CRYSTAL CLEAR

 

 

This crystal was gifted to me by my friend Margaret many years ago.  It is a wee crystal just one and a half inches in diameter.  For many years it came out only with the Christmas ornaments but one year I realized that it could be a daily addition in my life and so I hung it in the window.  I face this window every morning during breakfast at the dining room table.  Sometimes I see it, sometimes I don't.  That is the way of things that are always present.

The crystal makes its presence known many times during the day as the sun hits its many facets and beams of refracted light are sent round the floors and walls in all the prismatic colors.  A reminder of life, and hope, and friends.  And that is the way of some things -- a sparkle and a brilliance are always noticed.  But there are so many things that surround me that do not sparkle and are not brilliant.  They deserve as much notice, of course, and more often than not, NEED my notice and attention.  Who and what are the invisible in our lives that need our attention?  What will we do to bring some light where now there is none?

 

HIS AND HERS

 

Just to put a little perspective on the scene -- This is our Dining Room table.  Her side is on the right.  His side is on the left.  Some days it is difficult to tell one side from the other.  Some days the clutter overlaps.  Today I just got tired of the whole big mess thing.  I know it doesn't accomplish anything to suggest a clean-up day so I decided to clean up my own mess and gently shove 'his' center overlaps to his side.  Maybe I can make a statement.  Maybe not.  I don't care.  I can only do for myself.

There is a LOT more to this than two sides of a table.......

 

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, JEFFRI

Fifty-two years ago today.

Thank you for being in my life.

WINDOWS LIVE WRITER

I have just fallen across this program on my computer and decided to explore what it is and what it does.  I am always looking at new ways of doing things and always love it if it turns out to be something worthwhile -- doesn't often happen, but, hey, it's worth a try, right?

INDIANA RESPITE

My time here in Indiana with my sister, Jacq, is coming to an end.  We are both feeling a little sad.  It will be a year, or at least fifty weeks, until we are together again.  We keep in touch daily through e-mails and we chat on the phone every week or so.  The time actually being together is the best.  We talk and laugh, reminisce, share stories from the recent past that were too involved for e-mail or phone, lament some of the things that are currently happening, and generally just enjoy being with each other.

Distancing myself from the usual routine of my life has been a good thing.  No meetings, no time tables, no deadlines, no responisibilities, no pressure.  Time for knitting and reading and crossword puzzles.  A few days of this and I begin to relax.  Jacq and I cook family favorites and try out new recipes and, of course, keep up with the abundant garden produce.  And walk.  We have walked almost every day, on the picturesque walk along the Ohio River or through some of the residential neighborhoods of Madison. 

Oh, and in addition there's my new buddy, Kitty.  The family here calls her Peanut but she doesn't answer to that.  She answers to 'Kitty' and she greets me with a meow first thing every morning and hangs around where I am most of the day -- nosing into my face as I read, grabbing at my knitting yarns, nuzzling my fingers as I try to type on the computer keys.  I am NOT a cat person but Kitty has definitely warmed her way into my heart -- she crept up onto the foot of my bed last night and kept my feet warm.

Has the distance and time diminished my intense sense of involvement in home and family and church and work?  Not at all.  Have I gained some great sense of perspective or insight into the controversial issues?  Not at all.  Am I renewed? Yes.  Am I less anxious? Yes.  Am I ready to return and delve into the complexities of my life? Yes.  Sisters are the best!

REQUIEM FOR MY WANNA-BE ROBINS

 

Mrs. Robin sat on her beautiful, blue eggs all weekend as we came and went.  I said hello and good-bye each time.  She seemed facing a different way each time so I assume she was adjusting her warmth and rotating her eggs.  She watched me with her beady, little, suspicious, fearful eyes.  She was there when last I walk Gabriel Sunday evening.

This morning when I went out.  No Mrs. Robin.  No eggs.  Nest askew in the branches.  I am heartbroken.  My would-be grandchildren are no more for this season.  At least not from this laying.  Was it a squirrel?  A cat?  Some other nasty creature?

And, of course, I am feeling guilty because of the bush trimming that exposed her to begin with.  Sorry, Mrs. Robin.  Although there is no sorry that is enough for an unborn child.  It is a grief too deep even to be shared.  Sorry, Mrs. Robin.  Sorry.  Sorry.  Sorry.
 

CHALLENGES IN ROBINVILLE

 

Some kind of freak, fierce, forceful wind visited our domain whilst I was at work today.  Rubbish bins were scattered into the yard and the main, nest-sheltering top of the Japanese Holly bush was blown over ...

 .... leaving a gaping hole ....

... exposing the nest and gestating eggs of Mrs. Robin.

  

AND the maternal instinct of Mrs. Robin prevailed.  Thanks Be To God!