Why stay hidden?

wood 2I grew up on the edge of a large Midwest city (Indianapolis).  My graduating class in high school was over 700, and I attended the main campus of a Big Ten university immediately thereafter.  I have been to visit my daughters on both coast in L.A. and the Big Apple, and accompanied my husband’s small college on a trip to London several years ago. 

crowdAll this to say, crowds don’t bother me. 

It’s not that prefer them; I don’t.  In fact, I’m writing this on my somewhat secluded patio in my comparatively sleepy small town with my quiet mutt on the pavestones as the birds sing around me.  Yes, in a way, I’m hiding.  Intentionally.  Is that so bad?

But I’m quite adept at hiding in a crowd also.  I really like not 
Continue reading “Why stay hidden?”

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Name that tune

clef-1414105_1920I’m not a true musician, but I dabble around in a few things.  I sort of remember a some notes and symbols from the treble cleft, thanks to my parents’ marvelous attempts to musically educate their young daughter.  So when it came time for our oldest child to enter 5th grade, I informed her that it wasn’t a matter of whether or not she would be in the band, but simply which instrument would she like to play.

In other words, at least some exposure to Continue reading “Name that tune”

Happy Sprinter!

quillThanks to Mitch Teemley for this whimsical (but very profound) offering!  If you haven’t found Mitch’s site, The Power of Story, go there!! (Well, I mean, read this first, THEN go there.) You’ll laugh, be inspired, made to think.  And you will have fun. Thanks, Mitch!

yellow_crocus_flowers_in_the_snow_1600x1279

Uncertain spring,

no longer winter.

Transition’s the only

permanent thing.

So why should we wait

to lift up our hearts?

Let us huddle together

and celebrate Sprinter!

⇔ ⇔ ⇔

“To be interested in the changing seasons is a happier state of mind than to be hopelessly in love with spring.”

~George Santayana

Red Ink

neuschwanstein-castle-467116_1280Red ink.  The bane of literary students, or any student for that matter.  You know what it means: misstake, eRr0r, wrong answer, ruuunnnn-on sentence (that was one of my specialties, still is, for all that.)  My husband is a teacher, and with some of his exams he allows what I call a do-over (he calls it a “revision”, which sounds much more professorial.) The red ink, or whatever he uses, shows the mistakes which, as disappointing and uncomfortable as it may be at the time, is actually a good thing.  The student then gets another chance.

This is what happened with the people in Nehemiah’s day.  Having returned from their seventy-year exile to their home in Jerusalem, they were now being instructed from God’s book of the Law, some of them undoubtedly for the first time.  Their collective reaction is quite compelling: Continue reading “Red Ink”

Good morning, Shelob

garden last

Once again, I almost met a spider face to face the other morning.  Yes, I tore the web down with a stick.  I don’t mind if she builds one over the compost pile to pick up as many flies as she wants, or on the garage wall by the picnic table and feast on the ample supply of mosquitoes.  Just not next to the light switch that I need each morning when I go outside, thank you very much!

So hello to the spider on her web (I say “her”, for those of us who may remember either Charlotte or Shelob), and as slight as it might seem, the gossamer tensile strength of the web is formidable, yet it undulates with the Continue reading “Good morning, Shelob”