FRIENDSHIP

[This essay first appeared some years ago. Lately, though, I've been thinking about friendship--how important it is for our well-being--so I decided to repeat these thoughts in preparation for a celebration, however quiet, of Friendship. And even more important--don't limit yourself to a one-day celebration! It's an Everyday Thing!]

August 7 is friendship day. That was last week.

But friendship has been on my mind and heart lately and I want to explore some definitions and thoughts on what friendship is, and what it is to have—or to be—a friend.

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The most elemental definition I’ve ever seen is the title of Joan Walsh Anglund’s book, A Friend Is Someone Who Likes You. It was published in 1958 for children 4 to 7 years old. A friend is…someone who likes you. Simple. Direct. Easy to understand.

But as we all know, we grow older, and life takes twists and turns, our experiences cause us to make leaps and bounds. Or go backward. Or fall on our prats. Sometimes what we go through is, well, less than joyful. Here are some thoughts to keep your hearts and minds engaged in friendly paths as you find your way through the jungle.

* * * * *

Friendship is unnecessary, like philosophy, like art... It has no survival value; rather it is one of those things that give value to survival.   --C. S. Lewis (1898-1967)

Who among us has not had a friend who kept us sane, even for a little while? Or who held our hand in a dark time? Who talked us down from a scary place—real or metaphorical—to continue living?

* * * * *

Sometimes being a friend means mastering the art of timing. There is a time for silence. A time to let go and allow people to hurl themselves into their own destiny. And a time to prepare to pick up the pieces when it's all over.   --Octavia Butler (1947-2006)

If you have a friend, then you, yourself, are a friend. It’s a reciprocal relationship, not one-sided, but a meeting of equals. So if you are a friend, you know what it means to remain silent when they “hurl themselves into their own destiny.” Sounds scary, doesn’t it? But we know we can’t live other people’s lives for them, no matter how much we care, how much more experience we have, how clearly we can see the pitfalls they will face. We can “prepare to pick up the pieces,” and I would add, resist the temptation to say I told you so. Even if you never said it in the first place.

* * * * *

One more idea:

We call that person who has lost his father, an orphan; and a widower that man who has lost his wife. But that man who has known the immense unhappiness of losing a friend, by what name do we call him? Here every language is silent and holds its peace in impotence.  -- Joseph Roux (French surgeon, 1780-1854)

Ignore the out-of-date pronouns and focus on the thought.

No one wants to lose a friend. Friends are more precious than silver and gold, than perfect gems, than all the possessions we can ever amass.

Yet, sometimes a friend is lost. To death, yes; but that is not the harshest loss. The loss that stabs our hearts and wrenches tears from our souls is the loss we have caused—or have been unable to prevent—for whatever reason.

John Donne (1572-1631) wrote, “Any man’s death diminishes me.” I would add, “Each friend’s loss takes a valuable part of me, and I’ll never regain it.”

* * * * *

To send you off with a happier thought:

If instead of a gem, or even a flower, we should cast the gift of a loving thought into the heart of a friend, that would be giving as the angels give.  --George MacDonald (1824-1905)

Celebrate your friendships. They may not number in the hundreds or thousands, they may be virtual friends you’ve never seen. True friends are the ones who know you, warts and all . . . .

Blessings,

Thursday's Child

Blessings, my friends-----

Thursday's Child

 HOW MANY GREENS?

Now that our weather has moderated (a little), I'm interested in looking around outside. Not long ago I had an opportunity to drive out into the country a few miles. And everywhere I looked, I saw green.

