Tomorrow is Memorial Day

The next time you visit a cemetery, take a moment to visit "someone" who probably won't get any earthly company.  So many people have passed and left only a headstone.  A thought for one of them, especially someone who served in a war, I have found to be very grounding.  My mother is buried in a military cemetery (she served as a WAVE beginning at the end of WWII) and EVERY headstone there tells a story.

Speaking of stories, I was attempting to attach a lovely picture of Camp Nelson, when I read that Medal of Honor recipient, Private William M. Harris, is also buried there.  A member of the 7th U.S. Cavalry, he died at Little Big Horn.

Ahead of the Curve

Color me surprised when, after my poking at the Father-Son-and-and-Holy Ghost concept in my last post, I discovered this is Trinity Sunday.  A Sunday, according to our interim priest, that homily-deliverers hate because the concept is so challenging.  To condense what I heard (as we all know, what I heard may not have been what he meant), once you've said they are all one, all divine (with Jesus being totally human and totally divine), there's not much to say.  I also heard that they said these things because, when it's not so easy to explain something, better to just state it as fact, not open to discussion.  I work with a number of folks that have the same approach to debatable topics.

He was able to put an intersting twist on the 3-in-one; God is in heaven, Jesus is of the World and the Holy Spirit works in your heart.  I would, personally, place them a little differently, but it's encouraging to know that my thought process is keeping up with the liturgical calendar.  Hee hee! I crack myself up sometimes!

This is not at all what I wanted to wax on about today, but I  couldn't get it off my mind until I  put in cyberspace.  Tomorrow being a holiday, I hope to gather my thoughts for a more introspective post.  See, there I go again, making myself LOL.

Day of Pentecost

It's Pentecost.  It's a glass-half-empty-glass-half-full kind of Holy Day.  It's the beginning of a loooong "green" church season.  I mean really long; the next liturgical season is Advent, which comes about 6 weeks before Christmas.  Long.  A little history:

Pentecost was originally an Old Testament festival, since the time of Josephus calculated as beginning on the fiftieth day after the beginning of Passover. In the Christian calendar, it falls on the seventh Sunday after Easter. It was called the Feast of Weeks (Shavuot), and in the Old Testament was originally an agricultural festival celebrating and giving thanks for the "first fruits" of the early spring harvest (Lev 23, Exod 23, 34).
While there are other references to Pentecost in the New Testament (e.g. 1 Cor 16:8), it is most significant in Acts 2 and the familiar scene of the outpouring of the Holy Spirit on those in the "upper room." The New Testament writers associate the events of Acts 2 with Pentecost, and relate it to the prophecies of Joel 2 and promises of Jesus (Acts 1:8). In both, the emphasis is on a empowerment through the Holy Spirit to enable the people of God to witness to Jesus the Christ.

Now, to my personal glass-almost-all-the-way-full view of the day.  When I think about it, I have some trouble with the concept of the three-in-one Trinity.  My bad.  My God forgives me.  I anthropomorphise the godhead. (There is the whole is Jesus-wholly-human-wholly-divine concept to deal with, too, but I will blissfully ignore that for now.)  I am most comfortable with the Holy Spirit.  I have been touched by it and I believe that when I ask for God's help that help is delivered by the Spirit.  I see the Spirit as God's presence on Earth.  So today is the day that commemorates that.  Pretty darn cool.  As my friend, Linda, has said, "Yea, God!"  

Now, in my simple little world, God-the-father, Abba, gave us this world to care for and enjoy.  Yesterday evening I enjoyed it in abundance from my hammock...here's the view (please imagine an aviary full of birdsong).  OK, the view is at the top.  Sorry, just go back and look at it again...and be thankful, with me, that this is, indeed, the day the Lord has made.  Alleluia, Alleluia, Alleluia!

There is No Joy in Mudville

Mighty Casey has struck out.  Yes, my guilty pleasure is American Idol.  I never watch the "embarassing" weeks at the beginning, but when they finally get to the real thing, I record it to watch and judge.  This year, I AM ashamed to say, I am enamoured with the eye candy that is Casey James.  Tall, blonde, yummy!  Yes, he can sing, too, but he knew it was time to bow out gracefully.  Crystal will be fine because she was a professional when she "got to Hollywood" but Lee is what the show is all about.  His rendition of The Boxer has me humming every time I hear it.

Today on Facebook...

