Westwoods

  How can I keep from singing... If only it was that easy. But walking through a spring time orchard does help one to come to this... The thing is, celebration and beauty for the good things in life are at the same time going to bring pain and suffering and reminders of grief. This is life. The spring blossoms are beautiful and amazing, a breath from heaven...softness and comfort and fragrant peace...answers to prayers...safety...refuge... This is life too. Loss and grief and brokenness.  Relationships break and we can't seem to forgive and move on. Our babies go to heaven before they arrive on earth. Some of us don't even get the hope of a child. We are barren. Left alone, dry, and withered. We feel forgotten.  It comes to me in a still small voice that we all experience and suffer, loss and grief. We all get to choose..."Though none go with me, still I will follow". This is best committed and promised to God when we are most alone and stripped of everything we ever ...

  My good friend, Emily, over at  mrs.emilymiller.substack.com  challenged me to use the opportunity without a phone as a self-improvement thing...see what a phone fast does for you and give report of that to us. I am sad to report that I'm still not sure if there was any self-improvement and what it was, or if I benefited from this experience. I suppose the most shocking thing in all of it was the helpless and bereft feeling I had the whole ten days. That feeling began the moment I realized what I had done. How it happened: I was returning a rental car in Baltimore at 4:00 a.m. I had conquered the strange unpredictable PA roads for three days, navigated the toll system, figured out where to fuel up the car and leave it in the parking garage. Feeling quite successful for four in the morning...we, my daughter and I, grabbed our few bags, locked the car, and walked toward the deposit box for the key and the shuttle waiting for us to take us over to the airport for our six o...

I was born in 1976. Some of my siblings last night, on the family page, went wild with history that was going on at their time of birth. It was interesting. I googled my own but got distracted with remembering the 80's and 90's. The parts of living in a little girls mind without the history lesson, that is... Sunday mornings. Tight braids and hair balls. Unbearably tight braids that made my eyes water. I'd go to the mirror to make sure my eyes weren't squinting. Thick cotton socks stuffed inside black shiny buckle shoes. The buckles were  often stretched out on the shoes, so that they buckled loosely at best. And the hair balls also had lost their elasticity. The Dress...double knit polyester, green with big purple flowers. Hot and scratchy. Jelly shoes and moon boots. If you know, you know. Tights that hung low in the crotch. No such thing as leggings. Big glasses. Didn't care. Could finally see actual blades of grass and leaves on trees. Barefoot, mowing lawn. Gre...

  This is a photo I took on our daily walks, of a beautifully flowering camellia tree over in Gig Harbor last week. Now that I've written that sentence three times and yes, I meant the adverbs and adjectives to be placed where I did, I will leave it there. If you are a grammar and word police, do your thing. Enjoy. On our trip home last weekend, it rained torrentially all day, the whole route was in constant downpour with only the bridges and overpasses allowing for a half second of quiet. I tried reading aloud as we wanted to finish our book, but my voice went hoarse from straining. The rain noise won and I put the book away. And I thought about storms and solid downpours in life in relationships. In comparing storms and sunshine to relationships, one could easily get very off track. Maybe. But I find in my life with the tendencies I have toward sheltering, protecting, and nurturing quietness; it really kind of fits. The parallels are endless for me. Very probably, we marry our op...

 We leave tomorrow and I'm not sad about that. There's no place like home. At home there is a washer and dryer and a real bed and shower. And my sweet little morning chair.  It's been fun. It was dreamy too in its way. We played a game one evening, had a picnic on a sunny afternoon, took lots of walks, ate out at a very authentic Italian restaurant...on and on. Many moments of relaxation and reflection. I've pondered more than usual about friendship and sisterhood. About why a few friends and siblings thrive on explaining and sharing themselves and why some of us are too "something" to explain and share and would rather quietly let people say and think what they will about you and have peace with that.  I thought and prayed a little more often for church and country. Politics are in both and I think there is a lot to tell Jesus about both.  I have thoughts about communities, how they should run and the responsibilities one must call their own, which I don'...

  We are getting in each others space just a little. Maybe like the pair of geese I watched this morning bicker and carry on over who knows what. Those two follow each other around all day long, up the bank of the harbor and all around the yard above, close to the sidewalk that leads into town. Only occasionally do they make a raucous. It looked like your typical marriage spat. She very calmly swam behind her squawking partner as he protested loudly to something she was doing. He kept clacking his beak together and shaking his head, clearly unhappy with whatever was distracting her. Maybe they were looking for food and she liked something that he thought was priced too high. Anyway, she remained unruffled and swam behind him, I think grinning and chuckling to herself that she got him to squawk. Like when Bruce and I shop downtown in touristy towns. The more intrigued I am with the candles and dishes and tea towels, the deeper his scowl creases increase. I know it worries him but I ...

  We are parked next to the Blue Gollywobbler. She is the boat you see out the window. This morning in my half awakened state as I sipped down my coffee; I watched a blue heron lead her daily yoga class. I was her only human audience I suppose, but I promise I'm not making this up. Truly, she was magnificent as she lifted her beak toward the skies and held it for the count of five. Then fluffing her wings for three repetitions, she alighted and glided 20 feet into the water. Now her beard became visible, did you know blue herons have beards? Perhaps she was a guy, blue heron. One should do their research. I will, but for now I will continue the yoga class given by said heron.  The next step of relaxation was to thrust her face straight down into the water and hold for the count of three. That done, now fly. Up three feet out of the water onto blue and white boat to the right. Fly to the top, O Thou Great, Heron. Here she commenced her wing fluffs, up down, up down, side step l...