Anything less than love

Good morning, how have you all been?! A little fattened up by your Easter banquet? My Easter four letter holi*- day presented a different kind of celebration- ribs and kite flying, bubbles off the deck floating on the wind, out over a lake.

Beautiful day with beautiful friends.

I did not attend the four walled kind of church, spending most of my time out under the big sky cathedral. The hymn that was fixed in my mind most of the day was "Unclouded Day"- good old time music.

The February nursery garden supplied fresh radishes and delectable greens, the bright yet sprightly still chives- ended up in a vinaigrette made for sharing.
I gathered a bouquet of yellow tulips and budding branches from the apple tree, mixed in some walking stick willow stems and delivered it all there to the house on the lake in an old blue Ball jar.(The flowers, not the salad...oh my.) The old green Ford carried me and the flowers to the place of laughter and guitars, hammocks made for two- a virtual love palace. One of those places that you are made to feel welcome by the hugs and smiles of the inhabitants, as if you'd been there before... A few there had never shared a meal with the fellow across the table from them, and yet...eating with your fingers, barbecue dripping off your face didn't seem odd or out of order, just made the grins more abundant.

Anything less than love would not have been welcome at that table, so without thinking, I acted accordingly.

"...Oh the land of cloudless days
Oh the land of an unclouded sky
Oh they tell me of a home where no storm clouds rise
Oh they tell me of an unclouded day..."

written by Rev.J K Alwood

It felt like an uncluttered, light and breezy dry day- and yet, there were storm clouds all around, heavy with rain, though not an ounce of precipitation from me or the sky, hallelujah!

Take care-

(*holidays stink. This one was different though, and once again I find myself being ever so thankful...not once identifying with those devilish eggs ;)

the brightest of days

"To sacrifice something is to make it holy by giving it away for love."
Frederick Buechner

Good Friday to you...
The peas are in the ground as of yesterday afternoon, along with turnips and lettuce and Tatsoi and spinach and radishes and, oh I forget- I only know my back told me to stop about an hour before I did. But it felt so good, the planting. And this morning urges me to get my onions in the ground before the rains surely come, but again, my wintered back says "just watch it sister!" And I am so glad I started an early planting, because I learned that my Earthway planter is set to be retired- seems like every foot or so I had to smack it to get it to release seeds. A somewhat frustrating though good lesson in patience...I didn't even cuss, only smiled. Another lesson in patience is planting the oh so tiny lettuce seeds- when the wind blows even slightly, the little seeds leave their row, flying out of the boundaries of the safety of straight lines into the hoeing zone where weeds find a home. Yep, I sure need that new Earthway...and soon.

And this day finds me again in a remembrance of Easter's past, of coloring eggs and making up baskets and finding just the right kite for each child. Yes, Easter is kites and bubbles and jelly beans and the finest of dresses and hats for two little lovely girls and big bright ties for the boys. And the pictures! Always the pictures of the faces, filled with anticipation-"Where did mama hide the eggs? In the crook of the old Maple out front? In the Iris patch? In the watering can?" And the hunt took place with squeals of laughter and racing hearts and feet...the big ones leaving the easiest found eggs for the little ones. After the egg hunt was up, off to church- the brightest of days there. Everyone dressed up, Easter Lilies set around the altar, their fragrance floating above each pew, the creamy white blossoms signifying anew, resurrection.

Remembering, planting seeds, missing someone...and holding it all up to memories mirror, the reflection shows love, only love. Good Friday. Peace be with you, take care-

holy now

"...there's Uncle Joe, he's a movin' kind of slow- at the junction...(Petticoat Junction.)"

See if that little song doesn't stay in your head all day. Just had to bring it up, remembering that show with the sisters and the mom and old Uncle Joe who got up early just so he could take a nap. Yep. I get up early just so I can make a pot of coffee and put the tea kettle on...for dessert, kind of. Oh I love my tea, herbal and otherwise. Which brings me to the point, the explanation of writing this early morning- the tea kettle relates to time taken out of time. To sit and wait for the boil, to mindfully pick and place a tea bag in the stoneware pot and pour the whistling hot water over it. To watch the steam rise, carry the little pot here- next to this keyboard and pick out a story, a tale of time come, time gone, and time now- this very moment finds me alive and happily so.

I don't know about you, but I find some importance in being still in moments such as this, reflecting on lists made, good strong intentions, whittling away the mess of loss of time- so many things carry us away from the project or the moment at hand. I suspect that most people in my life (who have observed me in my daily manic ways)...do not realize that out of sixth gear I do shift, generally in the morning, or out in the gardens and always in the woods- I slow, I'm quiet, I'm purposeful in that I meld with the silence, the stillness, the shrillness too at times of bird songs and tight breezes. Yes, most do not know this side of me- I suppose I rarely share it, it is mine and mine alone- selfishly sitting out on the sidelines why life whizzes by for so many. Oh, I use to whiz along too, never stopping, realizing the beauty to be had, the miracles all around- for me, it seems...everything is holy now. (From a song, love that line.)

May this week find you well, precious to yourself- as precious as the time, the moments we have here. Oh and do look for the green overcoming the winter's weight of greys and brown, it's popping through little by little, overcoming- resurrecting the bleak with the beauty of Spring.
Take care-