Batter up

I was changing the batteries on my beat up old radio - yes, you heard that right, radio! - and when I flipped the switch with the new ones in place, here came the mellow voice of the Nats play-by-play announcer, Charlie Slowes! I was astonished - it's still February and we still have traces of snow! It was such a welcome surprise! Yes of course I knew they were in Spring Training but I didn't know any of the games were carried on radio! Now that's the best news I've had today!

Baseball.... the boon and torment of my days. I vow not to get involved and just like that - on a Saturday night in February my radio is following me around! There's so much to love about the game and so much that is frustrating! You get involved, they tank, you stomp off for days, they revive, you think - well, maybe, and then they tank again. Wait until next year.... suckers.

I vowed at the end of last year's abysmal finish that I would be more judicious - and one change of batteries, and the dial being set just right, and pow, I'm in the game! and the season hasn't even begun!

I somehow think baseball always take me back to Dad and childhood summer evenings on the porch, fresh-mown grass, fireflies, late night chocolate-marshmallow ice cream.... and peace.

By all means, Play Ball!

snow day

First snow of the season that I was able to walk in! I was lingering over my breakfast when I suddenly remembered the forecasters had said it was going to change to sleet and I sprang into action!! It was truly glorious! Every branch, twig, leaves bore its load of white! Patterns jumped out at me on every side - it was like everything had come alive in another dimension. 

And the cathedral silence sank deep within me.

I came to a lovely untrampled white stretch and was truly tempted into snow angelhood, but the thought of wet clothes stopped me! I suddenly realized that most of the time in days gone by when I practiced the art I was wearing a snowsuit or snow pants of some sort - and longed to be transported into that freedom of expression - properly clad!

But still I tramped on, swallowing wintery air and silence.

So to all, whether you watch from behind a heated window, or move noiselessly through the drifted ridges of white outside, enjoy this day's offering of transformative stillness.

jig-saw puzzles

Puzzles, as in jig-saw.

Today I was amazed when my adult son said he and his wife started putting puzzles together! The practice was such an integral part of my childhood but not a part of our current family's history.

The occasion for puzzles in my childhood home was usually a snowstorm! When the flakes started falling, Dad would come home from work and it was time to set up a puzzle. We had a whole big box of them in the attic so the pieces were always icy when we began to lay them out on the kitchen table. Then we would each claim our side, top or bottom and set to work. I was never heavily invested and more often than not came rushing in at the finish line rather than slogging through the early going. Still, I remember with joy.

And there is never a family reunion that doesn't have a puzzle set up in some corner and truth be told, when you haven't seen people for a long while and are unfamiliar with the face of their daily lives, putting a puzzle together is the perfect bridge over awkward conversation.

My son said at first he had to school himself not to think it was a tremendous waste of time - but no!! It's the perfect tool to slow the mind and relax the soul, while sharpening all kinds of skills concerning shape, texture, color recognition.

And in my later years' familiarity with retirement institutions I always smile to see the inevitable puzzle set up in some corner and always a few residents in thoughtful contemplation.

Puzzles, the quietly satisfying, joyfully tedious process of  searching for that piece with a bit of green, two hooks, and a slightly rounded top -  the spying, the hopeful transporting to the empty space and voila!! A perfect fit!

 How much of your day turns out like that??!

Framework

And as a brief postscript to yesterday's comments on Valentine's Day I found this quotation from Harper Lee unbelievably in my morning reading -

Scout had just heard that Dill was not coming for the summer and she mused to herself -

"With him life was routine, without him, life was unbearable."

...which became my Valentine of yesterday!

So often, when it comes to romance, people put the emphasis on magic, fireworks, flashy manifestations of one kind or another, when really what you want most is routine, someone to depend upon, a steady background for whatever else is going on. 

Framework.

recognize the moment

I stepped outside on the front stoop to retrieve the paper and swallowed glorious sunshine! What a difference that yellow orb makes on the day! I could scarcely wait to get started on the day's journey.

But now, breakfast, Washington Post, morning mail later, the skies are all cloudy! Adages swirl:
- don't get your hopes up,
- seize the day,
- don't count your chickens before they're hatched
- many a slip twixt lip and cup.

Well, I won't be foiled and my four miles shall begin shortly!

But first, Valentine's Day. People write that this is one of the most difficult days of the year for many people. Why?... because the cotton candy dream just turns out to be a handful of sticky sugar!

Marriages fail, relationships rupture, children rebel, neighbors fight, governments dissolve before our very eyes, churches corrupt - disillusionment on very hand/

But wouldn't it be wonderful if folks could just embrace love wherever the merest trace of it exists.

And give thanks.

And spread those cards, flowers and chocolates over the other 364 days!


-

the other guy

Many years ago on a dark and stormy night, an elderly, slightly "elevated" woman slammed head-on into my car on the brow of a steep hill. In the midst of the rain, shattered glass and steel, bleeding nose, wind and moans of my injured son, the police officer murmured to me that the lady claimed "Satan was chasing her and threw a tree at her."

So there.

From that moment on, I learned that life isn't predictable. And, while always a careful driver, I have become almost paranoid in anticipation of the other guy's moves. But I read in a police article the other day that awareness, head swiveling constantly is your best hope of survival. 

And sometimes on a dark and stormy night that isn't enough.

I recovered from the above incident with a great scoop of Grace - as did my son. But unless you have been in an accident that wasn't your fault I don't think you can internalize the undying feeling of vulnerability that rides shotgun every single time that seatbelt clicks into place. 

many a slip

I heard that a friend slipped on black ice yesterday, fell and broke two bones above her wrist - ouch!! No matter how supple you feel your body is, that black ice phenomenon is the most feared concept at this age! Did we not have black ice as children??! I think I remember sliding on our driveway at home - with shoes - and I think we even tried ice skates at one time as it was completely glazed over. Oh, the abandonment!

 If I have to determine whether or not I indeed am aging, the fear of falling is certainly a valid barometer! As kids we fell constantly! Even from trees! Yet I don't think I ever broke a bone to this day apart from ribs and nose fractures in a car accident in my forties. But that record exists because of much grace on Fate's part! Many is the time the results could have been wildly different. 

So I guess the lesson is, act your age, proceed with caution, don't take unnecessary risks - but, hey, keep living!!