BAD DAY? STAY TUNED....

If you've ever had a really bad day--what a friend of mine calls a crap-sandwich day--then you might find some relief with a visit from Thursday's Child today.

Let me say first--yes, I, too, have bad days--always have, probably always will. BUT! They're not the end of the story. They just happen. To you. To me. To everybody. (Don't let anybody try to put one over on you and say they never have a bad day. Just smile, pretend you didn't hear, and change the subject.)

So if we all recognize that bad days will happen, no matter how we hold our mouth or what little sayings we tell ourselves to chase away the bogies or where we go to hide in the dark under a big cover until it all goes away--never mind all that. There are actual things we can do to make a bad day less bad. Ready?

LIVE - go ahead with your usual life; on a bad day, you'll no doubt have bumps in the road, winds that pick you up and toss you around, rain that never stops, no matter how much you pray (remember Noah? 40 days and 40 nights? what we have is a drizzle to his troubles). And you'll discover--and billions of people before us have discovered--that the road will smooth out, the wind will die down, and the rain will stop. Maybe not all at once. Maybe not for several more crap-sandwich days, but it will all go away.

• You have to trust me on this one--I've lived long enough to have it happen many, many times. The technique is: Hang in there!

LOVE - yep, even on a bad day, you can find something to love. A movie on Netflix? A book you got for your birthday and wanted to start but stuff got in the way? The new dog who came to live with you because you know you have enough love for it and that's what it needs right now?

• Here's a thought--go through a drawer or box of your stuff that you haven't looked at in, oh, these many moons/years/decades--don't do anything with it, just look at it. If it's not a bunch of cool stuff you like "just because," then leave it and get out another one. Eventually you'll find something--a love letter from a friend, a dried up bunch of flowers from some little guy or gal in your family who thought you could use a pretty posy, one earring (left from a pair) that recalls a special event where you lost the other one, or maybe even an old diary or journal you'd forgotten about, and when you start reading it, you're transported back in time to who you were all those years ago.

LAUGH - it doesn't have to be a true bad-bad-bad day; it can just be a day when you'd rather not be checking in at the hospital for a 15-minute procedure that will take up most of your day (due to leftover anesthesia in your system). On such a day, here are some humorous (in my opinion) thoughts to get your brain on another track:

     (Sign on the window when I checked 

     in for the above 15 minutes of 

     oblivion)

• “My mother always used to say: The older you get, the better you get, unless you’re a banana.”
  

  —Rose (Betty White, on The Golden Girls)

• “I want my children to have all the things I couldn't afford. Then I want to move in with them.”
  —Phyllis Diller

• “You know you’ve reached middle age when you’re cautioned to slow down by your doctor, instead of by the police.” —Joan Rivers

And if you're so inclined, here's one you can share with your grandchildren:

    Knock, knock.....

    Who’s there?

    Water.

    Water who?

    Water you doing telling jokes right now? Don’t you have things to do?

But if all else fails, go back to bed and get up on a better day.

Blessings,

Thursday's Child

 TOUGH TIMES . . .

Everybody has tough times . . . I've never met anybody who lived in a land of eternal springtime, little birdies singing, flowers blooming their heads off--and honestly, I don't think I'd actually believe it if I did meet somebody like that.

But I have met lotsa folks who have tough times of varying intensity and length, and from them, I've learned a little about how to navigate those rocky places in life.

Often, I've had mentors from my churches. They prayed with me. They recommended books and authors whose writings gave me a different point of view. They showed me how to turn difficult times into possibilities for growth. And the best thing of all, over the years I've developed a habit of looking for those ways on my own.

If you've been reading Thursday's Child for a while, you know I spend a lot of time reading. One of my favorite writers has been, and is, C. S. Lewis. I first knew his work when I was an undergrad English major--we used one of his books, The Four Loves, in a Middle English course. A few years later, I made his acquaintance again when my oldest daughter brought home The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, the first of the Narnia series. And since that time, I've read many of his books on religious subjects.

