, defeating, depleting…thus it goes…in the morning.
Our hearts are often tugged out West, where most of our children and all of our grandchildren live. Every so often, we follow the tug of our hearts and point our car westward. We’ve been out there so often, I think our car knows the way, but we still keep hands firmly on the wheel. And by “we” I mean my husband, since I don’t do any of the driving. We are both happy with this arrangement, thank the Lord.
I had thought, as usual, to keep up with this blog. And also as usual, I did not. I don’t mind this tug-of-war between plans and reality. It’s become part of the syncopated rhythm of my life when we travel.
And now, just a small sampling of our time away. I might share more in future blog posts.
At the end of three weeks, our car rolled back into our familiar driveway. As if to herald our arrival, a rainbow was in the sky and our crabapple tree held out arms full of pink blossoms.
There’s no place like home.
Praise God from whom all blessings flow
I’ll probably do what with this in the morning? (This is a test, to see if you remember)
The Cat: Put me down, please.
The Girl: She’s so cuddly!
The Cat: Are we done yet?
The Girl: She loves it when I hold her!
The Cat: I see things I’d like to chase.
The Girl: What could be better than holding a soft cat?
The Cat: I should try squirming around. That ought to do it.
The Girl: Look at the camera, Puss!
The Cat: Nope.
The End.
The Blog: Finish me off.
The Writer: I’m not sure I’m done.
The Blog: You are.
The Writer: Delete.
‘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.
Somehow it seems right to put these photos together.
The second photo is from when my dad was experimenting with trick photography back when he was about 14 years old. The caption was his.
As in water face reflects face,
So the heart of man reflects man.
Proverbs 27:19
As in blog, post deletes post, so the heart of a blogger deletes post. Or something like that.
The world is full of surprises, isn’t it? The chances of meeting a pirate in the produce aisle are slim, but apparently not impossible.
Be on the lookout.
The Dread Pirate Robert will probably kill this blog in the morning.
Quotes from the Commonplace Book
A room without books is like a body without a soul.
Cicero
Let be known that we have enough book-filled rooms to ensoul our whole house.
Christian contentment is that sweet, inward, quiet, gracious frame of spirit, which freely submits to and delights in God‘s wise and fatherly disposal in every condition.
Jeremiah Burroughs
And this side of heaven, reality will often feel like grief. Something is wrong. Deeply wrong.
Reality itself is a puzzle with no solution in the box.
The missing pieces to the puzzle aren’t here.
…Artwork routinely comes out of the puzzle of grief, perhaps not great grief – like the loss of a loved one – but the normal every day, grief of finding yourself living in a world that you know in your bones has gone very, very wrong.
S. D. Morgan
I will sing to the Lord,
because he has dealt bountifully with me.
King David, Psalm 13:6
God is the source of all our blessings – He is the ocean of blessings. Creatures are but the hands which distribute his charity through a needy world.
Samuel Davies
And now, for a random photo:
A blog without an ending is deleted in the morning.
Lynniebeemuseoday 