Gorgeousness

the only poppy to self-seed and re-emerge in our garden this spring

Improvements

I like to play with some of the photos that I shoot. Yesterday I went from this –

to this –

with a simple snapshot of some violets in the yard. I think the watercolor filter is an improvement on a sort of washed out, boring shot of weeds. The whole time I was working with the picture I was constantly looking to make it "better." While I was fooling around, it reminded of a conversation that Ali and I had at the dinner table a couple of nights ago.

Over hamburgers from the grill, we were talking about people we know, friends and acquaintances, who's lives are going nowhere. They are either addicts – painkillers and/or alcohol for the most part, or they just don't have the internal desire to make their lives about anything more than the next thing to complain about or the next moment of drama. We talked at length about why some people just don't want their lives to be more.

As she was putting her plate in the dishwasher Ali said, "You know, you and I have both had situations in our lives that could easily have put us right where some of these people are. Why didn't we quit on life too?" I'd like to think that we have something special in our DNA to help us persevere or that we were brought up with some kind of desire and work ethic that wouldn't let us quit, but in looking at the people we know who's lives are crashed and burning, I don't really think that's the case. Many of them come from backgrounds not much different than ours.

The more I think about this desire to constantly improve, the more I am beginning to believe that it's inspired by the people with whom we choose to surround ourselves. If we tolerate mediocrity in the people around us, it won't be too long before we are willing tolerate the same laziness in ourselves. If the people in our circle of companions are busy blaming others for their problems, constantly looking to the past instead of the future or are filled with bitterness and anger they will quickly bring us down to their level.

What if it turned out that making self-centered, life crushing decisions was contagious?

I don't really know why some people continue to grow up throughout their lives while some never really start. I've got a guess though. What if it's as simple as realizing that we become just like the people we choose to hang out with – good or bad?

What Goes Around, Comes Around

At least that's what my momma used to say!

And I thought I was having a bad day. . .

Upcycled Spoons

Two summers ago, while poking around a church garage sale I came upon a plastic bag of silver serving spoons. The bag of about 15 was marked $2. I couldn't resist. I had no immediate use for them and they languished, tarnished and lonely in my silverware drawer, awaiting redemption.

Until last week.

I took a rubber mallet to 'em! I released all my inner anxiety by flattening the bowls as best I could and then flattening the curve in the handle that appears just before you reach the bowl. Then, with some inexpensive metal stamping sets I made some simple plant identification markers!

I think they are pretty awesomely amazing. . .if I do say so myself!

It's actually harder than I thought it would be to do the stamping. The spoons still aren't completely flat and they jumped around as I pounded on the top of the letters.

This little upcycling endeavor also required a little more planning than I anticipated –

Seriously. . . you know what they say about lack of proper planning. . . My usual reaction to something like this would be to chuck the whole project in the trash and chalk it up to another failure. But, I looked at it again and it made me laugh. Out loud. At myself. How bad can that be? And what's more. . . I laugh every time I look at it. So it's staying!

You better lock your spoon drawer if I'm coming over. . . I got a lot of herbs to go!

More or Less

A Breakfast Table Interview

{The view out our window yesterday::made for a great nap!}

T:: How's your Raisin Bran?
A:: Good.

T:: Sucks to have to eat high fiber every morning doesn't it?
A:: Yep.

T:: You have an aging colon.
A:: So? You got a problem with that?

T:: Whatcha doin'?
A:: Puttin' sugar on my cereal. It's not sweet enough. You got a problem with that?

T:: Do you have a problem with sugar? You put it on everything.
A:: No.

A:: What kind of an interview is this?
T:: It's supposed to be a little snippet of our normal life.

{Pause while she eats her cereal. I presume she's thinking about normal life.}

T:: What's on your mind this rainy Monday morning?
A:: That I don't want to go to work. (puts more sugar on her cereal.) It's too stressful because we have way too much work to do and not enough time. (puts more sugar on cereal)

{Me, thinking – all that sugar will most certainly help. . .}

A:: These dogs are staring at me eat my sugar. . . er, cereal. They drive me crazy in the mornings. They won't let me sleep in. Oliver gets on the bed and growls at Sammy. He pushes me right out of my own bed. And I. Don't. Like. It.

T:: This isn't much of a conversation.
A:: I know. You aren't asking very good questions.

T:: Are you cranky?
A:: Yes I am. It's been crappy outside for three days. I don't want to go to work. That's all.

She walks away, scolding the cat.

It's an enchanted life here isn't it??

{This, however, IS enchanting!}

Right Now

Right now I am. . .

{seeking} simplicity, laughter.

{listening} to Jon Foreman and needtobreathe. I don't believe I've ever heard more honest lyrics from people seeking God.

{enjoying} a rainy weekend. It's nice to slow down, listen and just be.