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Recently, I've collected thoughts from various sources. Around Mother's Day, The New York Times ran an article about advice people had received from their moms. What fun to read! Some of those sayings I'd heard in my young life--things like "walk in the other person's shoes before you judge." 

But the one that stood out for me, and that I'd never heard before, was this: "If you try, you either win or you learn." Got that? Win or learn--not win or lose. In similar words, I've been reading that sentiment, "win or learn," for the past several years--mostly from visual artists, writers, and  teachers, who are absolutely convinced that mistakes are good things, because they help you learn something you didn't know before.

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Last week I watched a video on YouTube by an American artist I follow, Ellen Crimi-Trent. This was a follow-up video about her father. A few months ago, Ellen and her brother were helping their artist father downsize his studio; he had hundreds (literally!) of paintings, some framed, some not; and he was no longer able to paint due to poor health. The family members were clearing out the studio, selling paintings locally and online. They'd done this once already this year; now they were having a second sale, and the end was, apparently not in sight. Their father, the artist, could no longer hold a paint brush. I'm guessing he's in his 80s. 

At the end of the video, Ellen closed with this thought, "Take the time and space to enjoy every moment that you have." That really hit me where I live.

I wish you the same--time and space.

Blessings,

Thursday's Child

 

 REMEMBER . . .

In a few days we will celebrate, as a nation, the traditional    Memorial Day. We will honor those who have fallen in the service of our country, as well as those in other countries who also gave their lives.

And although COVID is less of a threat than when I wrote this post three years ago, our thoughts turn also to all the medical people who have died in the battle to save lives, in many places in our world.

Our best and highest calling is to remember . . .

• our loved ones, whom we no longer see
• the contributions they made to our lives, and to Life
• and to share our memories with those who have come after us

And while we're remembering, let us honor our friends and family who have died, some of them many years ago, perhaps in battles with disease and aging, but having lived their lives and whom we knew. They live on in our memories and in ourselves. If we share them, they live on in the lives of people we may never meet, but whose lives can be enriched by our memories.

So let us remember . . . and give thanks.

Here is a quotation from Elisabeth Kubler-Ross:

Blessings,

Thursday's Child

 YOU KNOW IT'S A GOOD DAY WHEN . . .

I had a good day not long ago. Nothing stupendous. Nothing profound. Just an all-round good day.

When I searched for quotations to share with you, I found many were totally attached to what the person did for a living. Since I'm not a sports fan in any way, shape, or form, and I don't go to movies or even look forward to new ones on Netflix or other streaming media, that limited my search right away. 

So what I did--I fell back on quotes from people whose work I knew, or, in one case, a quotation by a movie director whose words made sense to me. Forgive me for going heavy on the side of writers, but remember--that's what I do most of all . . . write.

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Some people go to bed at night thinking, 'That was a good day.' I am one of those who worries and asks, 'How did I screw up today?' Tom Hanks

The stories that I want to tell, especially as a director, don't necessarily have a perfect ending because, the older you get, the more you appreciate a good day versus a happy ending. Drew Barrymore

Comedy comes out of everyone's worst day. No one writes a sitcom episode about everyone having a good day. It's always about someone being locked out of their house or someone being dumped or whatever. Jim Jefferies

Catch me on a good day, I think half of my books aren't too bad. Catch me on a bad day, I think I've never written a good line. Dennis Lehane

I used to be able to write five pages a day, every day, no problem. Now a good day is five or four pages, and that's from 9:30 A.M. until 6 P.M. Elmore Leonard

A good day to me is writing from 6 A.M. 'til noon with a break to take my daughter to school. After lunch, if I still feel the momentum, I'll hit it again. Michael Connelly

And another one from Michael Connelly: The fulfillment I get from a good day of writing is addictive and will always bring me back the next day. Michael Connelly

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Hope you're having a good day. If not, I wish you a better day tomorrow, or the next day, or . . . whenever. As some of the above quotations indicated, it might take a bad day to make us realize what a good day really is, when it comes along. Others have said we should make it a good day. Something to ponder.

