SPRING TONIC

In my grandmother’s day a good dose of blackstrap molasses and sulphur cleaned out the human system, warded off any lingering malaise from winter’s icy clutches, and tuned up the body for three seasons of hard work on the farm.

In my youth, the Spring Tonic on Grandma’s shelf was replaced by a few cups of Sassafras tea or stewed rhubarb, which pretty much worked the same way as the dreaded tonic. By the time I became a grandmother, a week in Cancun or Barbados or Aruba was the remedy. Or if your pocketbook resembled mine, five days in Kalamazoo.

Some of my friends—whose pocketbooks may be anorectic—swear by a day at the spa.

Say “spa day” and right away you’ll conjure up a jumble of images—pummeling and pomading through ten hours of sauna, massage, styling, tweaking, manicure, pedicure, every-kind-of-cure for the common blahs and disenchantments of the face and figure. Wintertime, springtime, anytime.

View of one of the "Chain"

By happy accident, I discovered another kind of spa day.

We drove from Auburn, my friend Janine and I, in her 4X4, to Chain-O-Lakes State Park about 30 minutes away. Picture a day in late April. Spring sunshine, leaves taking their time unfurling their shades of green. Water standing in fallow fields, running in ditches, swelling creeks, all from late winter snow that had no chance against a young spring breeze and honest-to-goodness sunshine.

In northeastern Indiana we celebrate the first day of spring with the rest of the civilized world—around March 21^st when the spring equinox shows up on the calendar. We know that’s a token celebration—on a par with a green Christmas—because real spring, the one worth celebrating, comes on a day when you least expect it. It’s a mid-week day, when offices and schools and businesses are up and running, expecting their employees and clients and students and customers to show up as well.

But.

On a real spring day, some of us are privileged to get in a 4X4 and cruise the trails and roads of a state park. 10 mph cruising. No hurry. No agenda. Only the journey.

The 4-by heads into the park, makes a loop around one or two of the lakes in the chain, from which the park gets its name, and climbs one of the steep hills into a wooded area. Campground, cabins, fish-cleaning station…. Down another hill into the valley floor. What used to be a racing creek has expanded into a flowing meadow. The water’s nearly level with the bridge over the no-longer-dashing waterway.

We stop and park on the side of the road. Janine takes out one of her cameras, a monster thing with a long lens that allows her to poke her eye into Nature’s intimate business from a safe distance. I watch last autumn’s leaves float down the lazy stream and let the sun fall on my face.

Our only companions are woodsy inhabitants, too shy to come out.

When Janine winds up her photo op, we continue our loop around the park, and end up at one side of the biggest lake where a pier juts out into the main channel. I stand in the sun, my arms propped on the side supports of the pier, while Janine snaps photos of me in various hats and scarves for future use as publicity pics.

We’ve spoken fewer than fifty words since we entered the park. No pummeling, no pomading. No need for the delights of the day spa.

Because here, in this natural setting, we’ve bathed in warm spring air so delicious you can almost taste it, spied out elusive greens that will soon be in full leaf to delight the eye, caught the springtime perfume of sun on old leaves and new growth. Our souls have basked in Nature music: bird song, trickles of water running over stones, dry leaves from a year ago whisked away by a sudden breeze.

We’ve spent no money. Yet we’ve received simple gifts: cures for the common winter blahs, and disenchantments of the spirit. You can’t bottle this tonic and sell it for profit. This cure is free for the taking. If you want it.

Blessings,

Thursday's Child

Autumn @ Chain-O-Lakes
Another inspiring season

 GIVE / TAKE

When I was growing up in middle America, in mid-century 1900s, I recall a lot of phrases that made complete sense then--but today--well, sometimes not so much. 

Some we still use. For example, GIVE.

   GIVE UP - no question what that means--stop trying; but it can also mean, hand it over

   GIVE IN - similar to GIVE UP; but more a sense of reluctance, perhaps

   GIVE OUT - we've probably all been there; end of energy.

   or GIVE OUT - as a description of how we handled a situation, perhaps in a negative way

   GIVE WAY - maybe a little less antagonistic way of giving up

   GIVE OVER - get out of the way; back down

Then there's TAKE.