{hoping} the sun comes around again tomorrow.

{planning} turkey meatloaf and real mashed potatoes for dinner.

{wishing} that the grocery shopping fairy would appear right now so that I didn't have to get dressed and go to the grocery.

{hearing} bird calls, raindrops.

{feeling} entranced by this photo. (Oh and this one. And this one!*)

{spring buds from the tree in front of our house, atop the greenhouse}

{forget-me-nots in full bloom}

{raindrops on the emerging hostas}

{breathing} with intention.

{appreciating} cake!

{knowing} somehow everything is just at it is supposed to be.

* Edited to add that Ali took all three of these photographs! ; )

A Small, Smooth Stone

In the summer of her ninth year she was beginning to learn her place in the world. Pushing her boundaries, walking on her own two feet. Mistakes were many but trust was like a small, smooth stone that she carried in her pocket. It was there, just in case.

Darkness had begun to stain the sky one Sunday night. They had just returned home from church. Everyone was hungry, cranky. The customary post-church meal was scrambled eggs, oozing with melted cheese. Her mother was at the stove and the smell of the quickly pulled together dinner crept throughout the house.

Her father was at the front door. He was locking up for the night. She was whiney – wanting something. Begging. His answer was no. She got bolder. He got angry. She got mouthy.

{Escalation. Never good on an empty stomach. She knows this now, as an adult. He should have known it too.}

Suddenly, his arm shot forward like the snake she had once seen hurrying out of the vegetable garden. That harmless old snake had traveled on by, out of self-preservation. Not this hand. This hand grabbed her by the throat, lifted her on her toes and pinned her to the huge front door. He leaned in close and whispered, "You will never speak to me that way again. Do you understand?" Her head hit the door with a nasty thwack.

Tears burned. She couldn't nod. She couldn't speak. She couldn't breathe.

He put her down and walked away. She sank to her knees, raw tears dripping.

As she cried, she imagined each tear landing in the old well in the backyard where she sometimes played. She imagined that as her tears radiated slow circles in the surface of the water they were joined by a larger splash – that small, smooth stone that she had known as trust.

A Date!

Setting:: Our kitchen

Time:: early evening, yesterday

Ali:: Are we doing anything on May 9th?

Me:: Not that I know of. Why?

Ali:: Wanna go on a date with me?

Me:: Sure! Where we goin'?

Ali:: (dramatically pulls a piece of paper from behind her back and thrusts it at me with the BIGGEST grin on her face!)

Me:: Squuueeeeeeeeeeeee!!!!!!!!!

I've been a Willie Nelson fan since. . . forever. One of my life list things, for years, has been to see him in concert before either he or I die. Looks like we will both make it! (Was that not the best surprise EVER??)

Tell Me How You Really Feel

Here's what we think of 87 degrees on Thursday (while we're all at work!) and 56 on Saturday (when we aren't!). It warranted razzberries from Izz. . .



Happy Weekend! (Chilly or not! And cats with attitudes or not!)

List Day

Today is Friday – also known as "List Day" in our house.

Ali and I are both list-makers. We both enjoy the process of writing down the things that need to be accomplished. Occasionally we even break out in a good natured argument about who gets to actually cross things off the list when they are finished. That is, after all, the best part of list making and keeping!

Because weekends, and particularly spring and summer weekends, are so precious, we make lists every Friday for the coming two days – mostly to assure that we squeeze as much enjoyment out of the 48 available hours as possible.

Here's our list from last weekend:

It includes our "home life" tasks ranging from grocery shopping to mowing and laundry and our "hobby life" enterprises like painting, gardening and crafting. I'm not sure why I get such enjoyment out of looking over lists from past weeks. Perhaps it's that each one is a snapshot in time – a portrait of the assorted tasks and endeavors that we are both successful and ineffective at accomplishing. I also am entertained by whatever we deemed to be important at any particular point in time be it garage sales, flea markets, a trip to the library or giving the dogs a bath.

Maybe it's that these tiny little moments, frozen in time on a wrinkled up, water stained piece of paper, that compose our lives – list by list by list.

Maybe "List Day" is the same reason I blog.

A friend who visits this space regularly asked, when she came to Bible Study this week, if I have ADHD. In her words, "When you go to the blog every day you have no idea what you might find!" We laughed hysterically, but it's a fair statement. One day might be an essay on something spiritual while the next is a recipe or a craft project. Or a photograph of something silly. Or a story about longing. Or a poem about nothing.

All I know is that this blog is composed of whatever happens to be important to me in one particular moment in time - frozen somewhere in cyberspace. Composing a life, bit by bit by bit.

Maybe that makes me ADHD. My friend said that it makes me interesting. All I know is, I'm perfectly OK with either one.

Swim Party!

When it's 87 degrees on April 15th, everybody needs to go swimming!

