How autocorrect attempts to correct the word snaggle
It is not snuggle, although I’m thankful for that as well
How one grandchild solemnly said Thank you, Mother Earth after collecting empty bean pods from the ground to use in her play…and how her sisters chimed in, Mother Earth echoing in the world they create here, away from the “other world” so close by
and this leads me to remember the young ones who used God as She and Her and how sooner or later we are all corrected—all along the way—when maybe in fact we really do know and like auto-correct, we sigh and roll our eyes and continue…
How everything does not have to be corrected
And this reminds me of my current textile exploration/practices where mistakes are welcome and the only rule is leave them in
and it makes sense to me
and I celebrate the knowing of all that does not have to be perfect or understood
…
and the moon is full and the jonquils are giving us new iterations daily
And somewhere someone thinks of us as we think of them
and
some among us are suffering and struggling and trying to continue and in that place, those days, we have an opportunity to provide welcome and blessed peace.
I hope you are able to recognize the need before you this week, and offer a simple smile. May you be well. May all be well.
Three years ago the landscape here was much different…18” of snow and frigid days tested these beauties…but they are slowly returning. Patience ✅
A precious grandson arrived during those days, too, and he was celebrated again this weekend. Birthday hugs and “kisses to grow on”✅
And while we expect high 70s this week, we did have a brief flurry on the radar after dark this weekend—little surprises to make us smile ✅
The Lenten book from my sister and some quiet time to read and reflect✅
Needles and threads and returning to stitch practices ✅
Finally, some good words from Joseph Campbell:
“You must have a place to which you can go in your heart, your mind, or your house, almost every day, where you do not owe anyone and where no one owes you – a place that simply allows for the blossoming of something new and promising.”✅
Hello readers, and welcome to February. We get a bonus day this month. I haven’t decided what I’ll do with it yet, have you?
The week was fast and eventful. Grandkids swinging, testing out puddles, throwing rocks and noticing all the minute details of the natural world.
The eldest pumped her arm at the end of our country road as a truck driver passed by, and he rewarded her with air horn honks…and in that moment, I was transported to the same driveway many decades ago, being rewarded the same way. Little lights. Little efforts…
We have rock candy experiments “growing” in jars on my kitchen countertop. Little ones have to wait for a week to see the results. The smallest efforts, once again…
Garden center jonquils made their way to my arms this week…and
my daughter texted me a pic of one of my fave places : the Charles Bridge in Prague. Night scene. Lights on water. In that moment, transported to a past as well as future (hopefully) time. All the ways we get to be connected through space and time and memory and effort and kindnesses…
beauty…
Plastic baby Jesus has come out of storage, and has been coddled, sung to, and wrapped up these past few days. He’s really an outdoor manger piece, but these kids treat him like the real deal…
The geese are back. The birds are feeding this morning and filled with song…
Talismans. Those memory laden items or even attitudes we carry to sustain us during trying times. The week gave me a few trying moments, but was punctuated with high notes—much more good than trying. The sense of self we carry really does matter.
I noticed a lot this week. At a community meeting, a woman leader was summarizing content and asking questions, but at one point referred to herself as “stupid”…and my antenna went on high alert. People of the world, women of the world: we do not refer to ourselves as stupid. We may be learning, we may be relearning, we may be unsure; we are not, however, stupid.
I digress, I see. 😄
A former GED student came by “just to drop in” on his way to a college comp class. Those moments of realization: knowing you helped make a difference for someone…but also knowing no one succeeds alone. ✅
The week also gave me a watercolor workshop and time with old and new friends. And later today, some special young adults have arranged their schedules to keep up a tradition we established years ago. 🔔
Some good words to end (or start, I guess 😉) the week:
“The last of human freedoms – the ability to choose one’s attitude in a given set of circumstances.”~~Viktor E. Frankl 🌟🌟🌟
Looking for the first jonquils…it’s time. My phone’s record of memories shows there was a year when they’d be prolific by now. 11 years ago—abundance. I’m looking for just the first one. It will be enough. ✅ I’ll post the field from that long ago time, though, as a reminder to notice the beauty when it is presented…it can be fleeting.