Blessings,

Thursday's Child

IT'S ALL ABOUT PERSPECTIVE

We don't have to be an artist or a photographer to recognize the importance of Perspective in the world around us.

There’s a line in The Golden Spiders, by Rex Stout, that I really like:

Archie Goodwin is badgering Nero Wolfe to do some work:

“You’ve always said it’s not enough to earn your money—you have to feel like you’ve earned your money. So let’s earn our money.”

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[Note: This post is not about making money. Sorry. You really don't want to get advice from me on making money. Trust me on this.]

Some time ago I had a day when I did several things, and accomplished a lot, for me. By the end of that day I had the satisfaction of time well spent. I felt—emotionally—as if I’d accomplished a lot. Some of that satisfaction came from knowing I’d finished something: a task, one large part of a task, or even a small step.

(I won’t tell you what all I did—I do hate to see your eyes glaze over.)

I recall a blog post by the late Writer/Teacher Louise De Salvo entitled “Little by Little” that  explored what it means to make progress on a project when you have a debilitating disease or condition. Louise De Salvo never knows ahead of time how much energy she will have the next day—maybe none. Maybe only a short time to do a little writing. If it’s 10 minutes, then she uses those 10 minutes. If it’s an hour, then she writes for an hour. And the work gets done, “little by little.”

I found her blog post inspiring. Too often I sigh and ignore the little bits of time that could be used to move a project forward.

Do I really have to wait for two hours of free time? Isn’t there something I can do in whatever time slot I have available?

The late Nancy Zieman, host of a long-running quilting/sewing TV show, Sewing with Nancy,  published a book called 10-20-30 Minutes to Quilt. There’s another inspiration. For each quilt she lists the steps: what can be done in 10 minutes (choose fabrics, perhaps), 20 minutes (cut fabrics), and in 30 minutes (assemble a few quilt blocks).

Here's how I figure it--my job: Look at my Today List and estimate how many minutes each task will take.

Besides tasks, I like to build in time to rest between, say, starting laundry and tidying up the kitchen. This isn’t lying down for a nap kind of rest; this is doing something sitting down—writing checks, knitting a few rows of an afghan, looking through a music book for pieces I can re-learn. Then back on my feet for the next activity.

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The true issue at hand, I believe, is Perspective. Remember the old glass half-full vs. the glass half-empty? Time perceived as "too little to do much with" is still the same amount of time perceived as "just enough time to do one step of that task."

One of the most positive people I know is my primary care doctor. We discussed time one day--I think the subject was time to read--and she said two minutes might be all the time she had but she'd use those two minutes to skim an article.

Perspective--what you see from where you stand--has a lot to do with perception. (Thank you, C. S. Lewis!)

If you're standing in your own way, you won't see anything but your own reflection. If you get out of your own way, you might see something new--or something old in a new way--or something old that can be morphed into something new.

Perspective influences perception, which leads to possibilities.

There you go--three words that begin with P. Juggle them and see what you come up with.

And have a Perceptive week, developed by looking from where you stand, into a future of possibilities.

Blessings,

Thursday's Child

  A MOM BY ANY OTHER NAME...

As we near the annual Mother's Day celebration, I've been thinking about women who have been "mom" to me throughout my life.

There's first, naturally, my biological mom, whose name was Doris. I was her third child, but the only one who survived beyond a few months. From her I learned several important lessons:
   --put yourself in the other person's place
   --be friendly
   --don't hurt another person's feelings
   --share what you have
   --take care of your belongings

Life for my mom was not easy; she was divorced in a time when such action was frowned upon. She had to work to help support herself and me. We often had to make-do with whatever we had because we couldn't afford another whatever-it-was. I didn't know any of this when it was going on. Much of it became clear when I had children and experienced first hand what it meant to do without or make-do. My mom died when I was 15.