Especially puppies with bad hearts. . .who like to run and play anyways!


Not much I can say about this one. . .Ali entitled it "Swim Izzy, Swim!" Perhaps, "Drown Izzy, Drown???"

Things That Make You Go 'Huh?'

Main Entry: tress

Pronunciation: \ˈtres\

Function: noun

Etymology: Middle English tresse, from Anglo-French tresce

Date: 14th century

1 : a long lock of hair; especially : the long unbound hair of a woman —usually used in plural
2 archaic : a plait of hair

Do you suppose they actually meant trees?

Spotted on State Route 224, north of Findlay on Sunday afternoon.

Weekend Views

Ali painted another bird as a companion to Bubba. I can't remember what she wanted to name it, but my choice was Ruby!

Pansies in a leaky, old iron birdbath we found at a flea market last summer.

A photographer's "shadow box" in the early evening sun.

Working on our new (green)House!

Building a (green)House

Yesterday was one of those spectacular spring days full of energy, blue skies and improbable good luck. The late morning found us in Bluffton where we were snapping photographs for a secret project I'm working on. We were slowing walking around town, noticing little details and ducking in random shops looking for small treasures. As we were ready to head home I wanted to go in the direction of the University to take a couple of stills. Turning the corner onto Lawn Avenue I nearly threw us both through the windshield of the car putting it into park as we both saw a pile of old windows leaning casually against a telephone pole.

Now, I've never been too proud to take other people's junk and Ali is quickly overcoming her reluctance as I coax her over to the dark side. (I'm quite sure this little personality quirk comes from my dad. He made regular trips to "the dump" when I was a kid and came home with all kinds of treasurers that he repurposed* around our house and yard!) As we hopped out of the car, making a beeline for the windows, a man was come out his front door smiling at us.

"Are these your windows?" I asked with a grin.

"They sure are!"

"Do you still want them?"

"Nope! That's why they are out here. I hear that crafty-type people love old windows so you're welcome to them! If you want to drive by again tomorrow I will have some single pane ones out here if you want them too!"

Before he had even gotten those three sentences out of his mouth we already had all seven windows safely in the back of the Mountaineer and were headed out of town – giddy with our good fortune.

After some measuring, painting, drilling, screwing and three (yes! three. . . we're constuction rookies!) trips to the hardware store we now have this::

Three of the four "wall" windows were four inches shorter than the fourth one. We solved that by cutting three sections out of a 2x4 and painting them white before attaching them to the bottom of the windows. That evened them up with the fourth larger one. The top is hinged in place and all the windows are secured together with large "L" brackets.

Not only are we excited about using it to start seeds in the very early spring, I'm imagining fresh lettuce in February, basil all year round. . . oh, the possibilities! Oh yeah, we're also quite proud of our construction skills! And as an added bonus – the whole thing cost less than $10. . .if you don't count the cost of three trips to the hardware store!

*repurpose - squeezing extra and/or clever things out of everyday objects. Lifehacker is one of my favorite inspirational websites for ideas.

Meet Bubba

This is Bubba. He's a big ol' fluffy concrete bird that we found in Amish country last weekend. (If a big ol' concrete bird can even be fluffy that is!) Ali painted him a very warm shade of orange with lots of brown colorwash over the top. He sits proudly on a small wooden chair in our garden – king of all he surveys!

"God loved the birds and invented trees. Man loved the birds and invented cages."

~Jacques Deval

Bottle Tree Garden

For years, I've wanted a bottle tree. They are prevalent in the southern United States and I've been fascinated by the story that accompanies this garden sculpture.

According to ancient African myth, bottles on trees could catch evil spirits and prevent them from entering a home. In the 18th century, Africans who came to the South as slaves adorned cedar trees with bottles for protection. Blue bottles were preferred as they signified healing powers.

There are lots of examples of bottle trees ranging from using your dead Christmas tree to structures made from metal, to those that use a 2x4 with dowel rods coming out the sides. We wanted something different. All last summer, at flea markets and garage sales, we searched for hay forks and blue bottles.

Here's our newest garden addition.

We love it! I think we're going to plant blue Morning Glories around the base and add a bit more blue to our unique garden structure. It survived 45 mph wind gusts on Sunday and the tinkling sound that the bottles made was just an added bonus. Looking out the front window in the evening, the sun sparkles through the blue and seems to dance in the light.

I don't know too much about catching evil spirits, but I do know that our new tree has it's own brand of magic. . .it's becoming something of a conversation piece when we're out front or just sitting on the porch.

Anything that can get strangers talking can't be a bad thing, huh?

Who Says You Can't Have Both?