Fleeting blooms 2013
Kid art ✅
Poetry sketching with a new group of students ✅
New routines adopted ✅
Good words—this week, from Michael J. Fox:
“And if you don’t think you have anything to be grateful for, keep looking. Because you don’t just receive optimism. You can’t wait for things to be great and then be grateful for that. You’ve got to behave in a way that promotes that.” ✅
Farewell, January. You gave me some good people, beautiful moments, necessary reminders. ✌️
I know it’s not really Sunday or the 21st, but here I am bringing seven good moments from last week, and maybe the day-date isn’t that big of a deal. 😉
Birdfeeders. Aren’t they glorious inventions ? The backyard was busy all week with eager visitors, and it was lovely to sit and watch. I had picked up an extra bag of seed before our little winter event that ended up being mostly sleet, and the birds were grateful. ✅
Parchment paper that one bakes bacon upon. Or slides cookies off of. ✅
Little handwritten notes on their way to people near and far. I know postage is going up again, but I still think finding real mail in one’s box is a lovely gift. Holding out hope more of us make a return to the writing of the letter. ✅
Stillness—I know being at home for several days might sound like punishment for some, but I adjusted to waking to no alarm, checking on the animals, feeding the fire. One of the days—lost track now of which—I read most of the day away. Little luxuries/no regrets. ✅
Speaking of reading… A Book of Luminous Things, edited by Czeslaw Milosz (his introduction and collection of selected poems make this a keeper of a book)…easy and accessible to dip in and out of. If you like poetry, I highly recommend this one.✅
Glass jars of my homemade vegetable soup in the fridge which brought my Aunt Mary to mind…and how she would bring jars of vegetable soup to her sister, and we would all enjoy it so much. Traditions/rituals/the carrying on of good simple acts. ✅
Waterproof boots—because the ice is gone, but rains have arrived. ✅
A quotation from a quick search on Pinterest starts tonight’s weekly seven good things.
Contentment ❄️
We are in the process of flurries as I write tonight; the day has been spent mostly looking out of windows, keeping tabs on friends far and near. Checking thermostats and dripping faucets. Eating probably too many snacks. Letting the day slide by without too much grief over things left undone. Tomorrow is a new day, and we might wake to measurable snow on the ground.
The week sped by; new responsibilities appeared at work, and weather forecasts changed the routine…preparations turned into “hurry up and wait” for those elusive snowflakes to appear.
Small goodnesses appeared…camelias near the front porch that haven’t bloomed decided this is the year. An amaryllis is also gearing up to show out. Winter is their time.
Special mail arrived from long time friends, and I marvel at the ways we get to stay connected through the years.
Children have been here, and four distinct personalities brought lots of joy and laughter. Small permissions were granted, big love was shared. I’ll always be glad for the lessons and life children bring.
I’ve cooked quite a bit this weekend, and I offer thanks to all those who came before me who taught me how, who shared their tips, their recipes, their happiness in the kitchen. We learn best from happy people, I do believe.
The stack of books continues to grow…and there is time carved out to read. That is also a gift of the new year.
A sweet dog is content sleeping in the kitchen. She actually loves the colder weather, but during these frigid “feels like” temps, I coax her inside. She’ll sleep soundly and be ready to conquer the cold at daybreak. And I’ll try to keep up. ☺️
I think that’s a lot more than seven, so I’ll sign off for now. I hope you can be content in the in between times and find days or hours of rest and restoration. ✌️
This year, I hope to continue posting seven small (and big) things from recent days that I’m grateful for, but in addition to that, I’m planning to add a line or quote or verse from some current read.
This week’s choice has been in my stacks for years and includes many rich poems, but today I choose “Return”…maybe because a new year is similar to a re-entry after a vacation. Maybe we have been celebrating. Maybe now we have to come down. Maybe the poem has nothing to do with that. I’ll post it and maybe you’ll give it a read:
Return by Naomi Shihab Nye
Build my home here
On the spot of old time.
I’m sure I have failed you
One thousand ways,
You ancient clock,
You stockpot of moments.
Look how the first thing I do
Upon entering the house
Is remove my watch
It’s in your honor.
Fuel by Naomi Nye
So, poems. Other goodnesses lately:
Chex mix aka “trash” in these parts —delectable, savory, spicy treat.
Homemade pound cake —all the holiday food remnants beckoning for a few more tastes
Jon Batiste —musical genius
Camelias, winterberries, holly—all the winter bloomers
Forecasts for snow—still brings a smile
and those long airport hugs and kisses that have to last awhile—-grateful for daughter time this season.
Be kind to yourself this year, wherever you find yourself on 2024’s map.
I adopted a new artist word for the year: capacity. For me, it means paying attention to all I need and want, and all I hope to (and have to) let go. 🙌🏼🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟✨
Here we are at Christmas Eve. If there is a better day in the year, I am not aware. So much preparation and possibility and power unfolding throughout the hours…
…and then finally, a moment when we call it ready. Maybe a few quiet moments with only tree lights and carols before daybreak.
We are at the fourth Sunday of Advent, and it’s rather odd to me that it falls on Christmas Eve this year. Then again, time expands for us to make room for what is needed.
I hope those of you who celebrate have moments to contemplate the many gifts in our midst. Seven here easily come to mind:
Family
Children singing Silent Night
Candlelight
Fresh cut greenery and berries in vases
Messages and messengers
That sweet collection of cards on the mantle
Traditions
Every year, I’m grateful to experience this season. This year is no exception. Regardless of circumstances and the reality of the world, here we are. Let us bring light.
A blog reaching out to victims of abuse and others in need, providing insight about abuse, hope for the future, and guidance to see THE LIGHT that lead Secret Angel out of the darkness of her own abusive situation and helped her to not only survive but to overcome.
agnestirrito 