My next mom was my mother-in-law, Vira. She and I just clicked. Her house was where we often met on Friday or Saturday night for pizza--she and I made it while the guys talked in the other room. We were on the same wavelength, Vira and I. If she needed a utensil for use at the stove, I was handing it to her as she turned to ask. She was creative with fabric, liked to read, collected recipes, all of which I related to; and she played bridge with her lady friends, which never appealed to me. (Mainly because I couldn't get my head around the rules and nuances of bridge. Still can't.) She died when I was 27.

Years later I met Treva, one of the pillars of the small country church my family attended. She had one daughter, but apparently longed for a larger family. So she "adopted" all the 30-somethings in that church--boys and girls--as her own. No matter how downhearted we felt during the week, a Sunday morning of Treva's love and acceptance put things right again. Treva lived long enough to see me into my 50s.

By that time, I'd reconciled myself to being the mom, and not having one of my own in the flesh. Then I reconnected with Aunt Virginia, my mom's youngest sister, and the last of the 10 Jenkins children. 


Aunt Virginia had two little boys--who naturally became grown-up men--but she never had little girls of her own. All my female cousins and I were happy to help her out. For several years my oldest daughter and I made an annual trip to Illinois for a weekend with Virginia and "her girls." We visited cemeteries where our great-greats were buried; we shopped at Walmart; we ate one meal out so we could visit with some cousins who couldn't come to the house; we admired Virginia's garden, and ate whatever produce was ripe and ready. Virginia lived a long life, and I was in my 60s when she died.

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What is it that defines a "mom"?

Think of the people you know who've adopted children--are they any less a mom (or dad) because they aren't the biological parent?

Think of the women (since we're talking about moms today) who never married, but who spent their lives in service to children, young people, and adults: teachers, nurses and doctors, social workers, day-care people. . . .

Here's a partial list of characteristics I associate with moms:

--they care
--they want the best for you
--they laugh or cry with you
--they think of you often (you know this because they tell
   you they do)
--they have wisdom, in spades, from years of living longer
   than you have
--they share: ideas, advice, money, material goods, their physical help
--they let you make your own mistakes (they made theirs, and 
   learned from them)
--they let you go when they'd rather keep you safely with them, and 
   they keep you when you've no place to go

Make yourself a list. It will be based on how you've come to know the woman or women you call "mom."

Then take some time each day to give thanks for "mom." 

Blessings,

Thursday's Child

  IN CASE YOU WONDERED...

Or, even if you didn't wonder . . . today we're going to explore a phrase that seems to be in regular use in our country: OLD SCHOOL.

Know how long it's been around? Go ahead, have a guess--10 years? 20 years? Mid-to-late 20th Century?

Nope, all wrong. My Oxford Dictionary & English Usage lists 1749 as the first use. That's right--not a typo--1749. That's more than two and a half centuries ago!

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Now, in case you never figured out what Old School means--and even if you don't really care (I have a lot of things like that in my life)--here are a couple of definitions/usages:

1: adhering to traditional policies or practices--an old-school coach

2: characteristic or evocative of an earlier or original style, manner, or form--old-school music

Old School is also used to describe "adherents of traditional policies and practices."

I sense you're muttering to yourself--why is she going on about this, anyway? Well, I'll tell you why.

As an example, some time ago I finished reading a mystery by Alan Hunter, a Brit, who wrote the George Gently series. In the very first book in the series the term "old school" was used to describe Chief Inspector Gently's methods--he thinks of himself as a traditionalist, following prescribed protocols for detection. The out-of-town police force he's been sent to assist have their own tried-and-true methods--you can almost hear them saying, "That's not the way we do things down/up/over/out here." So he's branded "old school." (Incidentally, he isn't unduly bothered by their opinions of him. Good thing, too, because he later uncovers the true villain.) (Not only that, he isn't a "letter of the law" kind of detective; he uses what he has, mainly his brain and his intuition. He says police work isn't only science, it's an art, too.)

Alan Hunter's debut in the crime novel genre was in 1955. When I came to "old school" in a book as old as that (admittedly, I am older than that myself), I was intrigued. Really? Used in 1955?

