I saw geese mamas ushering their new broods to the water on a walk break this week—which led me to remember how many good and wondrous things happen just out of sight a lot of days…
like the driveway feather waiting for me to find…
Nature’s Gift
…the way our world smells after a clearing rain and the child who reminded me of that…
…how rain led to some happy mud puddles but also some necessary clean outs
and progress in increments or big versions still counts as win here.
Take out pizza because 🍕is gift, actually,
in so many ways, and eating it for breakfast is evidence of plenty/leftovers/choice…
…and we are already at the end of April and this list, so I choose this poem to share as we go on about our busy days:
Solo goose the last few days…so Mama is likely on her nest just out of sight…
Wisteria appeared in its purple glory, cascading like clusters of grapes among telephone poles and adding a shot of color to still winter shrubs…
Dandelions have come, too, and while some of you likely hate them, Sofia christened them wish sticks and we are happy happy to see we have plenty of chances…
I was able to participate in two granddaughters’ school event this week, and I’m always glad to see happy children, beautiful classrooms, and a whole host of people…ones who come to witness and celebrate handprints and seedlings and book fairs…
Speaking of celebrations, a dear writing friend received good news and will have one of her poems published this summer. When that happens and with her permission, I will post it here. How truly good to see someone following the call to write and earning deserved recognition. Good news lifts us all. May we have more of it…
Blackwing pencils…one came to me from the friend mentioned above and reminded me how the little things really are not little at all…
Well, let’s see. One more thing—-how about some lines from the nature loving poet Mary Oliver to send us paying attention into the new week:
This, from her book Upstream:
“Teach the children…stand them in the stream…rejoice as they learn to love this green space they live in, its sticks and leaves and then the silent, beautiful blossoms. Attention is the beginning of devotion.”
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. ✅
Someone on Third Street has holiday lights glowing on their small and simple clapboard house. Just the window. A perfectly imperfect string or two of multicolored lights that invite us to breathe a bit easier, to see that even though the rest of the street is dark, this house is not. This house says I’m trying. I look for those lights each season…they will never know this. I wonder who is in charge of it: the decision-the effort-the untangling-testing of bulbs-how to secure-what will the electricity bill be-are they for a child-a memory-a continued tradition? I will never know. But as I made the early dark trek home… somehow those multicolored lights remind me as they often do, of simple efforts to try to make our spot a little better and brighter than it actually is. And it transfers to us.
We need that light. I know I do.
So, in praise of light and extension cords, and double a and triple a batteries.
For candles with real wicks and simple flames.
For messy abundance and effort. For being able to act.
I know sometimes these lists and stories are kind of like those lights. They are not ordered and they don’t always connect well and maybe they leave you wondering.
It’s ok.
Our efforts don’t have to be perfect. They are passing. Notice what you do and your intention. Notice the gifts of others.
There were many lights in this busy week:
Children took charge of a box of decorations and arranged things in ways I hadn’t considered. Better ways. With energy and immediacy and joy.
There was impromptu singing. Gift making.
There were hugs.
Some people gave me a free pass for being a tired human.
Someone sat at an art event with me and saw in my art what I hoped would be seen.
My violets are blooming in the side window, and I wonder how many days they’ve been hoping I’d glance long enough to see.
Chicken gumbo is simmering, and the house smells like celery-peppers-onions.
The trees are at a stage that is fleeting—-when I turn down my driveway, I drive slow these days…to remember those colors.
For a brief few minutes each morning, white tree lights in another room reflect onto a side window, and I take in that view before the day begins.
I’m still learning to keep it all with me in the moment. Somewhere on Third Street, a driver is passing a small house. I hope they slow down to see.
My eldest grandchild left her Color reminder taped to our sunporch-art porch wall, and I did not see it until early this morning. Little lights people leave for us as they journey on…
…another GC reminded me to please take care of her works in progress. I will. So much more in those words than non- creatives might hear—I’m returning. I like what I was doing. Protect it for me. I had fun.