   TAKE OVER - what one company (or person) does to another

   TAKE OUT - sometimes TAKE AWAY - mostly used to describe meals

   TAKE UP - start a new thing (take up kayaking)

   TAKE IN - usually used in a negative way (can't take it in--can't understand it); or

      TAKE IN a poor relative who has no place to go (lot of that in the Great Depression)

      There's also Taking In a pair of pants so they will fit better; mine is mostly "letting out" so I don't have much experience in this line.

   TAKE ON - used in my childhood to describe emoting--she does take on so

   TAKE IT - not stealing; just have to accept whatever it is

Another phrase I recall was meant to explain an approximation: We have 500 acres, give or take. Maybe 500, maybe a little more, maybe a little less. More colloquial in use, less ostentatious.

Then there are the uses of GIVE and TAKE alone; for example:

   GIVE my love

   GIVE you my hand in marriage

   GIVE someone a hard time; be difficult, argumentative

   GIVE me a f'r instance

   and one I've had to explain, from time to time, GIVEN . . . which means, let's assume this is true, then such-and-such follows

   TAKE, as an example, ABC

   TAKE care

   TAKE A PICTURE

   TAKE pills

   and TAKEN, meaning not available because it's already in use, or chosen by someone else

And there's always the GIVE AND TAKE of life--sometimes one, sometimes the other.

Do you recall other uses of GIVE or TAKE? Share them with the class!

Blessings freely given, take as many as you need,

Thursday's Child

Help yourself!

  THAT WAS THEN . . . .

J S Bach

(We're all enmeshed in a time and climate of change--like it or not. There's always going to be a "back then" that we refer to, maybe even cling to. I'm not entirely converted to modern times, but neither am I rejecting them. So here's a post I did a few years ago about how technology itself has changed, and how it has changed our lives. We may not embrace it in whole-hearted fashion, but we can celebrate what it does for us. It means looking for the benefits. So what else do we have to do?)

In my low-tech youth, we were considered fortunate to have a telephone at home. The first one I remember was in the country, and we had a three-party line. That meant two other homes had phones that would ring when someone called us. And, obviously, ours would ring if someone else on the line received a call. Each ring was distinctive: one long, one short; or one long, two shorts; and so on. The temptation was to pick up even when our own ring wasn’t the one we heard—to hear what other people were saying. I was only six or seven and too young to submit to temptation. I can’t vouch for other members of my family.

At that time we had a rather nice radio, big floor model, on which I listened to The Long Ranger every evening at 6:30. It was my bedtime (the prevailing childrearing wisdom in that long-ago era decreed 12 hours of sleep for children—which I never got because I couldn’t go to sleep at 6:30 PM and sleep till 6:30 AM. But that’s another story). I loved listening to the radio while lying on the living room rug, staring into the cloth-covered speaker. (Sorry, I don’t remember the brand.)

For other entertainment, we had movies, both Technicolor and black and white; live bands for dancing; and homemade music—guitars, fiddles, and accordions, along with singers of varying homegrown talent.

Television was in our future, as were fax machines, home computers, and laser technology in medicine.

In the 1970s and 1980s I began to notice what I now call mid-tech events. The law office that hired me had a Mag-Card typewriter that recorded boilerplate paragraphs on flexible plastic “cards” the size of a cashier’s check. The boilerplate was coded with stops—the machine would stop and the operator could insert information, perhaps the name of the person making the will, deed, or affidavit, or the names of legatees.

In a short time we had one personal computer in the office for the real estate secretary—she typed long legal descriptions, and having once proofread it with another person, she could save it for future use on a number of documents for a transaction. A big time saver.

Next came the word processors, stand-alone machines that did primarily text, but had a couple of bells and whistles, such as calculations—adding up a column of figures being one I recall because I used it often. And loved that feature, math not being my greatest talent.

