Thursday, March 29, 2018

HAPPY EASTER!

The most joyous Easter celebrations in our family were, for me, the ones in the 1970s.

We lived in the country, on 169 acres of tillable land, woods, creek, and buildings in more or less habitable state.

The children were old enough to forego the chocolate bunnies and jelly bean eggs; but I recall we did color the eggs from our hens to decorate the dinner table.

Ham was always the entree. And here memory begins to waver--probably we had scalloped potatoes (because they could be prepared ahead of time--you'll see why in a moment); green beans from our garden that had been stored in the basement in Mason jars awaiting many a winter meal; a frozen salad/dessert made of cream cheese, dry custard powder, frozen lime juice, canned pineapple, and nuts, all mixed together and fluffed up with frozen whipped topping. I know, it sounds a little gross, but trust me, it was delicious. And there were always fresh-baked rolls, the brown-and-serve kind popular with busy families in those days.

Dinner was practically made ahead because we spent the morning at the little country church down the road. I was choir director then, and we always prepared and performed an Easter cantata. Always a different one each year. We had enough good voices to take solo parts, and an organist and pianist who made the whole thing work. By the time we'd brought the message of death and resurrection in song, we were all exhausted. A great feeling, that kind of exhaustion, with joy woven through.

After a short visit with other church members, we all headed out for our homes and whatever dinners awaited us.

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Easter Sunday is less hectic nowadays. There's no big dinner to prepare ahead of time. No cantata to practice for weeks on end. The service is familiar, and yet always new. 

Last year and again this year I'll serve as communion assistant (chalice bearer) during the second service. There will be many, many more worshippers than on recent Sundays--some are visitors in town to celebrate with families; others come only on Christmas and Easter, but we love to see them anyway. They are part of the church family.

I'll leave with a different kind of joy in my heart, made up of soaring hymns and choir anthems; familiar Scripture readings; good wishes from other parishioners; a sermon that reassures us of the hope of the resurrection.

Less hectic, yes. But no less joyous. The joy is now more in the heart than in the senses. 

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I love the image of butterflies for this time of year--we know the butterfly was once a lowly worm that spun its cocoon, hung around on dead branches for the required number of days and weeks, and when the time was right, it emerged as a butterfly. New life from an entirely different beginning.

Wishing you a joyous Easter!



Thursday, March 22, 2018

WHAT MAKES YOUR DAY?

“Go ahead — make my day.” 

Never mind Dirty Harry, there are lovely things that can make your day.

Here are some of mine:

February 22nd--Outside my writing room window I watched birds arrive for the early morning meal at my suet and seed feeders. One was an Eastern Bluebird. I'd never seen one in the flesh before. My photos were shot through a window covered by a screen, so they weren't very clear. But this picture from the Internet shows exactly what I saw:



It really was that blue.

Last week--I added a package of white no-show socks to my shopping cart. Yesterday I ran them through the laundry. When I folded the dry clothes, I had 28 socks! Twelve of them were the new white no-shows. Made my day!

Any day, any year--getting a letter or note or card from a relative or friend can make my day brighter. It's like having a visit without having to straighten up the living room or bake a batch of cookies. I usually make a cup of tea to drink while I read what I received in the mail. (Checks arriving in the mail are welcome also; they seldom come with a hand-written note, but they can make my day just as they are.)

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This is Day 3 of Spring! Morning skies are beginning to get light by the time I have my coffee brewed and sit down at my desk with my journal and pen, raise the mini-blind, and wait for birds to come by for the AM feed. The air may be chilly for a few more days, and I know rain is coming next week (several days in a row), but it's Spring here in the northeast corner of Indiana. What's not to love?

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Hope good things come to you to make your day . . . .







Thursday, March 15, 2018

10 THINGS YOU PROBABLY NEVER KNEW ABOUT ME


10. I don't like walking in the rain. It's not romantic, for Pete's sake, it's wet!

 9. I prefer Mexican food to Chinese. Either one, nothing too high on the spicy scale.

 8. Horror movies either (a) scare me witless or (b) make me laugh at how stupid they are.

 7. I love beautiful gardens! I just don't like having to make them or maintain them. Beautiful gardens are for looking at.

 6. Too-friendly neighbors send my paranoia antennae twirling. Same goes for flaming extraverts at social gatherings. I itch all over.

 5. My favorite car is at least 8 years old, low mileage, looks like several hundred others on the road, and always starts.

 4. My favorite writing instrument is a not-too-wet gel pen; next favorite is a Uniball or Bic stick pen--definitely not wet.

 3. Currently I am reading 8 books . . . one fiction, seven non-fiction (mostly collections of essays).

 2. In the year 2017, I lost 14 lbs. And have kept it off.

 1. Every painting, photograph, and print hanging on my walls is a water scene, including a batik my oldest daughter made for me in high school.

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None of the above things is unique to me--but they make me different from other people you know. The amazing thing is this: There's a universal something that connects every one of us to the others. Some people say it's our species' use of language. Others say it's our innate goodness, or sense of community, or the gift of creativity.

Celebrate your differences! And then celebrate our likenesses.




Thursday, March 8, 2018

WAIT AND SEE

Three little words . . . "wait and see" . . . .

When I was a little kid, "wait and see" meant, very likely, "no." But it was a softer let-down than the absolute "no" to a question I asked.

As I got older, say, into the teen years, I realized "wait and see" had some value.

--Take a test--wait for the results and see if I've passed.
--Audition for a part in one of the school dramas--wait to see if I was chosen for the part I wanted most.
--Big dance coming up--Christmas formal, prom--wait and see if I get asked to go. (And then wait and see if my parents would let me go. Or if I had enough money to get a nice dress.)