Do you know how many greens there are in rural areas? Here's a sampling:

• soybean green - the plants are about knee high on me (remember, I'm not very tall), and so close together that they make a nice dense field look as if it's going on forever.
• corn green - corn is definitely much higher than my knee, probably closer to or even above my just-over-five-feet height. And still growing.
• grass green - every farmhouse has a nice lawn, even if it's only a patch in front of the house and runs alongside the road
• tree green - here's where things get tricky. Tree green is only a single color if you're painting trees with your kindergartner or, if you're like a lot of us, lump all trees in the landscape together. After all, that's a forest over there, isn't it? I can't tell what species each is from the road as I putter along at 50 mph (country roads also have speed limits).
• But if you happen to recognize a tree and can name its species, you'll find the maples are different from the oaks and different from willows and birches and pines and  . . . .
• weed green - this is a catch-all category for all the overgrown weeds that line country roads, usually along ditches where mowing is perilous and the consensus is that they can just be left alone.
• garden green - occasionally, from my vehicle, it's possible to see a cultivated garden
• a flower garden will have plants of various heights, often colorful because it's the season for blooming; the greens vary according to the variety--from deep green to dusty sage green, and everything in between.
• a kitchen garden - which provides vegetables and herbs for cooks, may have pole bean green, tomato plant green, parsley green, mint green, asparagus green, lettuce green, basil green, rosemary green, and many other hues, depending on the gardener's tastes and the availability of the plants or seeds. 

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If you'd like to know more about greens--the colors, not the kind you eat--do a search on the Crayola colors. The current Big Box has 120 crayons, and a healthy chunk of them are greens.

Blessings,

Thursday's Child

mostly green

 OASIS

noun

1. A fertile spot in a desert where water is found.

2. A pleasant or peaceful area or period in the midst of a difficult, troubled, or hectic place or situation.

"An oasis of calm in the center of the city"

     synonyms:     refuge, haven, retreat, sanctuary, sanctum, shelter, harbor, asylum

"The park is an oasis filled with half a million flowers and thousands of lights."

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I once received some good advice from a friend: paraphrased, it went something like this: “Do what you can to make your own little corner of the world a better place.”

At the time that advice was given, I was feeling a little sorry for myself. Probably 99.44% of the human race have at one time or another felt a little bit sorry for themselves. And there’s always somebody around willing to give you (1) good advice, (2) a hug, if needed, or (3) a kick in the pants. All three work.

I want to digress a little here—self-pity, though considered a negative state, isn’t all bad. It may be merely a transient state in which to examine oneself, one’s condition, one’s responses—a time of active self-care. Such a time can lead to healing.

You've no doubt heard this many times: “If we don’t take care of ourselves, we’ll have nothing to give others.” In recent years, this advice is given to caregivers who spend a large part of their time taking care of family or friends during a long, perhaps terminal, illness. Caregivers are urged to get out of the house; go to appointments on their own; take an hour or two for shopping at leisure, doing errands. Friends are always available to sit with the patient.

Think about it. An empty vessel holds no balm. We all need to replenish our inner resources.

There are many ways to fill the empty vessel—travel, study; creative endeavors; reading, music; movies. Escapist, you say? Well, maybe; sometimes; and that could be the best way to start filling the vessel of our lives again.

Escapism, like self-pity, is not a permanent address. It’s a place for stepping back; a breathing space. Some folks go on retreats—the kind where you aren’t expected to interact with a lot of other people. Some find solace and peace and healing in prayer or meditation.

None of this has to involve travel or money. Go to the local park and sit in the sun (or shade, if you prefer) and let breezes and bird song wash over you. Or go for a solitary walk, or take your dog with you; or walk with someone who also knows how to be silent. Whatever the season, there’s a place you can go to withdraw from noise. One of my favorite places is the public library. Amazing how other people’s voices disappear when I’m reading at the library.

Breathing space may be as near as your patio, or a quiet room in your house. Make your own oasis. You’ll return to it again and again. It’s a place to just be.

Blessings,

Thursday's Child

THIS 'N' THAT

We could also call this essay "Random Thoughts." Or, "Bits and Pieces." Or, "Snippets."

July is a hard month to write about. It's hot. It's humid. (Today we're promised Heat Index of 105 deg. or more!) I don't have a swimming pool. Air Quality is iffy, so sitting outside in the shade doesn't appeal.

So, I've had to make my own distractions. Best I could come up with this year is--HUMOR!

