Mercifully, this morning's weather makes it a pleasure to sit on the deck, sip a cup of coffee, and take it all in...even with a light sweatshirt on. Quite the drastic change from morning after morning this summer when it was easily 80 by 8 and 90 by 9. I sure welcome the change.
Change is a big part of my thinking today. As I scroll through the morning's news on the "virtual back fence" of Facebook, I see picture after picture and post after post about the BIG day today--the first day of school in our district. And a big day it is--for students, for teachers, for parents, for lots of folks that all work together to make school a good place to be. Lots of anticipation is stuffed into that first day--a gentle morning is a quiet blessing in disguise for all of them.
The whole idea of change comes to me as I sit here writing...for the first time in 27 years, I've not been involved in some aspect of formal education. No elementary school, no middle school, no high school, no junior college, no university, no consultant roles. THAT's a change. All those years of getting geared back up for another school year were unique and wonderful and a blessing in many ways, shapes, and forms. But now there's a new road to travel...
Starting down this new road, I'm finding my way of looking at the world around me has be allowed to shift somewhat. It's come at a good time in life--one's 50's just more or less gives one more freedom to expand with a lot less apprehension. It's a good place to be on life's journey, time-wise, if a new road pops up to be discovered and traveled.
I pray each morning that on this new road I'll be of good help to those around me; not so different from the prayers of the last 27 years, come to think of it. I guess once the compass is set in life, it varies little.
If you find yourself reading this and feel that little tug to take a peek or set a foot on a new road to travel, I hope you won't deny yourself the chance. We head down many roads throughout this phase of the journey---don't let fear or doubt keep you from trying it out. After all, you were once that little person in that picture in on your first day of school...and it all turned out okay. Just remember to check the compass and remember that roads in life's travels come with good guides; we just have to keep our minds and eyes and souls open to find them.
As I start down this road of complementary health care, I find my own feelings reflected in the eyes of those little people in the pictures on Facebook...a little anticipation and a lot of happy curiosity. New roads will do that for a traveler--it's an ageless experience.
Have a fine day.
Friday, August 10, 2012
Thursday, July 19, 2012
Gifts from the Garden
It's been a long, hot summer already. With the lack of rain, the yards have become somewhat crunchy, the evergreens are turning ever brown, and our once beautiful hydrangea bush is now full of droopy leaves and browned flowers.
As beautiful as the spring garden was, the hopes and ideas I had for the garden this spring have pretty much become dust. Instead of rows of leeks and summer vegetables of all kinds, there are several rows of just prepared dirt.
It's just too hot and dry to try to plant things...
or is it?
Garden plants never cease to amaze me. Once I pulled the bolted lettuce and picked the end of the spinach to put into the freezer, I decided to take the gamble and plant a cucumber hill and a zucchini hill. By that time, rain was sparse at best. As you know, it's not been much better.
But I have beautiful cucumber and zucchini vines...miracles in the making.
Today, I gave a little sweat equity and hoed out the crab grass and the starts of the morning glory vines. In return, I received some beautiful gifts from the garden. And tonight, I enjoyed a lovely supper from those gifts. Even in the worst of conditions, I was still able to pick tomatoes, zucchini, onion, and bell pepper. It looked beautiful and smelled wonderful cooking away for supper along with some fresh parsley, oregano, basil, rosemary, chives, and garlic chives--more gifts from a small garden spot.
The peace and satisfaction that comes from growing food is a feeling that defies words. To see something mature from simple seeds to beautiful, thriving plants is worth every blister and sore muscle it requires. To work with soil and watch it recreate life is nothing short of a spiritual experience.
The weather will eventually break, the rains will come, and the yard will once again spring to life. The evergreens may not make it and the hydrangeas may need to be replaced. That's just part of the life of a gardener.
Nevertheless, the gifts from the garden will always make these things less discouraging.
Have a fine day.
As beautiful as the spring garden was, the hopes and ideas I had for the garden this spring have pretty much become dust. Instead of rows of leeks and summer vegetables of all kinds, there are several rows of just prepared dirt.
It's just too hot and dry to try to plant things...
or is it?
Garden plants never cease to amaze me. Once I pulled the bolted lettuce and picked the end of the spinach to put into the freezer, I decided to take the gamble and plant a cucumber hill and a zucchini hill. By that time, rain was sparse at best. As you know, it's not been much better.
But I have beautiful cucumber and zucchini vines...miracles in the making.