As is often the case, one computer led to another, and before we knew where we were, we had a small mainframe. This was nothing like room size, more like a two-suiter suitcase standing on end. From that one little server, we could operate three or four other workstations.

Ah, as you see, we’re getting into modern terms.

During all this technology advancement, we learned that we could do a whole lots more work with less effort. No one was out of a job, but we could take on more business because the documents could be prepared more quickly.

So—if technology changed the workplace—no, I really should say “when” it changed the workplace—what happened out in the rest of the world?

My observation is this: technology didn’t change people. That is, not their emotions, their relationships, their challenges in life. We still fell in love, lost friends or made new ones, saw our family members die and mourned their passing. The death rate, the divorce rate, the disinheriting of heirs—none of that was affected by technology.

Stories, stories, stories...

The universal truths that have come down to us through literature, visual art, music—all these have continued. If they had not, how could we, in our 21^st Century lives, appreciate the literature of the Bible? The Sistine Chapel ceiling painted by Michelangelo? Bach’s Brandenburg Concertos?

Love found and love lost . . . betrayal . . . forgiveness . . . redemption . . . sacrifice . . . they’re all found in the Bible, in the ancient literatures of other cultures--they're always with us, as they were then, and, I suspect, as they always will be.

We can see and feel and hear them through the books we hold in our hands or read on our e-reader; through a concert in Lincoln Center or on an iPod; on a gallery tour by foot at the Metropolitan or sitting at home, online.

Low-tech, mid-tech, high-tech—does it matter? I doubt it. What matters is that we continue to celebrate all the facets of life, in whatever century we live, with whatever tools we have at hand.

They’re all gifts. Give thanks for them.

Blessings,

Thursday's Child

Portion of Michelangelo's painting
on the Sistine Chapel ceiling

 THAT WAS THEN . . . .

J S Bach

(We're all enmeshed in a time and climate of change--like it or not. There's always going to be a "back then" that we refer to, maybe even cling to. I'm not entirely converted to modern times, but neither am I rejecting them. So here's a post I did a few years ago about how technology itself has changed, and how it has changed our lives. We may not embrace it in whole-hearted fashion, but we can celebrate what it does for us. It means looking for the benefits. So what else do we have to do?)

In my low-tech youth, we were considered fortunate to have a telephone at home. The first one I remember was in the country, and we had a three-party line. That meant two other homes had phones that would ring when someone called us. And, obviously, ours would ring if someone else on the line received a call. Each ring was distinctive: one long, one short; or one long, two shorts; and so on. The temptation was to pick up even when our own ring wasn’t the one we heard—to hear what other people were saying. I was only six or seven and too young to submit to temptation. I can’t vouch for other members of my family.

At that time we had a rather nice radio, big floor model, on which I listened to The Long Ranger every evening at 6:30. It was my bedtime (the prevailing childrearing wisdom in that long-ago era decreed 12 hours of sleep for children—which I never got because I couldn’t go to sleep at 6:30 PM and sleep till 6:30 AM. But that’s another story). I loved listening to the radio while lying on the living room rug, staring into the cloth-covered speaker. (Sorry, I don’t remember the brand.)

For other entertainment, we had movies, both Technicolor and black and white; live bands for dancing; and homemade music—guitars, fiddles, and accordions, along with singers of varying homegrown talent.

Television was in our future, as were fax machines, home computers, and laser technology in medicine.

In the 1970s and 1980s I began to notice what I now call mid-tech events. The law office that hired me had a Mag-Card typewriter that recorded boilerplate paragraphs on flexible plastic “cards” the size of a cashier’s check. The boilerplate was coded with stops—the machine would stop and the operator could insert information, perhaps the name of the person making the will, deed, or affidavit, or the names of legatees.

In a short time we had one personal computer in the office for the real estate secretary—she typed long legal descriptions, and having once proofread it with another person, she could save it for future use on a number of documents for a transaction. A big time saver.