Then there were the young adult years: lots of waiting and seeing during courtship, marriage, birth of children. But this period of time had a different flavor--no more just anticipating an event and then assessing how it turned out. This was more in the line of having multiple possible results. And making more decisions, rather than waiting for things "to work out" by themselves.

If you opted not to go the marriage and kiddies route, you might have considered these:

--Go to college, enroll in a course that will (one hopes) lead to a job. Study, get good grades, if possible; graduate. Look for a job. Keep looking. Possibly take any available employment to have income for a family. 

--Or, take another path, perhaps the military; employment opportunity, educational opportunity, travel. Then get deployed--wait and see where you'll be going. Family left in the states continue the waiting and seeing--keeping the positive view that you will return home.

--Find a cause you want to help with, make your life count by working in the Peace Corps, or work with church missions in faraway places; you don't even have to leave home--look for any size city or town where homeless shelters and other types of facilities work with folks whose lives have taken a turn for the worse.

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The older I grew, the less certain, the less clear-cut, were the possible outcomes of my choices and decisions.

I knew I would retire one day. Retirement was something to look forward to because I had many enjoyable activities that had been put on hold while I worked. So I waited for retirement . . . and what came was a lot of time to fill up. No problem there--I could do many of those activities I'd put on hold: work with a daytime group at the church; do my shopping early in the morning, instead of after work or on Saturday; spend most of a day cooking--results to be frozen for later use; or, spend most of a day putting a quilt together. There's almost nothing you can't finish if you can devote a whole day to it from time to time.

Now I'm less goal driven. My choice of activities doesn't have to lead to a job or a relationship or a path to follow. This blog, for instance, isn't slotted into any particular niche; thinking up possible topics and exploring them keeps my writing muscles working. But I'm not working toward an award or publication in some other medium.

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I don't like exploring the downside of topics here at Thursday's Child, but sometimes we have to acknowledge the less-than-positive in our lives.

Medical tests--very, very few tests can be done in one day and the results known a few hours later. What to do with the waiting time?

Well, there's always panic. Or ranting and pulling our hair. Or complete meltdown. 

These might help us relieve some of the tension and stress of not-knowing, but that's about all that comes out of kicking the furniture or hurling dishes against the wall.



You'll never find me on a list of gardeners--enthusiastic or otherwise--but I can attest that kneeling on the ground with a potted plant and a trowel to add a growing bush to my landscaping came close to being an other-worldly experience. Time ceased to be of any significance. Sun on my shoulders, breeze blowing through my hair, newly turned earth smelling pungent . . . the whole experience was sensory. No room for feeling of any kind.

You can lose yourself in a book, a movie, a walk in the park. Temporary, yes, but helpful.

You can find a friend to help you wait out the time until results come in. There's nothing so lonely as waiting alone for results you're afraid to get.

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Do I still wait and see? Of course. We all do at times. Not everything has a definite outcome right this minute.

But I find not knowing can be a good thing. I'm not crazy about surprises, but I do like a little suspense in my life. Beyond the suspense, though, there's a strengthening that comes when we've successfully navigated a "wait and see" journey. The next one may not be so hard.






Thursday, March 1, 2018

MARCH!

New month . . . new expectations . . . .

On March 20th, we'll celebrate the first day of spring, 2018. A one-time thing--there won't be another first day of spring this year. Make the most of it.

Before that, though, we live with all the old sayings:

If March comes in like a lion, it'll go out like a lamb.

Or, if March comes in like a lamb . . . you got it, out like a lion.

In my neck of the woods, there's a little of both--the lion roaring around, trees swaying, rain pelting down, temp dropping. Then the little lamb gambols across the landscape bringing sunshine, a soft breeze, the illusion of a warm spring day. What's up with that?

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This year, March is the last gasp of Lent--Easter Sunday is April 1st. And if the weather doesn't show up dressed in sunshine and fluffy clouds--if we get a freezing rain before the sunrise service (happened to us about 40 years ago here in my neighborhood)--well, that's what we get that day. It'll still be Easter Sunday.

In Anne Hillerman's book Rock with Wings, police officer Jim Chee reflects on weather:


He never minded summer, even at its peak. What was the point of calling anything in nature “bad”? Weather was weather, hot was hot, cold was cold. He didn’t see the need to attach judgment.


But Chee is a native of the desert Southwest, and he's a traditional Navajo, which means he's close to nature, and the above attitude is just right for his character.

I won't say I'll be nonchalant about the weather on Easter Sunday. If it's a cold, rainy day, I'll feel cold, and I'll wear a raincoat and hope my fingers don't freeze while I drive to church.

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What do you look forward to in March? Gardening? Working outside? Building a gazebo? Taking the dog for longer walks? Not shoveling snow? 

We had an almost-spring day or two this week. My job was to clear the fallen limbs, branches, and sticks that wind had torn from my four big old trees. There's a good-sized pile at the curb for the City trucks to pick up later on. And the trash bin is filling up nicely with the small stuff--it's naturally biodegradable so it's okay for the landfill.

When we get a warmish day without wind, my patio will get some attention--last year's leaves got tangled up in some of the bushes nearby, so that'll require a rake and a bushel basket for hauling debris to the bin out front. Best of all, I may get to see some buds on flowering bushes. If not, I'll keep checking.

Last night, my Ohio daughter told me her daffodils and tulips are already about three inches out of the ground. Go Spring!

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March is a month that wears many hats--a sunbonnet for the bright days--a poplin rainhat for the precursor to April showers--a tied-on scarf to keep hair out of our eyes when we walk or run on the snow-free walks and streets.

It's a month of green beer and wild weather, sunshine and rain. Whatever--celebrate March!