Westwoods

 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...

  It is a beautiful morning here in Gig Harbor. We left the world of snow and ice behind on Sunday while our home was getting smothered with the worst storm yet this year. I did a little happy jig in my heart after driving a couple hours on snowy roads and stopping at a rest area where the weather had taken on a balmy warmth.  As we stepped out of the pickup, the tree we had parked under was alive with chickadees in birdsong. It was as if they were singing the snow right off the branches and the ground. There was evidence of the big storm in the depth of snow still left on every available tree limb, lamp-post, and sidewalk. But those birds were doing their level best to sing it all away, as was my aforementioned heart. I read aloud, A Lesson in Hope by Philip Gulley off and on throughout the drive over while the roads got better and better. The snow disappeared completely as we drove into this popular little harbor. It really isn't little at all but living on a boat in an har...