Today, I gave a little sweat equity and hoed out the crab grass and the starts of the morning glory vines. In return, I received some beautiful gifts from the garden. And tonight, I enjoyed a lovely supper from those gifts. Even in the worst of conditions, I was still able to pick tomatoes, zucchini, onion, and bell pepper. It looked beautiful and smelled wonderful cooking away for supper along with some fresh parsley, oregano, basil, rosemary, chives, and garlic chives--more gifts from a small garden spot.
The peace and satisfaction that comes from growing food is a feeling that defies words. To see something mature from simple seeds to beautiful, thriving plants is worth every blister and sore muscle it requires. To work with soil and watch it recreate life is nothing short of a spiritual experience.
The weather will eventually break, the rains will come, and the yard will once again spring to life. The evergreens may not make it and the hydrangeas may need to be replaced. That's just part of the life of a gardener.
Nevertheless, the gifts from the garden will always make these things less discouraging.
Have a fine day.
Thursday, May 10, 2012
Good Things Come in Small Packages
I was helping out some elderly former neighbors with their yard which, due to health issues, has now become overwhelming to them. I was glad to do it; I had spent plenty of time in that yard over several years as a kid, and figured it was the least I could do for them...and the yard.
The first thing I noticed was that everything seemed smaller than I remembered. Wonder why that is? I've heard lots of people make that comment upon returning to a childhood haunt. What is it about adulthood that shrinks our reality? Or rather what is it about our childhood that enlarges our memories? As I stood on the porch for a bit trimming a bush, I remembered how several of us managed to squeeze ourselves into the porch swing hanging there. Now, looking at it, my first thought was how small the chain looked...guess that's a built-in preventive measure to keep our bones in tact as we age.
Reality can be a bit of a kill-joy.
Later, as I was hauling some trimmings down to the bottom of the yard to put in the brush pile, I looked over at a side of the yard and immediately recalled one afternoon, many years ago, when we had a sled-perfect big snow. That little, narrow patch of hill kept the neighborhood and my brothers, returning home for the fun, happy for hours. We used sleds, an old car hood, water skis with the lower fins removed, metal disks...if it would slide that day, we tried it. That hill looks as though it could never have held that much fun--but it did.
I was given a gift today--a trip back into the time of being a kid with not a care in the world. Later, driving back home, I decided for sure that good things do come a small packages.
Have a fine day.
The first thing I noticed was that everything seemed smaller than I remembered. Wonder why that is? I've heard lots of people make that comment upon returning to a childhood haunt. What is it about adulthood that shrinks our reality? Or rather what is it about our childhood that enlarges our memories? As I stood on the porch for a bit trimming a bush, I remembered how several of us managed to squeeze ourselves into the porch swing hanging there. Now, looking at it, my first thought was how small the chain looked...guess that's a built-in preventive measure to keep our bones in tact as we age.
Reality can be a bit of a kill-joy.
Later, as I was hauling some trimmings down to the bottom of the yard to put in the brush pile, I looked over at a side of the yard and immediately recalled one afternoon, many years ago, when we had a sled-perfect big snow. That little, narrow patch of hill kept the neighborhood and my brothers, returning home for the fun, happy for hours. We used sleds, an old car hood, water skis with the lower fins removed, metal disks...if it would slide that day, we tried it. That hill looks as though it could never have held that much fun--but it did.
I was given a gift today--a trip back into the time of being a kid with not a care in the world. Later, driving back home, I decided for sure that good things do come a small packages.
Have a fine day.
Sunday, January 15, 2012
Silly Complications
I noticed it had been awhile since some official meandering had been done here at Highbanks...once the cold weather takes over and the writing chair goes from chair on the deck to chair in the living room, I guess the inspiration shuffles a bit. However, from the chair in the living room last night, I viewed something that, unless I had been told what it was repeatedly, would never have recognized it.
It was, I understand, the Miss America pageant.
What I viewed was kind of like a bad mix of a reality show/pageant/trashing of tradition--all at hyper-speed. Yikes!
I hadn't watched one of these for a number of years; now I'm wondering how it got to this train wreck status.
Hopping into the way-back machine, I can remember as a kid watching this show as an event. I know, our choices back then were limited, but this was kind of a big deal, especially to us little girls who would line up their Barbie dolls to view the event along with us. What I remember were beautiful ladies with lots of hair, walking very straight, speaking politely, and doing everything with more grace than could be believed.
What I saw last night was excessive fast talking, lots of twisting and exaggerated walking, that ever-present "hand on the hip/back arch to make me look fashionable", and talent presentations on a floor space that was squeezed as tightly as the bikinis on the now undernourished women competing. Only once did I hear my beloved say, "She's actually shaped like a real woman." I'd have to agree.