Following are some quotations from The Best of Bits & Pieces, a 1994 book one of my daughters gave me last Christmas. Ready?

1--Experience is a comb that nature gives us when we are bald. (Chinese proverb)

2--The person with a new idea is a crank until the idea succeeds. (Mark Twain)

3--Life is like a ten-speed bike--most of us have gears we never use. 

4--Learn from the mistakes of others--you can never live long enough to make them all yourself.

5--If everybody obeyed the Ten Commandments there might not be an 11 o'clock news.

6--All mothers are physically handicapped. They have only two hands.

7--The next best thing to solving a problem is finding some humor in it.

8--If you have lived well, laughed often, and loved much, consider yourself a success.

9--The Lord gave us two ends--one to sit on and the other to think with. Success depends on which one we use the most. (Ann Landers)

10--If you're going to give someone a piece of your mind, make sure you can spare it.

11--Don't watch the clock. Do what it does. Keep going. (Sam Levenson)

12--Thinking is the hardest work there is, which is probably the reason why so few engage in it. (Henry Ford)

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So there you go! A round dozen bits and pieces that may make you laugh, or smile, or maybe just think a little differently. 

Have a great week. Blessings,

Thursday's Child

Lots of words here!

THE GRUMPY SEASON

We all know the calendar seasons--Spring, Summer, Autumn, Winter. But there's one that has no set time to appear--has never been studied, that I know of--and entirely wipes out any great things happening in one of the calendar's offerings. I give you--THE GRUMPY SEASON.

First, let me say that the Grumpy Season is entirely individual. Its arrival for me is probably not the same as its showing up in your life.

Second, since the Grumpy Season is individual, it has no official . . . well, anything. No shopping dates. No party schedules or concerts by kids in school bands and choruses. No decorations, no holiday motifs. You can't schedule your wedding for the Eve of the Grumpy Season because, as you've no doubt figured out already, there isn't one!

Third, in my experience, the Grumpy Season is a sly thing--it somehow knows just when I'm least likely to want its interference. Do I want to be grumpy? No! What if I have plans? Too bad for me.

That's enough, I think, to give you the idea. 

So, the trouble is this: I'm sitting at my laptop, fingers poised over the keyboard, ready to pounce on a great idea for this week's blog post. I sit in pouncing mode for minutes on end. Take a break to play Mahjongg solitaire. Come back to the keyboard, wait a few more minutes. Get up for a bottle of water and a walk through the front of the house. This can go on for hours. 

I have never found a way to disengage with the Grumpy Season. It strikes on some kind of whim. I thought by writing about it, sharing it with a larger audience, I might get some relief. So far, zilch.

Maybe this time it'll be a short season--over and done with by tomorrow. Then again--

Wishing you the best--and may your life be filled with good things. (See Winnie the Pooh's thoughts below.)

Blessings,

Thursday's Child

 DO YOU TRANSISH?

[This post first appeared 10 years ago!!! Yes, ten! And when I reread it, with the idea of using it as inspiration for another whirl with Transition, I discovered I didn't want to change a thing. Hmm, wonder does that says about me?]

Although I've watched myself making the transition from being a girl to being a woman, I still feel 15 years old. My reflection disagrees.  Jaime Winstone

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Transition, noun: the process or a period of changing from one state or condition to another.

Synonyms: change, passage, move, transformation, conversion, metamorphosis, alteration, handover, changeover; segue, shift, switch, jump, leap, progression; progress, development, evolution, flux

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Lately I am thinking about transitions (see above). I even perused two dictionaries, both of which did not entirely agree with the above definitions that I culled from the Internet. (There's a lesson in there somewhere.)

About all I came up with is that a transition is a noun: the process or period during which something goes from one state or condition to another.

Change, on the other hand, is mostly used as a verb: to vary, alter, or otherwise modify, transform, etc. something or someone.

