agnestirrito

"Whatever you think you can do, or believe you can do, begin it, because action has magic, grace, and power in it." Goethe


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Friday’s Five

Watching my granddaughters step on a bathroom scale and saying to them:

Look at that perfect number and meaning it for always.

Telling them as we begin already talking about Santa that I can’t wait to tell him all the good things you do every day. We are creating a positive list here. I bet it fills a book.

Sharing a Lemon Chill with two toddlers as we sit on the kitchen floor. One spoon.

Hearing I love you for having a cardboard box available as a play house. Simple, people. Simple joys.

Red paint. It is a necessity. And it washes off.

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Sunday’s Song: Seven

Seven good things from the past few days:

a grandchild’s birthday

an art journaling workshop

a Don Williams song I’d never heard before

a solitary walk on a rainy day

a hug from an old friend

a found poem

a cardinal returning


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Friday’s Five

Unexpected rain, needed in East Texas.

Sleeping babies, and those rare simultaneous naps.

Creative friends; some new projects shared and started.

Flea markets, and the fun of the search.

Knowing the alarm does not have to be set for two days.

~~~~~5 little happinesses. What made your week shine? Just name five little things…


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Sunday’s Song: Scrambled Eggs

The strangest things bring me happiness these days. Today, standing in front of a new range ranks pretty high.

My old one sparked and smoked and sent itself packing several weeks ago. Since then, a three foot space has been waiting in my tiny kitchen.

My grandchildren have explored that space and questioned how we would make bacon.

It’s ok. We can use the microwave.

They seem skeptical. I’ve since proven this as truth, but I know they’ll be delighted to see a stove tomorrow. Really delighted. Little teachers that they are. (And yes, pan fried bacon is much better.)

This gaping space…I smiled at where the real wood floors ended and subfloor extended to the wall after a renovation a few years back. We had oak flooring from my parents’ house…hundred year old oak… and just enough to cover the main “this part will show” floors of this area.

This floor has soon a lot of traffic and will likely see a parade of appliances in years to come because nothing lasts as long as it should. But I digress.

~~

I don’t think I’ve ever waited quite this long to replace an appliance, but I was heading on vacation, then waiting for a sale, then other “fix this nows” competed, then life got busy as it does. Anyway.

I really missed scrambled eggs.

I missed my scrambled eggs because eggs are one food that I really don’t care to eat anywhere else. They never have the same taste or texture or consistency at a restaurant. They are never hot enough.

It’s odd because even though I missed making them, they are not my favorite food. They are quick to make, a good source of nourishment, but I was surprised to discover this was one of the main foods I needed a stovetop to cook, and one of the main foods I kept craving. Microwave eggs? I don’t even want to consider it.

Look. Turn on the burner. Heat a tiny bit of real butter just until it melts. Crack a couple of eggs. Stir them right in. Faster. A minute or so later, perfect breakfast. Salt. Cracked pepper. Satisfying. Hot. Done.

Anyway.

I scrambled and ate those eggs and now give them a place here as a reminder how little things can be satisfying. How we miss them when we don’t have them. How good it is to appreciate a small thing.

How Sundays and scrambled eggs are kinda nice.


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Friday’s Five

Re-establishing this weekly practice of listing…

Five good things from the past few days:

Watching my granddaughters delight in throwing rocks into our creek.

Bundling my grandmother’s heirloom roses onto silk scarves to see if I’ll get a print or dye.

Laughing as a child I tutor tries on my glasses.

Copying a poem a day into my little altered art book.

Opening the mailbox to find packages and letters from loved ones near and far.

Simple things that bring happiness. Truly, if we cannot be happy in our own self we cannot bring it to anyone else.

What makes you happy? I’d love to know…


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Sunday’s Song: Suffice it to Say…Palm Sunday in Taos

I am at one of those places where I have so much to say, but I cannot say it all today. The specifics have to arrange themselves in the shape they want to be, but I am honoring the commitment I made to blog each Sunday of Lent. So, here I am on sketchy WiFi, typing on my phone, my dear friend Care across from me in a lodge room at the Mabel Dodge Luhan House.

I read over my journal entry from yesterday morning. Start today’s entry. Wonder how on earth a day can hold so much. Today held so much. It is one of those times you think How could all of this happen in one day? Abundance. Total abundance.

I am spending this Holy Week in Taos. It is a marker of time that keeps ticking…keeps saying yeah this is the week you were supposed to be in this place at this time.

If I told you everything so far, you might not believe me. Or you might think I’m a bit crazy. Or you might be glad. Choose glad.

The people in my path have been from every end of the pendulum. A wide arc. We are not all kindreds here…believers and unbelievers and all in between abound…but I have decided sometimes we need the disparity to recognize how much good there is. Or how far we might have to go. How much we still have to do. How much one’s presence matters in this world for so many reasons.

Today I saw parishioners process around a town square, people waving palm branches, singing, marking a moment. I saw a policeman far far down the square holding a palm branch. Waving it. And then a child, an armful of branches at the edge of the crowd bringing us lucky bystanders palms. He was in the frame of my lens and a second later his sweet voice Here. Just that.

Here. As in take it, Woman. Or as in the message be here, present right now. Or as in I see you. Or as in you need this.

Later, I see a family walking. The man (son/brother/father?) had his back pocket filled with palms. He was probably the designated carrier for the family. Maybe they were all out for lunch like we were, enjoying the New Mexico sunshine on a crisp bright day. Maybe they were filled with hope. Something about that pocketful of palms. Something that said see this.

I am seeing a lot these days. Knowing every image is leading me to a place I cannot quite see but know it’s worth walking toward…but remembering to worship the moment I am in. The deep moment of place and time…and suffice it to say I am grateful.

I am watching. Listening.

Here.


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Sunday’s Song: A Sentence and a Step

Week 5 of Lent. Easter is not far away, and my Lenten promises have pretty much gone by the wayside. But… a sweet surprise came along and helped me see that when we strive to follow a better path, things do indeed work out, and sometimes we don’t have to follow through on this plan or that goal…we just have to be the real me or you and walk on.

I met a new friend this week, one who knows me from what she saw me post on social media. We were at a mutual friend’s party and were introduced there. You may not remember this but you defended your religion awhile back. She went on to say what I’d written and the one part that stood out for her: You ended with Peace be with you and I thought wow. Yes. That.

Turns out this new friend has a Catholic upbringing. Thinks about coming back. Attends Mass when she’s visiting her mom.

She is also a cancer warrior, and has just spent several months recovering from treatments.

She’s seen a lot, been through a lot. Walked some dark roads like others have. Is still working things out. Thinking things through.

But she stood there and talked to me about one little sentence I posted months ago…maybe even a year or more ago. And she remembered that. Not because of the theology. Because of the grace. The kindness. The “no matter what you think, I hope you find peace on your way” which is how I strive to live.

Look, you cannot change people. You cannot force anyone to do this or be that, but you can wish them well. And mean it.

And while I am not the best Catholic in a lot of ways, that day she saw me as one who brought her a step closer to coming back to church. So, I am grateful to know. I am grateful to see a God who works through every person in every way…simple people like me and simple things like comments on a public post.

Grateful because I ask God routinely to help me lead others to Him…and to look for Him in them.

And this week, He said yes to all of that. And that meeting, that reminder, beats any list of things I could hope to do. So, keep on living your best day to day, not just during Lent, but any day. And God will use you if you ask Him to…and likely even if you don’t.