Something New Every Day

            Poor cell phone reception caused me to step out my back door this morning.  As I made my call, I heard a low drone as loud as a locust just over my head.  What kind of huge insect was threatening to dive bomb me?  I ducked and looked around.  Then I saw it:  a hummingbird.  I’ve never been close enough to a hummingbird to know what a racket those high-speed wings raise.

            Mom de-headed some huge store-bought strawberries.  When she was through, she commented on her task:  “They sure put pretty blossoms on those strawberries.   Probably to make them look and sell better.  I remember doing that with my strawberries.”

            Oh, and earlier this morning Mom reported that Orie (our house cat) was standing in his water dish.

            So, already today, I’ve learned something new about hummingbirds, puzzled over how you put blossoms on strawberries, and wondered what standing in a water dish means.  If I ever figure it all out, I’ll be sure to let you know.

Humble Pie

            I’m glad I went.

            Turns out I had a lot to learn.  I want my heart and my thinking to line up with Christ.  Authenticity is very important to me.  When my heart or my opinions run counter to God’s Word, I want to be open to His correction. 

            So I went to listen.  I’ve already felt embarrassed by my noisy proclamation via blog about Amendment 10-A.  At least it was written from the heart, but I felt uneasy enough about it to delete it after a few days.  As I listened to our pastor lead last night’s discussion of fidelity and chastity, I heard my arguments gently but firmly countered.  I recognized the mark of truth spoken in love. 

            Toward the end, the word “conversation” became the opening for me to confess my change of heart.  I felt relief and the confirmation of the Spirit.  Eating humble pie really is not that bad, especially when it’s followed by a homemade brownie.

Spring Forest

My writing time was waiting for me to take it: a morning spent in an attempt to capture the beauty of a tree.

With spring, firs

receive French tips:

bright growth

outlines winter evergreen.  

The tree I watch at breakfast—

the one with perfectly manicured needles swaying with breezes,

its fingers lightly dancing

over invisible ivories —

That tree’s green

has overgrown its feathered edges.

Gone the graceful, crowned fingers

lingering over some sonata of the sky.

Instead, a dark hillock,

bright sides falling away like wet clumped sand,

mottled blend on artist’s palette,

rich, thick oils built up and spilling over:

Spring against Forest.

Boughs hang heavily,

glory greens dip and sway:

lush touch of heaven.

Oh Where, Oh Where

Oh where, oh where has my writing life gone?

Oh where, oh where can it be?

With its time cut short and its block cut long

Oh where, oh where can it be?

Life in this Moment

            Mom loves to go on rides, so this morning when I reminded her that we are going to Costco today, her face lit up.  She said something like this:  “That’s the thing about not having a memory . . . what a pleasant surprise!”

            When I get frustrated with the endless repetition that is part and parcel of her Alzheimer’s, I am going to remember what she said.  Maybe then I, too, can remember the perpetual wonder of every day and substitute impatience with praise to God for the gift of life in this moment.

Clean Floors

            It’s amazing what a difference clean floors make.

            I am thinking about how good it felt to come home this week to clean floors and a clean bathroom.  Finally, I have hired someone to help me with housework.  She does a great job.

            I can sweep occasionally, but mopping and vacuuming are not worth the physical repercussions. 

            With amazement I watched what my daughter and son-in-law can do in a single morning.  A week ago today while Dana cleaned house and Shawn did yard work, I took my grandson Benjamin on a walk in his stroller.  The day before I sat on the floor with him while Dana scrubbed away at the toy chest she had picked up at a yard sale.  I spend a lot of floor time at their house, so I appreciate their clean floors, too.

            Back home on Whidbey, today I have worked at my computer, practiced my flute, done a load of laundry, tidied the kitchen, made lunch, taken a nap, gone on a short walk and then enjoyed a long talk with a friend, picked up a few groceries, and now am contemplating the leftovers I will throw together for dinner.  I’m bushed. 

            The minute I sat down to wax eloquently on the subject of clean floors, though, our elderly house cat made a deposit in the hallway.