We've come to regard transition as a verb (sorry, I didn't mean this to become an English class)--we talk about transitioning from one state to another. The quotation I used at the beginning of this post shows the proper use--making the transition--of the noun.

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Whew! Now that we've got that settled, let's go on with transition as a noun and what it means in Real Life.

In the past I’ve recognized I was going through a transition only after I passed through it. Does that make sense? I think so.

Now, at an advanced age, I am aware of transition as I make it . . . for example, what I’m doing differently now that I have some limitations. Such as:

Tendinitis – I knit or sew for shorter periods of time, in order to keep my

arm from going into spasms.

 

     Lower energy levels – My days are planned around the must-dos so that
     I don’t overdo; three events in one day are the absolute limit. Sometimes
     it’s just one, such as a big family holiday dinner with lots of folks around.

     Memory and Follow-through – I don’t do long-term projects. Small ones
     suit me now because I’ll get them finished. My life is strewn with WIPs
     (Works in Progress) that may never get to the finish line: quilts cut out
     but not sewn, half-knitted items, manuscripts of  the beginnings of stories;
     not to mention boxes of stored items in the garage that may (but probably
     don’t) contain items of value, but should be sorted.

Some days I’m not happy with myself. My Today List is longer than the hours it takes to accomplish them, now that I’m a tortoise and not a hare. (Did I used to get all that stuff done in one day?) I go to bed vaguely dissatisfied with unfinished projects, items on my list that didn’t get checked off.

Then I remember all the things that I did do—perhaps small things that never made it to The List: an email to a friend I don’t see very often; a phone call from one of the kids; bills paid so I don’t get penalties; bird feeders filled and suet put out. If I can recall these things, then I realize I’m not totally inert. I may not move as fast as I used to (Tortoise Syndrome), but I do move. And I remember that there’s always another day (probably) in which to do some more.

I suspect the real point of transitions has to do with perspective--how does a person react to the change from one state or condition to another? Here's a glimpse at my perspectives:

I'm not crazy about having tendinitis, which can be treated, but after a while its effects are definitely limiting to some of my activities. Should I give up knitting? Quit sitting at a sewing machine to make quilts for charitable giving?
     No, but I don't have to give myself impossible deadlines.

A super-busy day on the calendar has me almost dreading it. If I don't have enough energy to get through an extra activity, what's the worst thing that will happen?
     I'll take a nap when I get home--or go to bed earlier--or give myself a
     "day off" the next day to rest up.

Some of my half-baked projects can be finished--by someone else, perhaps; or by me, if they morph into something besides what they first were intended to be.
     Nothing is cast in stone; I can change my mind without penalty--after all,
     it's my project.

Transitions aren't good--or bad. They simply are. They signal the change from one state or condition to the next. (See definitions at the beginning of this post.)

Sometimes they're happy changes--from being a single gal to being a married one. Or from Mom to Grandma. Sometimes they're less desirable--aging with some of the health problems (and wrinkles and grey hair and gravity problems) that may accrue as we mature.

But if we're still alive, we're always in transition. Think about it.

Blessings,

Thursday's Child

 

HAPPY BIRTHDAY!

In another day, we'll celebrate the birthday of our nation--July 4th. You can google Declaration of Independence and get the whole text, plus the names of all who signed it.

Today, though, I want to talk about personal birthdays.

      As an aside--if you're a purist, you'll call it the birth anniversary. Fine with me. But I've always called it a birthday, so you'll just have to make allowances for me.

Anyway! Birthdays in my family have always been special times. Now that we are growing in numbers--four generations add up to a larger number every year--I seldom get to celebrate birthdays with my children, grandchildren, or greatgrandchildren. But the greeting card industry is still in business in part because I remember everyone with a card.

There are folks who say, "I never celebrate my birthday." Or, "I just ignore birthdays." Well, that's their choice. But I like birthdays for one simple reason: It's a day that celebrates the birth of a person I know and have affection for and wish them well in their journey.

A friend of mine recently celebrated his birthday. A few years ago he told me he doesn't add a year to his age each time--he started subtracting a year! He's now the same age as his child, or maybe a year younger! (By the new measurement.)