That's what sent me off to look in whatever reference books I own to see if there was any chance the term was around longer ago. 

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I'm not sure why you need to know about a 270-plus-year-old phrase. Not sure why I need to know either.

Could it all boil down to how we view ourselves? If it's a new word, a new phrase, or simply a new way of using that word/phrase, did we just invent it, say in the past few years? Did we hear it on TV, or read it in a printed work, or come across it on the Internet (that repository of practically everything you'd ever want to know, or not)?

Are we so vain that we think all "new" things are really new? Wouldn't surprise me a bit.

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But we might remember the following:

     That which has been is what will be, That which is done is 

     what will be done, And there is nothing new under the sun. 

          Ecclesiastes 1:9 (New King James Version)

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While you ponder and mull this week, enjoy our shift into the month of May--springtime is moving right along! 

Til next time,

Blessings!

Thursday's Child

APRIL 23RD...

I have a thing about the 23rd day of the month--any month. Probably, it all stems from my birthday, which is the 23rd day of a winter month.

Today is April 23rd. Here's what I gleaned from a short trawl of the Internet:

 

Know who this handsome devil is? Born in 1654, and so far as is known, also died on this day in 1616. If you guessed William Shakespeare, you're a winner!

You probably know the Bard's work from high school English classes. Or from well-known (or well-worn) phrases that have made their home in our everyday language. "To be or not to be," is one of his (from Hamlet).

Other birthday folks you might know:

Max Planck, 1858 - German theoretical physicist, known for his work in quantum theory

Shirley Temple, 1928 - American child actor; then later Shirley Temple Black, former Chief of Protocol of the United States

Roy Orbison, 1936 - singer, songwriter, guitarist, pioneered new music styles in the age of rock 'n' roll

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Here are some interesting happenings on April 23rd:

• 1789: George Washington moved into the Franklin House (New York) which was the first presidential residence
• 1914: Wrigley Field saw its first Major League Baseball game
• 1954: Hank Aaron hit the first home run in his MLB career
• 1984: Discovery of the virus causing AIDS was announced
• 2005: First video uploaded to YouTube, "Met at the zoo"

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If April 23rd didn't ring your chimes, do a quick search of your own favorite date. Just type in, "what happened on _____ in history?"

See how easy that was? And fun! You never know what you'll have show up on your screen. And besides, it's cheap entertainment, no shipping costs, and nobody has to know (if you keep it to yourself).

Blessings,

Thursday's Child

  In Just-

spring

[A re-posting you've seen before. . . I'm going through a rough patch (it's a spring thing) at present and I'm a little distracted. April is the month my mother died, and to this day, 70 years later, I recall those last days and weeks. They fade a little, but they never go away. And I'm okay with that. Re-reading this post has helped me--I can now begin to celebrate the opening-up of another spring.]

This is what I call the e e cummings season, "mud-luscious" and "puddle-wonderful."

Just-spring here in Northeast Indiana comes with a full basket of tulips and dandelions, mowed yards, birds courting, bushes in red and green and yellow, trees in pink and white and magenta and yellow-green.

Landscaping is newly mulched. Gardeners grow antsy waiting for the frost-warnings to lift so they can be the first kid on their block with annuals shoving each other aside in hanging baskets and flower boxes and any little patch of soil that doesn’t have anything in it.

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Spring returns every year (March 20th or 21^st in the northern hemisphere), with new growth in the earth; with hope for new beginnings (Easter is a spring festival, you know); with beauty so abundant you feel it will run right over you.

It’s overflowing and everywhere. And it’s for everyone.

Spring (with apologies to Janne Robinson for her lovely poem) doesn’t care: whether you’re black, white, Hispanic, or other. If you’re super-sensitive to pollen or criticism or penicillin. If you’re grieving or rejoicing. If you’re too old to, too young to, or don’t give a damn. If your income exceeds your outgo or you have no income worth talking about. Spring breathes on us, whether we like it or not.