I've been doing "computer" work I've been putting off.  Google searches, entering things in my calendar, organizing what I can control.  So, procrastinator that I am, I wandered over to my facebook page, which lead me to...well you probably know what it lead to.  Welcome, anyone I "friended" today!  I found folks I knew in a former life with favorite pages ranging from Glenn Beck to "Tell Dick Cheney to Shut the Hell Up!"  How is it possible we grew up in the same small town?  I'm off for now to see how to make that DCheney site a favorite...but first, a shot of my kids for Mothers' Day:

And, Then Appears a Sign of the Covenant

Okay, I didn't see a rainbow, but I'm sure there is one somewhere.  What I have representing God's grace are flowers in my garden:

Can't you just smell the lilacs and peonies?

I can...from the HAMMOCK!  Let's give a shout (hooray) for perennials.

Hey! We're Flooded Here, Too!

Despite national reporting, serious flooding occured north of Tennessee.

This as a photo of our downtown area Monday (I think).  The water started rising Sunday.  Lucky for me, I had an appointment to have my most recent BIG piece photograhed in Cincinnati.  Normally this is 1 1/2 hour drive; Sunday it took twice that long because, no matter which way I went, I was blocked by some official vehicle (the most amusing was a city garbage truck), and forced to backtrack 3 or 4 miles to try another route.  I saw a lot of the countryside in the hour and a half it took me to get 15 miles to I-75.

Before I started my trek, my DH, Terry, checked our walk-in crawlspace and proclaimed it dry.  This was good because three years we had our back yard renovated to divert water away from the house. How did we initally find our water problem?  We would run out of hot water (the water heater is gas and the pilot light would, uh, drown).  By the time the water heater was out, the crawlspace would be dry; we thought it was a fluke that the pilot would be extinguished.  It seemed to happen during a storm, so we thought it was the wind .  We finally had a plumber in to fix whatever was causing the extinguishing.  "Uh, sir" the professional asked with a smirk,"do you see that line (about a foot from the ground) that is on everything?  You've had a lot of water down here."

I digress.  I returned from Cincinnati late (at least I knew to take the longer, drier, way back), exhausted, anticipating a lovely, hot shower.  I hopped in and EEEK!  Coldcoldcoldcoldcold!  Once again (this time we saw it for ourselves), we had our own personal flood.  Sometime in the previous 12 hours the sump pump stopped pumping and the water heater drowned.  Happily, the water went away by noon Monday, DH lit the pilot light and all was well by the time I came home from work. 

Boy-oh-boy, I am so spoiled; one cold shower and I'm whining.  There are millions on this planet that don't have food or shelter.  Color me thankful. 

Hammock Time

Really, is there anything better than a hammock in the spring?  This is my new hammock; I have wanted one for years and I just decided it was time to get one.  It is everything I dreamt about; I lie in it after work with a cocktail and my Kindle.  I lie in it after dark and look up at the stars.   It is especially perfect in the evening when it has cooled more outside than in.  Bliss!

The first night I had it I took my pillow and comforter to it, got wonderfully peaceful and comfortable and fell asleep as I intended.  About an hour later I awoke after FALLING OUT OF IT!!! Ouch.  No more mixing Ambien and hammock time.

Hamhamhamhamhammock time!

If it's Wrong, Fix it

It's the middle of April.  Two weeks ago my BFF and my day-job boss asked me if I was depressed.  Hmm...both are very astute women, and after very little thought I realized that, sure enough, I was situationally depressed.  No, I am not a doctor, nor do  play one on television.  I made up the diagnosis, but it was accurate.  I had too much on my plate and was doing pretty much nothing.  Immobile.  No forward progress.  Guilt was keeping me from doing anything.

I was sad to realize the problem portion on my plate was my EfM class.  I wasn't studying.  I skipped two weeks of class because I did not want to go unprepared.  I did once and I felt liberated and rude at the same time.  My bad.  I quit,  A weight lifted from my shoulders.  The weight-lifting feeling is my personal barometer as to whether I've made a good decision or not.  It works really well if you're thinking about changing jobs.  Send a resume out.  Feel relieved?  Good decision; send more.  Feel panicky or not good?  You're not ready to move on.  Simple, like me.

After a no-guilt weekend with the BFF in lovely Birmingham, here's what I have been doing since my relelation:

Cleaned my studio.  Isn't all this folded fabric beautiful?  A place for everything and everything in its place.  Those of you that know me, stop laughing...NOW!

Adopted a new dog who LIKES to keep my company in the studio.  I have more flattering pictures of the beautiful Eddie, but this is the only one in the studio.  Yes, he needs a bigger bed.  I have the fabric, I have the soft stuff.  It's on the list.  But first I need to finish:

this piece.  As of an hour ago, I am one step closer to that.  After I post this, I'm going to make lots of bias binding.  Each part is about a foot square...let's see, 4 feet of binding each (assuming no mistakes...hahaha...I crack myself up) x 12 = 48 feet of binding.  

