Category Archives: Doing life

The Roses of Lent

“Delectable”, “luscious” are used to describe Lenten Roses in Seeing Flowers by Teri Dunn Chace with photography by Robert Llewellyn. Exquisitely complex comes to me.

Nourished in shade and deep composting tree litter, they are shy blooms rarely lifting their heads to gaze back at you. To see their beauty requires determination and the humility to bend low or even kneel in the woodsy damp round them. I’m sitting in the coffee shop surrounded by human bloomings and thinking about the passing of time and people and how difficult it can be to see the exquisite beauty of each person. How difficult it can be to lift my own head to look into the eyes of others. In the Book of Malachi, these lovely words are found, “But unto you that fear my name shall the Sun of righteousness arise with healing in his wings;”

I think about how hard it can be to lift my face to the Sun of righteousness Who has healing in His wings so that I might then serve others with humility.

The journey is a grand adventure, The reward to see exquisitely complex beauty is before me.

Do you find it easy to find the amazing beauty in others? I know I have often walked by without even noticing.

Winter Marches along

Last week we had an out and about day. While hubby kept an appointment, I strolled through the nearby import store. I felt so warm as I returned to the car that I threw my heavy jacket in the back seat. Driving along to the library I realized it was 28 degrees. What a winter to leave me with the feeling that 28 was warm! Shopping, services and office buildings were built near the edge of marshland. I took what I hoped would be a shortcut back and was totally distracted. Geese strolled along a stream and drew my attention to a pond full of birds.

They must have quite a fan club from the footprints left in the snow and I was disconcerted as they came flying and running toward me. Since I was not offering them treats, some stood nonchalantly while the white ducks moon-walked away without a backward glace. It was such a glorious afternoon and the duck chatter and antics as they slid across the ice had me laughing out loud. It was so fun to find such a treasure hidden so close to the familiar.

Weather or not

There are those among us who have endured an unusual winter of steady, deep cold and white and now look at the turning of the calendar page as magical. Not so Theresa who serves at the local bakery café. “March is mean.”, was served with my coffee this morning. She’s right, that is the history here. No magic March will happen this year either; the forecast continues for bitter cold and more snow to come. No magic acts here, at least not the kind that folks want, of disappearing coats and hats and snow shovels.

But under the snow and ice and cold, wonders are happening. I’m waiting for the real magic show to begin. As a preview, here are some photos from last March.

Earth dreaming

The Snow Moon will shine tonight. Whether or not we will see it or just more falling snow is still unknown. There was much snow this week; much more than I cared to shovel. But shovel we do. Dig out the heat pump and shovel a path to the bird feeders. Then there is the driveway to consider. Normally we don’t consider it too much any more; Joe plows for us. Except when his rig breaks down, like it did yesterday morning leaving us with 14 inches or so to contemplate today. So we shoveled and chopped ice and made phone calls and repeated the process. Then the phone rang and our new neighbor offered to come with his tractor. Such blessed relief!

Today I learned the proverb, “St Valentine brings the keys of roots.” Within it is the thought that this is the day when plants start growing. Last week I noticed a slight swelling of the magnolia buds and I found this… a snowdrop! It is now blanketed with deep snow but its bravery was a sign of the earth dreaming Spring!

It’s going to be a long winter…

…”and what will the birdies do then, the poor things…” an old camp song goes through my mind… be sure to drag out loooong. Yesterday with everything covered in ice, they foraged at the feeders, sought shelter under the shrubbery or just sat on ice covered branches thinking bird thoughts.

We were grateful to have shelter, cold sandwiches and a warm fire.Cold, hard beauty could be found.

Late in the afternoon, the temperature rose above freezing, the sun came out, and it rained a thick layer of “ice cubes”.

Melt will come and the work will begin to clean up all the cold, hard sad.

The birds were happy this was not the branch that holds their feeder; we are happy it did not fall on the house itself although it certainly woke us up when it hit.That mound of icy greenery totally hides the shed. From every window and door we see piles of winter storm prunings to be gathered up.

The pine tree that welcomed us home all these years and weathered many a hurricane and winter storm has fallen. I shall miss this old friend.

A Cheery New Year to You!

Snow came and went; cold came and stayed a while and on New Year’s Day, I began a long winter’s nap punctuated by great coughing fits. Eventually and gratefully, I did wake up and began the tasks of life again, packing away Christmas decor, sprucing up a bit for this winter season, engaging in everyday chores and being quite happy to do so!

One of the joys of the moment is the grand opening of a red amaryllis on my window sill to share with you.

Advent Gift

When I was 9, I left my local parish school. That fall I entered the thick grey walls of a girls’ school, a long streetcar ride from home. The halls that threaded the school where normally filled with the muted trampings of rubber soles and the rustling of black habits and long rosary beads. Those first months I felt the walls had eyes and ears that peered into my soul, weighed me and found me lacking in grace and whatever other qualities where expected in a student there. And I shrank into my introverted shell.

