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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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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Friday’s Five: Moments of Being

I am posting early today, before the day gets away from me. Days get away from me lately. I can’t always do all I hope to do…but isn’t there a grace in that? Isn’t it good to have something else on the horizon? I say yes.

Moments, lately. That’s what I’m grateful for today. 

Sitting in those wonderful massage chairs at a local nail salon with my daughter. I have bright blue toenails for spring. Her fingernails shimmer pink. We were not rushed. We took part in the ritual of self care. 

Late night “in labor” texts from my dear friend Autumn. She’s a mommy again and I got to hold both of her sweet children yesterday. Born fourteen months apart, she’s going to be caught up in a blissful blur of baby busy for a few years. It sure was nice to sit beside her on her bed and hold her newest arrival. Marveling at his tiny fingers. A head full of black hair. He slept peacefully in my arms as I thought of future grandchildren I may be blessed to hold. 

My college students. I love them. I sat beside several of them last night, editing their papers and encouraging their progress. We’ve built another supportive in-class community during those Thursday night sessions. I’m always thankful for the moment   I realize  it has come to pass once again: we care about one another’s efforts. It is a beautiful thing that no test can measure.

A weekly hour apart from the world. I get to spend an hour in prayer at my church’s adoration chapel every Wednesday. There is nothing that matches the peace and understanding that comes from that hour apart with God. It’s like re-meeting an old friend every time. I highly recommend personal, dedicated prayer time, regardless of your religion. You might be surprised how your time multiplies when you make time for what matters.

The cardboard sign the guy had trailing from his backpack at the corner of Richmond this week. A black sharpie scrawl proclaimed YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL. Those three unexpected words stayed with me. I hope  they stay with you, too.

Here’s to many good moments of being for you all. Blessings…


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Sunday’s Song: Expectation

A friend is expecting a baby. The reveal party is this week. I’m excited for her, ready to know for sure whether it’s the girl I think it is…whether I can go ahead and buy pink yarns and sweet fabrics that whisper girl baby.
It’s a happy time for my friend, and I’m glad I know her right now. I’m glad I can share in her joy, keeping busy with needle and thread while I’m doing a different kind of expecting.
I’m expecting job news soon. That used to be more important than it is today.
I know that no matter where I work next year, I’ll be fine. It’s nice to have experience enough to know your work world will spin without you worrying about it.
The more important news is medical. I’m not alone in my waiting; many relatives and friends are expecting test results this week, or appointments, or answers.
I’ve decided to expect the best for my loved one and for all my waiting friends. I’m waiting on good news.
I know it may not come the way I expect it…but it will come.
Better days are always coming.
I expect to cope, to pray, to remember what matters.
I expect to live this day and each that follows in hope.
Planning ahead ensures success.

Meanwhile, I’m planning to wear a bright pink jacket to Marissa’s baby reveal party this week. I smile thinking of little girl names and ribbons and bows.
And, if I’m wrong? Blue is a beautiful color, too.