Witnessing is a big part of life—I’m pretty sure Bradbury said “Witness and celebrate”—and I am. Those around me are, too. Spider webs in many trees and quick lizards playing hide-and-seek in patio rafters and rocks to be claimed and puddles to jump in were here and noticed as we say farewell to October. A two sides carved pumpkin will be in transit to its artists’ home later. And that is its own simple story for today:
I planned to carve with children, but time got away as it does. Then I recalled an October decades ago when my mom was away. My new husband and I came to check on her place, and at some point I realized he’d never carved a pumpkin before. As an elementary teacher at the time, I carved them yearly with my students. Anyway, we had a little memory making that day and my mom was welcomed home with a grinning Jack-o-lantern on her porch steps. Fast forward to other Octobers, and my husband carved many pumpkins with our kids. And, he carved a final one for us his last year here. Today, I laughed as I used his hunting knife to carve our latest rendition. He would not approve of this use I’m quite sure…then again, it’s for our grandkids, so I’d likely get a free pass. I bet some little kids smile tonight when they see their pumpkin friend on their own porch…and the little things keep unspooling through the years. Because the little things often cost almost nothing. And they become part of our being. Kids remember far more of what we do than what we spend. 🎃
On the pumpkin theme, my young friend Mirren made a glorious pumpkin fairy house and her mom texted me a pic. All of us creatives hanging on in spite of distance and circumstances. 🥰🌟
So many good things to list this week, but the latest one involves another “little thing- big thing”—my sister and her husband are traveling abroad, and my daughter is there to welcome them and show them the sights. My sis has been sending me pictures, and knowing the happiness we can give by simply honoring another for good…well, gift.
Of course, we don’t have to be travelers to find joy. It’s right next door, down the street, in the next aisle over. In our own homes. Witnessing. Celebrating. Honoring what another might need. Don’t let the magic in front of you get away.
National Day on Writing—a student exploring solitude
Hello, dear reader,
The last seven days gave me some good gifts…
I celebrated the National Day on Writing with a class of high schoolers on the college campus. Visiting a park across the street to spend a few minutes of solitary writing time worked its magic on a few of them. So, I celebrate the truth that sometimes pushing through and doing the harder things is worth the effort. We cannot make someone see something they are not ready to see or enjoy writing or the arts or nature…or anything. But, we can open a door. Offer an invitation. Create a space for light…
Grocery store pumpkins. The price is right and some little ones were happy. Maybe roasted pumpkin seeds and a carving are in the cards by next weekend…
Yellow butterflies seem to have taken the place of hummingbirds for now. Beauty in all its iterations…
FaceTime with a granddaughter this week…
Boarded, Landed, and other travel messages an adult son sent without me asking— maturity and all the simple ways we can show respect and care to others…
The hibernating (AKA lost) teddy bear was uncovered this week—one we thought was surely gone has returned, delighting a little girl…
Calendar countdowns—I’m entering my favorite time of year now…glad to witness it once again.
Happy week, friends. Be good to yourselves and look for the little things to celebrate. 🌟
The calendar says fall. TX says where… but maybe by week’s end we’ll get a not 90 day. One must hope. Forecast says likely. 🙌🏼
Leaves have not been up to their usual autumn magic, but there are signs of trying.
Beginner
The garden spiders are busy and a few littles have joined in the naming: Sally and Izzy are still daily regulars, but Sunny Star Scout (fave name 🤩) must be otherwise occupied …we expect her return any day. 🕷️ I know all are not spider lovers, but these are my returners. Sally always sets up on the side of the garage. Izzy chose the dog food bin this year, but she waves a happy leg at me each morning as I gently get Ada’s breakfast without disturbing her glorious weaving. We seem to understand one another.
Sally
The days aren’t fall cool, but outside is bearable, so that’s the win. Little girls were joyful with jump ropes and sidewalk chalk and swings and driveway races. That’s good. ✅
Little boy wearing a cowboy hat greeted me at his house with “ampoline ampoline!” on his busy way to the swing and see saw and trampoline…then sat happily in the backyard dirt and sifted through his goldmine …stopping multiple times to bring me treasures. A child who notices. 🫶
Gifts from a 2 year old 🍂
I hung the pumpkin front door decoration, and as is my custom, also plugged in the white lights on my beginning tree—this year it will live on the sunporch where it’s already bringing us moments of joy. We have decided it will be our art tree. I’m looking forward to how it transforms by December. So much to be said for creating spaces that we enjoy. The days are busy. White lights in the early morning and late evening are luxury. 🌟
Beginning tree 🌟
Little things. Passing moments. Noises and silences and all the gifts those hold.
May your week be filled with treasures you are able to notice. ✌️
I really didn’t expect to see a swarm of bees this week. As a matter of fact, I was stealthily stalking a monarch under this same tree a few minutes before this encounter. I guess there’s a lot to be said about the unexpected, the beautiful, the amazing parts of life. Glad to note that bees are doing fine in my front yard and have kept a home here for years. This week, these “new” bees added a home to a new branch…at least for awhile.