Then came late November and a gift was dropped into my soul. All the elementary students gathered at the beginning of the day in a strange wide place filled with windows in an otherwise enclosed hallway. The windows stretched from steamy radiators almost to the high ceilings. I remember that Monday filling the space with grey early light. There was a surprise as the heavy scent of Christmas hung in the air as we pressed in to be close to the large wreath of fresh greens somehow suspended above us. As a candle was lit, those several hundred voices sang out, “O come, O come, Emmanuel and ransom captive Israel…” I don’t know if I understood the words but enclosed in the sound was mystery and comfort.

I’ve sung and heard this hymn sung every year since and when I hug it close and let myself return to that dark place, I hear the echo of those voices down through time and touch again the mystery and the comfort.

I believe that God Himself touched that lonely little girl with His presence and began a game of hide and seek with her. It would take many years but again in real time He would touch my soul with the mystery, wonder, and comfort of His presence and I would know His name – Emmanuel – God with us – God with me.

Ann Voskamp is sharing about Advent wreaths, Jesse trees and keeping Advent. Ann has such insight and grace to touch mystery and wonder; you might enjoy a visit with her at the farm.

Foundations

I suppose we all know the stories of Pilgrims and Plymouth Colony and the stories of their days shown as cartoons can weaken the reality of their struggles to settle this wild land. But before the Plymouth Bay Colony, there was Virginia. The Virginia Colony of entrepreneurs and the Plymouth Colony seeking religious liberty were foundations for these United States.

Our recent trip to historic Jamestowne was again a bleak reminder of the struggles and pain, deprivation and death of the earliest adventurers. It all seemed somehow magnified by the beauty of the day we visited.

Divine Providence, provision, and persistence kept the colony of Virginia, growing it from wilderness to the flourishing community of Williamsburg.

My own ancestors came over two centuries later but their hearts for freedom and provision for their children gave them resolve to see past dangers and deprivations and, with faith, they came. On this Thanksgiving, I bow my head in gratitude for them and honor the price they paid – for me and my family of today who could only have been a vague and distant dream. I pray that we as a nation will remain true to our heritage for the generations to come.

Happy Thanksgiving!

May the coming year abound with blessings for you and your household. Amen!

Stitching in time

Somewhere in the deep storage of memories, I remember a quilt – 2 in fact. I guess they were really just coverlets, no batting for warmth. But they brought a comfort, coming out of the depths of the old sofa bed storage whenever one of us was sick and the couch became our daybed.

One was made of squares of shirting fabric embroidered with simple designs that I recognized from Christmas cookie cutters: circles, diamonds, hearts, flowers, Scottie dogs… block letters spelled a child’s name.

The other quilt was made of circles of the same kind of fabric gathered into tight little bunches – “yo-yos” I now know. A few found in an old sewing box many years later stirred the memory and a small piece was born from my scrap box and needle.

Slightly larger circles by the dozens have taken shape in waiting times and places and fill a large basket.

Recently, in this lovely book by Jane Brocket, I saw much larger yo-yos or as she calls them, Suffolk Puffs. I made a template and gathered some fabrics.

I am so pleased by the varied appearance the different sized puffs produce and especially these large ones. I enjoy the repetitive, simple stitching in waiting times and long rides. No expertise with a needle is required for this project. Jane gives directions in her book, but if you just happen to have a circle of fabric and needle and thread handy and want to give it a try, Heather Bailey has a lovely tutorial on her blog.

A few months ago, I sat stitching, keeping busy, keeping calm in a hospital waiting room with incessant TV. From time to time, I would look up and see someone’s eyes fastened on my work. I wondered if it was just something to focus on beside the screen or if somehow memories of quilts known or hands sewing were being stirred and offered some comfort to the anxious waiting there.

A quick search of Pinterest + yo-yos will show you an amazing amount of creativity springing from such a simple craft.

Another secret garden

On the grounds of a busy medical center near Baltimore, I have found a hidden garden. Grown from a ravine between garage and offices and crossed with walkways, it draws me anytime I go on campus. On a clear September day, I took the time to linger in this oasis and enjoy the waterfall and pond.

I felt the tension float away as I listened to the water talking to the rocks it passed.

This frog fellow was my only companion, relaxing forever on his lily pad with his carefree attitude that seemed to speak to me that day as the water flowed through him to splash and aerate the water for the vermillion fish.

Wouldn’t it be grand to stretch and face the sun, totally at peace, while accomplishing the work of nurturing others. Thinking about this, I rose and then noticed this small, living frog who I could imagine was also intent on the sculpture. (look closely to the left, near the fallen leaf)

Now relaxed and smiling, I left him to his musing.