If the only reason people want to ignore their birthdays is so they don't have to acknowledge their age, I'm afraid it's a lost cause. The motor vehicle bureau has your number. So does Social Security (if you're qualified). Your doctor and all other medical personnel and institutions.

So, whether you celebrate the day you became an independent, breathing, resident on this planet, or decide to ignore it--welcome anyway. Some of us wish you a happy birthday!

Blessings to all,

Thursday's Child

 

  PLAYING THE OLD CARD

Bacon: 1561-1626

[Took a walk down Memory Lane, also known as my blog post archives, and came upon this one published in June of 2022. Obviously, I'm even older now than I was in '22, so it was interesting to read my thoughts from three years ago. Happy to say, I'm still on board with the subject of aging and "playing the old card," when need be.]

Last week I was loading my groceries into the trunk of my car when a youngish (hard to tell these days, but I'll say mid-30s, at a guess)--anyway, a youngish employee of the store smiled and said, "I'll take your cart."

I had parked very near a cart-return, my usual plan so I don't spend much time on foot in between vehicles, but I agreed she could take my cart. I thanked her.

As I drove away, I thought about that little exchange. She was the age of my grandchildren. She was an employee of the store. She had a nice smile and a pleasant manner. And I was quite happy to have her look at my gray hair and walking shoes and decide it would be a good thing to offer to take my cart back to the store.

The success of our little exchange was her attitude--she came across as genuinely happy to help me, but she wasn't going to push it.

Best of all--I didn't have to play the old card. She did it with grace and style, and I left smiling because I'd had help without being made to feel old.

Let's have some definitions. Here are some of the ways people have made me feel old:

--handicapped - helping without asking
--deaf - talking too loud or very slowly
--feeble - taking my arm when I don't want help
--worn out - saying "you poor thing" 
--slow - sighing with impatience (my perception)
--blind - telling me what I'm seeing
--mentally impaired - not giving me time to think

Nearly anybody 20 or more years younger than I am can move faster, think about a dozen things at once, and put on a show of strength. Long, long ago I gave up trying to keep up with the younger folks. Not because I'd lost all my super-powers, but because I refused to compete. 

Even when I don't play the old card, I know other people will. They'll also help me when I don't want help, but I've grown outspoken enough to tell them no, thank you. (This is important if you have an arthritic shoulder that shrieks when someone tries to dress you, such as, help you put your coat on.) And if I can do it with a smile, we're both happy--they offered, I declined with a pleasant look on my face (and no pain in that shoulder).

When I get fed up with trying to explain that I'm not as old as they think I am, I entertain myself with some of the great sayings of famous people. Hope you enjoy these.

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          Old age is like everything else. To make a success of it, you've got 
          to start young. 
          Theodore Roosevelt (American statesman, writer, US President
          1901-1909)


          The excitement of learning separates youth from old age. As long as 
          you're learning you're not old. 
          Rosalyn S. Yalow (American medical physicist 1921-2011)


          The secret of genius is to carry the spirit of the child into old age, which 
          means never losing your enthusiasm. 
          Aldous Huxley (British writer, novelist, philosopher 1894-1963)

          One of the many pleasures of old age is giving things up. 
          Malcolm Muggeridge (British Journalist 1903-1990)


          [I especially relate to Mr. Muggeridge--lately I've grown very partial
          to giving things up.]

          Scripture is filled with examples of men and women whom God 

          used late in life, often with great impact - men and women who 

          refused to use old age as an excuse to ignore what God wanted 

          them to do. 

          Billy Graham (American evangelist 1918-2018)

          Old age is when the liver spots show through your gloves. 

          Phyllis Diller (American comedienne 1917-2012)

Whatever your age, have a blessed week!

 KNOW WHAT TOMORROW IS?

If you said, "Summer" you're right on the button.

My calendars agree, tomorrow is the first day of Summer. But let me tell you, Summer as a season comes when it comes.