New home for new swarm
I’ve mentioned the butterflies. There are many: Monarchs and others, always a happy sight to see. I’m glad I will still stop to photograph them…or try to…as they dance from stop to stop. 🦋
The week also gave me a long distance birthday celebration with my daughter. 🥳
Some good art news.👩🏻🎨🎨🎨🎨
Time with my son and his beautiful children. 🤩
I listened to grandchildren read and pretend read. One told me she was glad I was born—random comment that comes so naturally to her, but that echoed through my days this week. ❤️ Our words do have power, right?
Yet another Earth Angel (aka cousin) accompanied me to an appointment so that I would be less anxious. I think presence is a powerful drug. If you know, you know. 🌟
A long time friend and her daughter met me for lunch and we caught up for awhile over pizza. They have a vastly different life from mine and move a lot, so it was special to share time with them. 🌟🌟
A good week. A lot of blessings to count and see and hear. I wish you the same. ❤️✌️🌟
February is making her exit in a couple of days, and I really don’t know what to think about that. Time and its shapeshifting ways…always speeding or crawling or surprising us in some form.
I ended last week’s post with a prayer request, and that friend transitioned on soon after. Today, a coworker from a “past-life job” makes a similar journey. All this leaving by those known to me for years has me in a reflective mood, I guess.
I mean, we all know we are exiting at some point, but we usually play amnesiac about it. I really don’t know why we do that, and I really don’t know why we shouldn’t. Anyway, I went to visit this former colleague, and she gave me a message I thought I’d write about tonight.
I could describe the well kept house, the abundance of vehicles parked in the driveway, the ruts some of those vehicles were making in the grassy areas near the yard. I could say a doorbell wasn’t needed, a gracious crew welcomed me, that this person recognized me and recalled a funny story.
I could tell you the color and pattern of the bedspread, the blue plastic vomit bag nearby, the surprising toll a disease can take…and fast.
I could tell you how this woman still managed a smile, thanked me, shared a story about one of my dear ones.
She told one of her daughters standing nearby, Remember now, this isspecial as her fingers stroked the lacy fabric of a hand knit comfort shawl I’d brought as a last minute thought. We both know she won’t have use for it very long, but it matters right now. It brings comfort and calm right now. And now is what we have.
As she became more uncomfortable and nauseated, I decided to cut the visit short. We knew it was going to be the last moment for us, the last interaction. I held her hand, kissed her face, thanked her for the gift of her welcome during this highly private time. Realized once again the most basic interactions hold the most power, hold the most importance.
Well, people ask what they can do and offer all kinds of things. All I really want is prayers and love for me and my family. I know this is not the end. I’m just moving for awhile. I want my family to be ok.
The phrase “love and prayers” gets a bad rap these days, but only when it is used as surface words. This woman knows the difference. She knows she will feel those words, her family will feel them, and she knows these gifts live on.
As I left, I could tell you I was thanked for coming, and I was greeted by more people coming in…a merry go round of people making the journey of presence.
I could tell you about the painting above the dining table, her diploma framed on an adjacent wall, the busy-ness of what is now unimportant to her.
I could tell you about the brave husband’s smile and warm goodbye and how his wife is in the next room asking people to pray for him.
I could tell you love and prayers really do matter.
Not my usual uplifting message I guess, but maybe it is if you read it with the knowledge that it is indeed uplifting to know we all have power to give another a free and valuable gift at any moment, in any place.
A stack of books to read in the new year…I’ll try to post some titles/pics soon. What are you reading this year?
Those airport hugs. They are markers of so much between visits. While I’m at it, pilots and air traffic controllers and attendants and security and good weather and on and on…all the folks and events that allow us to get from one place to another.
Children. If you are lucky enough to witness a child at any stage, cherish that. It is fleeting, but to witness them before the world pushes in…gift. And those smiles…
My mama’s Bundt pan and the pottery bowl she bought me decades ago. It is beige with blue hearts on it. It was too expensive really, but she saw that I admired it, and she gave it to me on some occasion. Every time I use those items, it’s as if she is in the kitchen with me. This morning, there she was as I mixed up a pound cake hours before my daughter was set to head to the airport for her return flight home. Presence. Good vibes.
Names on class rosters/courses to teach. Excited about a new group of students on campus.
Messes. Evidence of life. Things might get a bit out of hand, but generally speaking, messes mean something took place. Most likely, some part of it was good. And, if it is hard to see the good, maybe we walk away learning something. Still a win.
I know a lot of us get caught up in the gift-buying at Christmas. Guilty here, too. The real gift is us; trite as that is, it is us. And we can give of ourselves and let others give of themselves to us all year. Let us continue. ❤️
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 