On Friday Ali and I took a roadtrip to Amish country. I'm always filled with mixed emotions about going to that part of Ohio. I love the beautiful, rolling countryside dotted with beautifully kept farms and ribboned with dark colored clothing flapping in the breeze, drying on the clotheslines of families living without electricity. I respect the Amish way of living in the world and I hate that their small towns have become full of tourists with cameras, snapping pictures of people who don't even look at their own images.

I live with myself by not taking any photos of people who wouldn't want their image reproduced in film. Also by hitting every quilt shop we find and supporting the local quilt artists of the area!

Around 11:30 we were in Kidron, inside a friendly small shop that specializes in selling world crafts, with all the proceeds returning to the artists and their local economies. The two older ladies volunteering in the store were so kind and outgoing that we confessed we were getting hungry and asked for a recommendation for lunch. They gave each other a funny little look and then one asked, "Do you want good food or do you want ambiance?"

My assumption was that they were really asking, "Do you want your servers, dressed in Amish clothing, to hand you a plate of generic fried chicken or do you want some real home cooking?"

We quickly replied, "Good food!"

They sent us around the corner to the local grocery – The Town and Country Store. We must have had surprised looks on our faces because they quickly assured us, "Don't go in the door to the grocery. Go in the door on the right and then go down the basement! There's a little restaurant down there! The food is wonderful!"

I have to admit, we were a little dubious. Lunch in the basement of the local grocery store? Suddenly ambiance wasn't looking so boring. . .

. . .until we walked in and saw this:

If that's not ambiance, I don't know what is! The place was gorgeous – right out of an era all but gone. It smelled even better than it looked. The menu board promised the following:

We decided to order "light" so as not to miss the homemade pies on display behind the counter.

Ali ordered homemade chicken noodle soup. Even the noodles were homemade. Her pie of choice was peach.

I ordered the hot Trail bologna (locally made!) sandwich with Swiss cheese (also locally produced!). My pie choice was chocolate/peanut butter cream.

The peach pie was so gorgeous, it required another shot! It doesn't object to having it's picture taken!

To say that we were happy with our lunch is a trivialization of the art of simple, local food cooked and served with love. And if you ever find yourself in Kidron, Ohio anywhere near mealtime, find the basement of the Town and Country Grocery Store.

Ambiance. Good Food. Who says you can't have it all?

Morning Light

{the alley side of 331 N. Main Street, Bluffton, Ohio}

The Legend of the Dogwood - Good Friday

There is a legend that at the time of the Crucifixion the dogwood tree had been the size of the oak and other forest trees. So firm and strong was the tree that it was chosen as the timber of the cross. To be used for such a cruel purpose greatly distressed the tree, and Jesus, nailed upon it, sensed this, and in his gentle pity for all the sorrow and suffering said to it:

"Because of your regret and pity for My suffering, never again shall the dogwood tree grow large enough to be used as a cross. Henceforth it shall be in the form of a cross...two long petals and two short petals. And in the center of the outer edge of each petal there will be nail prints, brown with rust and stained with red, and in the center of the flower will be a crown of thorns, and all who see it will remember...that it was upon a dogwood tree I was crucified and this tree shall not be mutilated, but cherished as a reminder of My death upon the cross."

What are you thinking about today?

Cracked Wide Open

The essence of being a human, for most of us, is the practice of guarding, strengthening and slowly freezing our hearts. We instinctively defend ourselves from pain. As big, important people in the world we slowly forget what it is to be vulnerable and, bit by bit, we allow our hearts to be so overgrown with the dense undergrowth of protection that we come to believe we are impenetrable and unpierceable.

The antidote for this condition is known as Holy Week. At least it is for Jesus followers.

I always arrive at Holy Week feeling like I've let God down. I begin every 40 day Lenten observance with such grand expectations of pious, holy living – so crammed full of spiritual enlightenment and periods of praying like nobody's business, that I'm always doomed to failure.

By the time Good Friday rolls around I'm once again stumbling around in the darkness. I've so lost sight of the cross that the only way God can help me find it is by watching me trip over it, and gently smiling as I look up to catch my breath.

All God really wants is just for me to show up. I'm just supposed to let go of my spiritual expectations and see what happens.

There are a few things that have the unique ability to crack my heart wide open. Silly little things that penetrate the defenses and all the mechanisms of self-preservation that I employ. Little things that create a skosh more space around my heart in which to breathe and give thanks.

:: Harmonizing with Alison Krauss on I'll Fly Away {sometimes Ali and I sing this together in the car - she singing soprano, me singing alto - so loudly that people in other cars must wonder what's wrong with us!}

:: Remembering my grandmother's laugh.

:: Laying on the bed with Sammy, rubbing his belly and remembering where he came from and being thankful that he found his way to us.

Perhaps these little things that crack my heart wide open are simply manifestations of God in the world. Maybe that's what Holy Week is really all about - just showing up with defenses down. Showing up to see what God will do now.

I want to be present. I want to be here. With my heart cracked wide open.