In my youth, and we know that was in the long, long ago, Summer arrived when school was out. Right about Memorial Day. Warm days (or hot, humid ones!) were June, July, and August. Summer was over on Labor Day, which is when Autumn began. Also, not coincidentally, school started.

We didn't have to look at a calendar to know when the season changed. We just knew.

I miss that sense of seasons connected to my personal life--the school year. Later, it was the school year for my children.

I suspect this is a good example of that Golden Age--the one that never was but always is. Probably didn't exist in fact, but is always in our memories.

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My Summer days were mainly for reading. I walked to the Carnegie Public Library in Charleston, Illinois, to check out two books. Read most of one on the way home, finished it that night. Read the other one the next day, and returned both books. Checked out two more. Repeat. 

That's what I remember most about Summer--a time of uninterrupted reading. If I'd had siblings, mine would have been a different story. But I didn't, so I had companions from books.

Wishing you a good Summer. Hope it lives up to your expectations.

Blessings,

Thursday's Child

 MY WEATHER RANT FOR JUNE

(and a gratitude)

There is something wrong with the weather. I go to bed, too warm, hope the a/c (now on its last legs) will keep things comfy overnight. I keep a lightweight cover nearby. Make sure my summer-weight pjs are clean. So far, so good. All is well until a little after midnight. Then I start to notice I'm chilly. Grab a cover--a/c not running--feet feeling like blocks of ice. When I realize my nose is cold, I'm up, out of bed, grabbing whatever additional cover is handy. My alarm clock (which knows all) tells me the temp is in the nose-chilling range.

By the time I get warmed up a little (the extra covers are doing their job very nicely), I can drop off again. The alarm wakes me (if I've remembered to set it) and I see there's light outside--a lot of light. Definitely morning. My room is cool, but not cold. Hall is warmer. Kitchen warmer. Coffee will revive me. I think things are going well.

Then warmer becomes really warm. As the sun makes its way around the house (I know, the sun doesn't really move)--every room warms up. A lot. The a/c unit wheezes and groans (it is not a hundred years old, but it acts like it) and tries its best to keep the temp comfortable. I start taking off layers of clothes.

By the time the day is thoroughly established, say, ten AM, the house is not just warm, it's hot. The weather app on my phone calmly announces high temps today. And for the next day. AND the next!

Now I'm not complaining about the hot weather. Not exactly. It's nearly summer, after all. But what I am having trouble with is the nighttime lows--highs in the day time of 80s; lows at night in the 50s.

It has occurred to me (often) that I live in the wrong place. Then I realize that I've lived in northeast Indiana for over 60 years and I don't remember this yo-yo weather lasting so long.

If you've read this far--and if you have a solution that you know will work, please let me know. I've done my part and ordered a new a/c unit, which is supposed to be installed next week. If I live through that, I'll let you know. I also have floor fans and ice-cold water.

THE GRATITUDE - As much as I rant about the weather (like, 24/7), I am grateful that our weather does not include the word "dangerous" or "threatening." I don't go to bed with one ear cocked for the tornado siren, signalling immediate action. I'm not in the path of wildfires or tsunamis. And beyond all that, I am grateful that my local heating and a/c guys are scheduled for next week to upgrade my cooling system to 21st Century standards. Could be worse, right?

Until next time--hope you're keeping comfortable with this abominable weather (just my opinion). And I wish you all the blessings you so richly deserve.

Thursday's Child

 JUNE 6

1968 - Robert F. Kennedy, age 42, dies of wounds sustained the previous day when he was shot in Los Angeles; he has just finished a speech celebrating his victory in the California presidential primary.




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1944 - D-Day ("Operation Overlord") - Allies storm the Normandy coast; all five beaches are secured by the Allies. Soldiers from the US, UK, and Canada lose their lives.

