practice makes perfect - or at least a dent

In the flurry of retirement, I got four different journals as going away gifts! It is a message I take with honor, laughter, and a slight stirring of fear. Before this when people urged from different directions, "why aren't you writing more?", I would always dodge the bullet and say, " I will when I retire."

Now what do I say?!

I get so inspired throughout the day and as quickly as the thought comes, it flits away unless nailed to something concrete like paper or screen. Yes, one can have native talent, but the art comes from discipline and practice. 

I'm pretty sure I'll start next week....! I have four journals to fill!

Marching on

Again the world is stirring.

The magnolia buds are ready to shout and the forsythia has been singing for days. Three days ago when I was walking in a blinding snowstorm, I knew the crocus and jonquils were huddled below the whiteness. I hope we have finally untangled the reins of winter/spring and glory is just around the corner.

How could it be this exciting year after year?

Freedom

Retirement.

It has such a ring of finality to it.

But I would like to say, I am not retired, I'm enlivened!

Everything is redefined.

Each first moment of the day -what do I have to do?

Each last moment of the day -what did I get done?

Not much.

Hallelujah!

chicken corn soup

Today I am making chicken corn soup. And yes, it is merely the act of stewing a chicken, adding noodles, fresh corn, onions, celery, herbs and sitting down to a delicious meal. But it is so much more!

To me it is celebration of county roads, corn shocks, winding creeks, fields of grasses and wild flowers, freshly-plowed furrows, and most especially, fun times. Whenever there was a gathering of any sort - like an estate auction, a church picnic, a school gathering, the Farm Show -  if you couldn't find a booth with some women ladling out chicken corn soup it wasn't much of a party!

Other people look with mild indulgence on this delicacy, but if you're Lancaster County born and bred, a steaming bowl of chicken corn soup will slather a whole lot of sunshine on no matter how dark a day!

Aren't we?

Over the weekend along the drenching trail of Florida students tears, I find hope as they are speaking out. They aren't politicians, they aren't partisans, they are heartbroken children saying, "Enough." I have no illusions that dramatic changes will happen immediately but who is the person who can completely ignore their agonized cries. This is not a political issue. This is a question of the literal survival of our nation. Assault rifles used in Vietnam readily available to a troubled youth of 18 who wasn't even of legal age for most things? Seriously we are better than this.

heritage

I have a framed photo in my bathroom of my father doling out coins to my siblings and I at an outdoor school fair. We attended a country 2-roomed school and the fair at the beginning of the year was a huge event that drew in pupils, their families and the larger community for a patriotic beginning to the school year - with of course hot dogs, ice cream and all the accompanying goodies. Dad was giving us buying power and we waited respectfully, eagerly for our share.

I have to think on this Valentine Day, thank you, Dad, for the way you doled out love, safety, support, trust to us each day as surely as those nickels and dimes. In terms of life, you certainly provided us with buying power, each day. And still do.

the news just beyond our door

Sabbath morning
swirling with flurries
of snow
and birds.
We enlarged our eyes 
and saw the startling red 
of robins
and the yellow
of cedar waxwings
against the grey-white
winter morn.
Fellow travelers
passing through,
made us
soar.