Back in my living room of long ago, I would always get a piece of paper and I would rank my top five. Mom and Dad would play along, being the good sports that they were. Sometimes, my top five would be obliterated in the top 10, so my kind parents gave me a do-over for my top five from the new top 10.
Last night I was confused and mortified in the way that all the women were marched out to await their turn only to be singled out for elimination and then being asked that long-standing, idiotic perennial question by one of the "hosts"..."How does it feel?" I would have to guess pretty rotten... And, the "people's choice" young lady picked from the start? Do we have to participate in everything that's produced for TV anymore? Can we not just sit back and let them put on the show without our direct involvement? Yikes again!
The real kicker for last night was, however, the "let's choose our best playground buddy" in what was called the "save"...the poor women had already been eliminated, so then three were called back and their peers voted them back on this merciless merry-go-round not by a dignified secret ballot, but by running to them like kids on a playground when choosing up sides for a game of tag. The poor woman in the middle last night was doubly humiliated by just a smattering of supporters. That goes beyond a yikes, right into a WOW.
So by the end of the evening with all the speed talking, the speed walking, the speed performing, and the speed question answering, we did end up with a new Miss America...and I think many of us ended up with a dizzy spell.
Sorry...but I'm going full-out old school on this one. Let's face it and not hide the fact...this is a beauty pageant...and it's okay! Not everyone will qualify--also okay. There are plenty of things for the rest of us to do. And, since it truly was originally meant to be a beauty pageant, let's get back to treating it as such and allow us to just sit back and watch a couple of hours of talent, poise, grace, and some good, old-fashioned pretty.
I have to give the young ladies in last night's fiasco some real credit. They pretty much achieved the impossible. Even with the lousy direction of people who thought they were being clever, these young women were able to do what they needed to do and represent themselves as beauty queens from their home states...good on them.
Maybe there's hope yet, Bert...
It was, I understand, the Miss America pageant.
What I viewed was kind of like a bad mix of a reality show/pageant/trashing of tradition--all at hyper-speed. Yikes!
I hadn't watched one of these for a number of years; now I'm wondering how it got to this train wreck status.
Hopping into the way-back machine, I can remember as a kid watching this show as an event. I know, our choices back then were limited, but this was kind of a big deal, especially to us little girls who would line up their Barbie dolls to view the event along with us. What I remember were beautiful ladies with lots of hair, walking very straight, speaking politely, and doing everything with more grace than could be believed.
What I saw last night was excessive fast talking, lots of twisting and exaggerated walking, that ever-present "hand on the hip/back arch to make me look fashionable", and talent presentations on a floor space that was squeezed as tightly as the bikinis on the now undernourished women competing. Only once did I hear my beloved say, "She's actually shaped like a real woman." I'd have to agree.
Back in my living room of long ago, I would always get a piece of paper and I would rank my top five. Mom and Dad would play along, being the good sports that they were. Sometimes, my top five would be obliterated in the top 10, so my kind parents gave me a do-over for my top five from the new top 10.
Last night I was confused and mortified in the way that all the women were marched out to await their turn only to be singled out for elimination and then being asked that long-standing, idiotic perennial question by one of the "hosts"..."How does it feel?" I would have to guess pretty rotten... And, the "people's choice" young lady picked from the start? Do we have to participate in everything that's produced for TV anymore? Can we not just sit back and let them put on the show without our direct involvement? Yikes again!
The real kicker for last night was, however, the "let's choose our best playground buddy" in what was called the "save"...the poor women had already been eliminated, so then three were called back and their peers voted them back on this merciless merry-go-round not by a dignified secret ballot, but by running to them like kids on a playground when choosing up sides for a game of tag. The poor woman in the middle last night was doubly humiliated by just a smattering of supporters. That goes beyond a yikes, right into a WOW.
So by the end of the evening with all the speed talking, the speed walking, the speed performing, and the speed question answering, we did end up with a new Miss America...and I think many of us ended up with a dizzy spell.
Sorry...but I'm going full-out old school on this one. Let's face it and not hide the fact...this is a beauty pageant...and it's okay! Not everyone will qualify--also okay. There are plenty of things for the rest of us to do. And, since it truly was originally meant to be a beauty pageant, let's get back to treating it as such and allow us to just sit back and watch a couple of hours of talent, poise, grace, and some good, old-fashioned pretty.
I have to give the young ladies in last night's fiasco some real credit. They pretty much achieved the impossible. Even with the lousy direction of people who thought they were being clever, these young women were able to do what they needed to do and represent themselves as beauty queens from their home states...good on them.
Maybe there's hope yet, Bert...