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All the therapy in the world won’t take away Spring. All the fervent prayers, tears, threats, tantrums—no effect on Spring.

We’ll have to deal with Spring--endure it, embrace it; enjoy it, avoid it. Spring doesn’t care.

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If you see a white-haired woman in a black sweatshirt and New Balance walking shoes, carrying a box of Kleenex, that’s probably me. I’ll sneeze from car to grocery store and back again.

Spring doesn’t care.

But I do.

Celebrate Spring! And I hope you enjoy what She has to offer.

  ATTITUDES & GRATITUDES

When I was young, long before I could drive a car, I rode with my parents. If we wanted to get somewhere quickly, we took what my dad called "hard roads"--meaning, the surface of the road was probably concrete, or maybe asphalt. We called asphalt "the black top" because that's what it looked like.

If it didn't matter how long the trip took, or if the people we were going to visit lived 'way off from civilization (or so it seemed to  my young mind), we drove on gravel roads. These were supposedly maintained by the township where the roads were located. Sometimes they were.

I bring this up because whenever we found ourselves on the lesser improved roads, we often hit a rough place. Literally. The road might be deeply rutted, due to heavy rains followed by vehicles, trucks or wagons, that sank down in the mire. Somehow or other, we always got through.

Right now, a lot of folks are going through a rough place. The way ahead is uncertain, though we hope there's no detour or sliding off the road into a water-filled ditch. Metaphorically speaking, you understand.

I don't recall my parents and I ever had a bad outcome to our jaunts. Somehow or other, we always came through--maybe a little muddy on the outside, or possibly with a flat tire out of the ordeal. Overall, though, not so bad. Maybe that's the genesis of my basically positive attitude--we always came through.

So today, in case you're in, or nearing, a rough place, I'm sharing some thoughts that may make the going a little easier.

First, Attitude:

• You cannot control what happens to you, but you can control your attitude toward what happens to you, and in that, you will be mastering change rather than allowing it to master you.( Brian Tracy)

• The secret of genius is to carry the spirit of the child into old age, which means never losing your enthusiasm. (Aldous Huxley)

And now, Gratitude:

• Gratitude makes sense of our past, brings peace for today, and creates a vision for tomorrow. (Melody Beattie)
• As we express our gratitude, we must never forget that the highest appreciation is not to utter words, but to live by them. (John F. Kennedy)

I'll give Winston Churchill the last word:

Until next time,

Blessings

Thursday's Child

 SPRING ALBUM!

Tomorrow will be two full weeks of Spring! Some years there's not much to cheer about in our yard . . . a too-cold or too-warm winter can influence the new growth. But this year--! WOW!

I'm sharing my pics of the yard with you--not because it's a prize-winner, but because--well, just because I can. In a mere two weeks (which included rain, wind, more rain, even more wind, sun, no sun--you name it, we had it)--as I say, in two weeks, shrubs and bushes and flowers came out and greeted us. Enjoy!

Resurrection Lilies - leaves only at this time. The leaves die down and stems--with lilies--arrive in August. Stay tuned!

Lilac Buds - outside my kitchen window

This Lilac was given to me by my son several years ago; it had to be transplanted from its former location, and now seems quite happy mixed up with an old-fashioned rose and some formerly disruptive peppermint. The three of them appear to enjoy companionship--I never saw it coming, but I'm all for it!

Recognize this one? Baby rhubarb . . . in a few weeks we'll be cutting back the red stalks for freezing. They make a wonderful fruit crisp, mixed with blueberries and chopped apple. Pretty, too.

The only blooming flowers at the moment are daffodils and narcissus. They're not long-lasting, but they do make a pretty addition to the green of spring.

What I like most about the flowers, shrubs, and trees that bud out and eventually bloom is that they show us what patience is all about. They don't show up in full dress--they go through the processes they are born to do. I could use a little more patience (sometimes). I'll have to pay more attention to my garden.

Blessings,

Thursday's Child

  

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!