But I don't have to read and contemplate Paul's letter to the Romans first!  Wahoo!

A Murder of Crows

Friday started early, just as the sky was brightening. The weather was cool rather than frigid. A light breeze blew across our deck as I kept my dog, Maggie, company as she surveyed her domain, the back yard.

I am required, by Maggie, to do this at least twice a day. Her “Watch me, Mommy, watch me!” is so reminiscent of the never-ceasing, frighteningly similar, calls I made to my father while he would accompany me to the public pool when I was eight. I am not surprised at how often I went alone. Please, no finger-shaking; I am unscathed by the experience of doing many things alone, including driving cross-country at 16. It was a different time. I demanded independence.

While I attended Her Highness, I stretched and scanned the sky. I usually hear doves cooing time of year. This day I heard the distinctive caw of a crow. And another crow. And another crow. Well, this is different, I thought. Then I saw them; six, flying in a kind of missing-man formation; soon, another crow filled in the vacant spot, and a few others joined in. Crows flying in formation? Who knew? Certainly not I. Then I remembered that a group of crows is called a murder.  How cool is that? And how poetic?

It was an auspicious beginnig to a glorious, sunny day.  Sublime.  And then Maggie (AKA Devil Dog) begins to bark.  "Shh!  Maggie, people are sleeping" I implore her.  No go.  I'm not sure she understands any English words but dinner, breakfast, treat, and walk. 

She bounds on her short legs to the corner of our yard, woofing all the way.  What an embarrassment!  Then I see them, just outside the fence; a pair of deer.  Maggie's reputation has obviously proceeded her, because they glanced her way, then continued their leisurely stroll through the neighborhood.

A VERY good morning.

Once again, I am a harbinger of future Baby-boom trends. For those of you have known me a looong time, you know that I am often just barely on the leading edge of things. For those of you who do not know me; here’s a partial list:


I collected unicorns and flamingos a year or two before they were everywhere. When I started, they were almost impossible to find. I stopped collecting (really, what’s the point if you can find your collection in a Hallmark store or Wal-Mart? While I’m on the subject of collecting, generally, please be careful when adding to another person’s collection. In many cases, the fun is the collecting, not the having.

I read Tai-Pan in the late 60’s (I was 13 or 14) and became aware that sometime around 1980 China was going to bring Hong Kong back into her bosom.  I became enamored with all things Asian; fabric, art, religion…I Ching, anyone? Feng shui principles have prodded me, occasionally, to worry about having a home on the dragon’s eyeball or placing a mirror where it will reflect all my good luck back out the door or window.

Because I always want to be unique, these kinds of things eventually bother the heck out of me. Enough!

Recently I have been over-sharing my love of a Canadian poet, Leonard Cohen. My first really romantic moment came when a young man with the most beautiful hair serenaded me with Cohen’s song, Suzanne. I didn’t know it was Cohen’s until a few years ago. I learned it, and then forgot it. I make an effort to keep my RAM uncluttered so I can access information I need quickly. (At this point you are allowed to ask, “So, how’s that workin’ out for you?” because it isn’t). I have emailed the link, http://www.dailymotion.com/video/x3rwo0_leonard-cohen-hallelujah_music , to everyone I can think might enjoy my new-found love; his song, Hallelujah. I KNOW it’s old, but it had not surfaced in the pool of my thoughts until about a year ago.

So, here, if you haven’t figured out the punch line yet, is the most recent example of my harbingering…k d lang sang the song during the opening of the Olympics. REALLY. She sang the heck out of it, too, which must be as hard as singing The Star Spangled Banner at a World Series or Superbowl game because of all the noise.

I’m just saying…it’s a great song and now billions of other folks can jump on my bandwagon. I just love the song about the "baffled king composing."

It's Saturday morning.  My "To Do" list includes "Learn how and start to blog"
I can cross this off (or highlight it  with my ever-present pink hi-lighter) and feel
that sweet sense of accomplishment.  Ahhhh.  I have also hi-lighted:
   Organize papers covering my work table
   Procure and install halogen bulb in quilting/sewing/reading lamp (the first bulb lasted 17 years, so very worth the trouble)
   Find a photographer for my work
   Decide if I need a desktop computer, if so, order one
       A very patient, helpful and knowledgeable Joshua Stevenson @Dell was wonderful; I asked him many questions and he shared many answers.  I am very excited about the purchase and wait with semi-bated breath for delivery of my XPS8100

Now that my work table is clear I am forced to "back" the square-foot quilt I'm making for donation to SAQA...more about this and more, later...