Monday, November 7, 2011
Land That I Love
As I drive over to the community college where I'm currently doing some adjunct teaching, I've been known to belt out a song or two in the privacy of my little car. The songs are usually random, and they tend to be those that bring up good memories. Today I was in my best Kate Smith form with a strong rendition of "God Bless America". I think it came from a combination of hearing it every night of the World Series along with the memories of my dad saying that no one could sing that song like Kate.
While thinking about the words as I was singing somewhat robustly, the particular phrase "land that I love" stuck with me. That part of the song came in conjunction with me crossing a bridge over White River where the photographer in me never fails to take a quick, sweeping look to my left and right, sizing up a picture in my mind. This time of year the trees are in various stages of bareness with a few still hanging on to their leaves for all they're worth. To some, it's a depressing time of year; to me, it's beautiful. It's nature at work; even through the barrenness it's life transforming once again.
It is the land that I love. Truly my own little corner of the world.
My thoughts then went out to friends and relatives that live in different parts of the US. Those from the Southwest tell of its beauty through various descriptions; the same holds true for those from the Northeast, the Northwest, and the South. Although the pictures they create with their words are widely different, the words hold one thing in common--it is the land that they love.
So, for today, I'm going to focus not on the gibberish of people who talk for a living, who campaign for a living, or make rules upon rules for a living. Today I'm going to focus on my immediate surroundings. On my drive back, I'll turn off the noise on the radio and tune in to the trees, the harvested fields, and the various sites that make this my home--the land that I love.
And, more than likely, I'll sing again.
Have a fine day.
While thinking about the words as I was singing somewhat robustly, the particular phrase "land that I love" stuck with me. That part of the song came in conjunction with me crossing a bridge over White River where the photographer in me never fails to take a quick, sweeping look to my left and right, sizing up a picture in my mind. This time of year the trees are in various stages of bareness with a few still hanging on to their leaves for all they're worth. To some, it's a depressing time of year; to me, it's beautiful. It's nature at work; even through the barrenness it's life transforming once again.
It is the land that I love. Truly my own little corner of the world.
My thoughts then went out to friends and relatives that live in different parts of the US. Those from the Southwest tell of its beauty through various descriptions; the same holds true for those from the Northeast, the Northwest, and the South. Although the pictures they create with their words are widely different, the words hold one thing in common--it is the land that they love.
So, for today, I'm going to focus not on the gibberish of people who talk for a living, who campaign for a living, or make rules upon rules for a living. Today I'm going to focus on my immediate surroundings. On my drive back, I'll turn off the noise on the radio and tune in to the trees, the harvested fields, and the various sites that make this my home--the land that I love.
And, more than likely, I'll sing again.
Have a fine day.
Tuesday, November 1, 2011
A Day at a Time
Anybody else out there guilty of getting up in the morning only to have the entire day planned out, plan b'd, and worried over sufficiently?
I decided today to try something a little different.
Every time I felt concern about what needed to happen during the day or days to come or days in the past, I reminded myself of God's words to us in Matthew 6:34: "Then have no care for tomorrow: tomorrow will take care of itself. Take the trouble of the day as it comes."
So, I went about my business. I went and taught a class at the community college and it went fine. I came home, had a bit of lunch, called my mom and chatted a bit--all was well. I then cut, fixed, and had a nice visit with a nice client in my little beauty shop--very enjoyable. I got my husband ready for work, we had a nice visit before we wished each other a good evening--always a joy to spend time with the Mister. I went to the garden, picked some lovely greens, fixed a nice salad for supper--a delight. The remainder of the evening I wrote--a productive time.
I figured something out: I didn't need to worry about tomorrow--frankly, I have no idea what it will bring since I'm not in charge, thank the good Lord. I do know I'm in good hands no matter what.
I also figured out something else: There was no need to fume or worry today. All was well with the world. Did I make a million dollars? No. Do I need a million dollars? No. God provides. Did I set the world on fire? I don't believe I did. Did I do a tiny bit of good? I think so--I wrote cards to shut-ins on behalf of our church family. A small gesture, but it feels good doing God's bidding.
So, when tomorrow comes, or the next time you feel you need to be in charge enough that you have to worry about the future--give it a rest. Give yourself a rest. "Come unto me, all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest" (Matthew 11:28).
Have a fine day.
I decided today to try something a little different.
Every time I felt concern about what needed to happen during the day or days to come or days in the past, I reminded myself of God's words to us in Matthew 6:34: "Then have no care for tomorrow: tomorrow will take care of itself. Take the trouble of the day as it comes."