Next came the word processors, stand-alone machines that did primarily text, but had a couple of bells and whistles, such as calculations—adding up a column of figures being one I recall because I used it often. And loved that feature, math not being my greatest talent.

As is often the case, one computer led to another, and before we knew where we were, we had a small mainframe. This was nothing like room size, more like a two-suiter suitcase standing on end. From that one little server, we could operate three or four other workstations.

Ah, as you see, we’re getting into modern terms.

During all this technology advancement, we learned that we could do a whole lots more work with less effort. No one was out of a job, but we could take on more business because the documents could be prepared more quickly.

So—if technology changed the workplace—no, I really should say “when” it changed the workplace—what happened out in the rest of the world?

My observation is this: technology didn’t change people. That is, not their emotions, their relationships, their challenges in life. We still fell in love, lost friends or made new ones, saw our family members die and mourned their passing. The death rate, the divorce rate, the disinheriting of heirs—none of that was affected by technology.

Stories, stories, stories...

The universal truths that have come down to us through literature, visual art, music—all these have continued. If they had not, how could we, in our 21^st Century lives, appreciate the literature of the Bible? The Sistine Chapel ceiling painted by Michelangelo? Bach’s Brandenburg Concertos?

Love found and love lost . . . betrayal . . . forgiveness . . . redemption . . . sacrifice . . . they’re all found in the Bible, in the ancient literatures of other cultures--they're always with us, as they were then, and, I suspect, as they always will be.

We can see and feel and hear them through the books we hold in our hands or read on our e-reader; through a concert in Lincoln Center or on an iPod; on a gallery tour by foot at the Metropolitan or sitting at home, online.

Low-tech, mid-tech, high-tech—does it matter? I doubt it. What matters is that we continue to celebrate all the facets of life, in whatever century we live, with whatever tools we have at hand.

They’re all gifts. Give thanks for them.

Blessings,

Thursday's Child

Portion of Michelangelo's painting
on the Sistine Chapel ceiling

  MORE GLEANINGS....

In past years I've shared some of my "gleanings," those phrases and ideas and concepts that struck me as noteworthy and might appeal to others folks also.

Today, I know we're already in March, heading toward SPRING, but I'm in the crowd that's agitating for Spring! Yes, I know that it'll come when it comes. But, really--isn't it nice to have something to cheer for?

I do sense a need to have something to get excited about. (This may just be a fancy way of describing Hope, one of my favorite things.)

So today's gleanings are on the light side. So if you have a case of the grumps that you can't get rid of, somebody else's wit or humor might just shift your attitude a few millimeters.

-----

Ready? Here we go:

Everybody complains about the weather, but nobody does anything about it. Mark Twain

     No man has a good enough memory to be a successful liar. Abraham Lincoln

Get your facts first, then you can distort them as you please. Mark Twain

     I may be drunk, Miss, but in the morning I will be sober and you will still be ugly. Winston Churchill

Common sense is the collection of prejudices acquired by age eighteen. Albert Einstein

     Behind every great man is a woman rolling her eyes. Jim Carrey

Always remember you are absolutely unique. Just like everybody else. Margaret Mead

     People who think they know everything are a great annoyance to those of us who do. Isaac Asimov

I refuse to join any club that would have me as a member. Groucho Marx

-----

Did you get a chuckle or two? Or maybe a little smile tugging at the corners of your mouth? Well, good! You're on your way to having a good day. Oh, you got a growl? All right! Go with that. And have a better day because you got it out of your system early on.

Until next time, have a blessed week.

Thursday's Child

It's on the way!

 BEST NEWS . . .

VERNAL EQUINOX COMING SOON

Fri, Mar 20, 2026, 10:46 AM

Northern Hemisphere – Eastern Time

If you haven't already done so, mark your calendars! Spring will be arriving 23 days from now.

Yes, I've kept up with the news--snowstorms of gigantic proportions hitting the Northeastern U.S. Avalanches that took lives in the West. Temps cowering in the lower digits all over the map.