". . . . . . by day’s end, 155,000 Allied troops–Americans, British and Canadians–had successfully stormed Normandy’s beaches and were then able to push inland. Within three months, the northern part of France would be freed . . . ." https://history.com/this-day-in-history/d-day

Note:  The National D-Day Memorial Foundation lists 4,414 names of Allied personnel who died on D-Day. This number was arrived at after intense study of various official sources and is considered a more accurate count than the estimates usually cited.

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I've read a lot about World War II; I've seen some movies set during that time. And though a large number of people liked the movie Saving Private Ryan, I couldn't get past the first three or four minutes. Never mind Stephen Spielberg directing, never mind Tom Hanks acting. Some part of me seemed to be in that time and in that place. I couldn't take it.

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I'm also not very political. I don't keep up with what's going on and argue with anybody who is on the "other side" from me. In fact, I find it satisfying that there is more than one side, more than one way to look at life, at our country, at the ways we govern. 

Today's post doesn't come with a happy ending. There is no ending. Wars come and go, and come again. Our country tries, as best it can, to help make things better. That may not happen, but then again, if no one tries, it surely will not happen.

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"Lest we forget" is appropriate at any time, not just Veterans' Day or Remembrance Day. If remembering the sadness, the pain, the horror is too much, then we can remember the good that was intended, the kindness of those who gave their lives. And give thanks for the love they showed, for us and others.

 THINGS THAT MAKE ME HAPPY

[As May fades away into June, I want to celebrate some beautiful things in my area of the planet. This essay first appeared three years ago, and it's word-for-word what I see and feel now. Please enjoy.]

Yesterday I drove through the countryside from my home to another small town to meet friends for lunch. Our meeting place is about halfway between our two houses.

And I saw many lovely things, Nature's offerings for our enjoyment:

• more flowering trees than I remembered from other years--pink ones, white ones, tall ones, short ones.
• yellow "flowers" along the roadside--at 50 mph I couldn't quite figure them out; then after a while I recognized a few of the yellow heads had gone to seed and then it was obvious--dandelions! I even love to see the ones with fluffy heads, though not in my yard.
• also yellow somethings in the unplowed fields, which I seemed to recall were a flowering mustard plant; not, apparently, the mustard bush of Biblical times, because these never get get more than six inches or so above the ground.
• in town, trees are outdoing each other to see who has the most leaves with the most green--or red, in some cases (Japanese maples, some of them).

Back home, I discovered birds of many feathers had discovered our recently filled feeders. There'll be another filling session this weekend no doubt. One suet cake is already down to crumbs. But then, this is the breeding season, and birds need more protein during this time.

On my front porch hangs a new flowering basket of fuchsia, a Mother's Day gift from my Ohio daughter. Elsewhere in the yard peonies, resurrection lily, narcissi, hostas, and some things I don't remember the names of are all not only up, they're straining skyward. Others won't bloom until fall, but foliage is already gung-ho. The rhubarb looks like a pie in the making.

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A lot of little things make me happy. Those flowers and trees and blooming weeds don't need to be appreciated. But their exuberant color adds joy to my days. We've had plenty of cloudy, rainy, stormy days already, and there'll be more. What I see in Nature reminds me that clouds and rain and storms aren't all there is to life. And thanks be for that.

Other things that make me happy--lunch with friends; the little phone bag my friend made and gave me when we had lunch yesterday; air conditioning to help us sleep on these suddenly hot nights; summer clothes that still fit this year; new books to read; library services (I'm in love with Evergreen, who keeps providing me with DVDs of a series no longer being streamed on the channels I get).

The worst part of spring--oho! you didn't think I'd say anything bad about spring, did you?--well, there is a part I don't appreciate: Allergies. Fortunately they don't last forever (it just seems like it). And I wouldn't be without the flowers that provide the pollen that drives my sinuses and eyes and nose crazy. What a drab world that would be.

Better to celebrate the things that make me happy, because then I can pass along some of my joy in Nature and her bounty to other folks who may have lost their zest for spring and flowers and leafing-out trees.

Wishing you happy days in your life!

Til next time,

Blessings from Thursday's Child