So, I went about my business. I went and taught a class at the community college and it went fine. I came home, had a bit of lunch, called my mom and chatted a bit--all was well. I then cut, fixed, and had a nice visit with a nice client in my little beauty shop--very enjoyable. I got my husband ready for work, we had a nice visit before we wished each other a good evening--always a joy to spend time with the Mister. I went to the garden, picked some lovely greens, fixed a nice salad for supper--a delight. The remainder of the evening I wrote--a productive time.
I figured something out: I didn't need to worry about tomorrow--frankly, I have no idea what it will bring since I'm not in charge, thank the good Lord. I do know I'm in good hands no matter what.
I also figured out something else: There was no need to fume or worry today. All was well with the world. Did I make a million dollars? No. Do I need a million dollars? No. God provides. Did I set the world on fire? I don't believe I did. Did I do a tiny bit of good? I think so--I wrote cards to shut-ins on behalf of our church family. A small gesture, but it feels good doing God's bidding.
So, when tomorrow comes, or the next time you feel you need to be in charge enough that you have to worry about the future--give it a rest. Give yourself a rest. "Come unto me, all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest" (Matthew 11:28).
Have a fine day.
Thursday, September 8, 2011
The Largess of the Tiny
A day off from teaching and taking classes normally finds me, weather permitting, on the deck out back with a cup or three of coffee. This morning was one of those perfect pre-fall days--breezy enough to use it as an excuse to bring a blanket out along to snuggle in an over-sized lawnchair while reading, writing, and watching the aerial antics of the beloved hummingbirds.
Small creatures, they bring a largess of enjoyment.
I look up at the feeder periodically to see two quietly sitting; instantaneously, the duo rises to three, four, five, six...as many as twelve, darting and shifting, snatching a few seconds at the small bars to have a sip of nectar. Pairs entwine themselves in a circular flight up in the air, and then dramatically dive back down to recover from the tailspin at the last possible second. Others start a pattern of flying in a large "u" shape repeatedly, twittering each time they reach the upper peaks of the formation.
One small female in particular flies over within a foot of me periodically and hovers for a bit; I acknowledge her presence with a hello. I have a feeling she's drawn to my "comforter of many of colors" as much as she is my personality. Nevertheless, she returns much as a small child does having a ball gaining recognition from an adult, running back and forth and happily anticipating that next hello.
As I sit on the deck, I hear in the immediate background the familiar sounds of a combine, a tractor, and a grain cart being shuffled about in preparation to open a field for harvest. There's a slight sense of resignation that accompanies these sounds; I know that harvest means fall, and though a wondrous time of the year in southern Indiana, it marks the beginning of some endings--among them the realization sometime in the near future when I am sitting on the deck with no company of these tiny marvelous birds. They'll be on that mind-boggling flight across great bodies of water to a warmer clime.
But that's not today; no, today they are fascinating. So, like these tiny creatures that bring with them a largess of joy, living for the moment of that next pirouette or sip of lovely nectar, I'm going to live in the moment and not miss out on any opportunities or discoveries today has to offer.
I hope you will enjoy the day, too.
Have a fine day indeed.
Small creatures, they bring a largess of enjoyment.
I look up at the feeder periodically to see two quietly sitting; instantaneously, the duo rises to three, four, five, six...as many as twelve, darting and shifting, snatching a few seconds at the small bars to have a sip of nectar. Pairs entwine themselves in a circular flight up in the air, and then dramatically dive back down to recover from the tailspin at the last possible second. Others start a pattern of flying in a large "u" shape repeatedly, twittering each time they reach the upper peaks of the formation.
One small female in particular flies over within a foot of me periodically and hovers for a bit; I acknowledge her presence with a hello. I have a feeling she's drawn to my "comforter of many of colors" as much as she is my personality. Nevertheless, she returns much as a small child does having a ball gaining recognition from an adult, running back and forth and happily anticipating that next hello.
As I sit on the deck, I hear in the immediate background the familiar sounds of a combine, a tractor, and a grain cart being shuffled about in preparation to open a field for harvest. There's a slight sense of resignation that accompanies these sounds; I know that harvest means fall, and though a wondrous time of the year in southern Indiana, it marks the beginning of some endings--among them the realization sometime in the near future when I am sitting on the deck with no company of these tiny marvelous birds. They'll be on that mind-boggling flight across great bodies of water to a warmer clime.
But that's not today; no, today they are fascinating. So, like these tiny creatures that bring with them a largess of joy, living for the moment of that next pirouette or sip of lovely nectar, I'm going to live in the moment and not miss out on any opportunities or discoveries today has to offer.
I hope you will enjoy the day, too.
Have a fine day indeed.
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