But it's going to be Spring! Give thanks! Have a party! Give somebody a big hug! Throw your sweatshirt in the corner and run outside! So what if the thermometer says it's only 22 degrees that day? Enjoy 15 seconds of Spring!

-----

So, what can you do outside on the First Day of Spring? Well, you can look for signs--those big or little reminders that Earth is going through her paces. Spring brings new growth--do you see any of the early flowers? Daffodils? Crocuses? Little buds on bushes that will one day explode into flower? (I always wish for a snowball bush about now.) Lilacs have had buds all through winter--soon there will be some green on the brownish buds, and before we know it, there'll be leaves--then more buds for flowers--and one day you'll open your back door and by gum, there'll be lilacs blooming in your dooryard.

Grass has been green throughout the winter--sometimes visible, sometimes hidden under snow (up to a foot or more here in Northeast Indiana)--but there, nonetheless. 

I'm not an outdoor girl. (I think I've mentioned that before? Yes, I thought so.) But the arrival of a new season is cause for celebration. And if the weather doesn't cooperate? Spring is a season of the heart--and mind--and spirit, as much as a date and time on a calendar. Maybe more so.

And thanks be for that!

Blessings,

Thursday's Child

 THINGS I'VE LEARNED ALONG THE WAY

We're all on a learning curve, from the time we're born till we finally give up this life.

You'll recognize all the ordinary, expected, ways we've progressed--learning to ride a bike, reading for the first time, winning (or losing) a ball game because of an error we made. You can make your own list of high (or low) points.

Today I want to pull out a few memories and examine what I've learned. Such as:

• what to do about the "self-critic" that rides on my shoulder
• how to deal with perfectionism
• failure
• joy
• self-care

That critic that sits on my shoulder and whispers in my ear that I'm wasting my time (no matter what I'm trying to accomplish) has ruined many a project. Doesn't matter what it is--art, music, crafts, fiber arts, sometimes even finishing my college degree. 

Then there was perfectionism--a trait I took on pretty early in my life as a way to "earn" my parents' approval. Huge mistake--it never worked. And if I ever did become "perfect" (by someone's standards) there was always the risk of having it fall through.

Which leads to failure. If I was going to be perfect, then I had no option but to make sure I never, ever, failed. You can imagine how that played out.

Somewhere along the line I found joy--and it came with all those projects my self-critic said I couldn't do. But I persevered, and even when what I tried didn't work out, I said, okay, I learned something about that. And I'd had a good time--a joyful time.

The first four categories are about ways we live our lives. In the end, they add up to how we care for ourselves. 

-----

Here are some of the lessons I learned:

• I had to embrace "good enough" and let my self-critic go off and pout in a corner.
• I had to let go of the competitive spirit that said I had to be perfect--or another way of putting it, being better than everybody else. (How ugly is that?)
• I had to see failure as an opportunity to learn/grow/see or do something in a new way.
• I had to welcome joy into my life--knowing there was never going to be the ideal, or perfect answer or way to live; but there was going to be a life worth living.
• I learned that self-care isn't the same as selfishness. Self-care is knowing myself well enough to figure out what I'm doing that keeps my mind and body happy and working well, and equally, figuring out what is toxic to good mental and physical health.

Best of all, it's never too late to learn more about how to take care of yourself; by doing so, you will have a self to give to others.

-----

Besides all the big categories discussed above, I learned lots of things to add to my life--country-western line dancing; knitting and sewing large projects; cooking gluten-free; yoga; tai chi; living alone and doing all my own yard work, house work, and getting maintenance for house, yard, and vehicle. I wrote novels and short stories (but not for publication). I started this blog. I worked in a law office for 30 years.

Sounds as if I found the magic formula, doesn't it? Sorry, there is no magic formula. There is only keeping on, continuing to learn, to try new things.

Mostly, what I've learned "along the way," is to do what I can to help others; to be kind, or (as someone is quoted as saying) if I can't be kind, to be kind-er. I wish you joy in your journey.

Blessings,

Thursday's Child