THANKFUL FRIDAY

It is time for my annual Oh My God, It’s Spring post. Except I don’t feel as excited about Spring as I usually have in previous years. I mean, yes I love all the color and the warmer temperatures. My Instagram feed is filling up with pictures of tulips of all shapes and colors. I can’t help myself. I cannot pass by a tulip with taking it’s picture. I have ridden my scooter almost every day this week and it has been glorious. Josephine and I have not quite made it back to our regular walking routine. We are not walking every day, but we are walking on some days.

Which is enough for now.

I don’t think I’m tromping around this year saying “Finally! Winter’s over!” with a heavy sigh because Winter wasn’t really that bad. I feel a little guilty for saying it, but it’s true. Sure it was cold, miserably cold, but I only had to shovel the driveway once. I have friends in Utah who had to shovel so much snow that their shovel broke. People are still dealing with Winter weather even though the calendar has declared it to be Spring. I’m also a little hesitant because I have been fooled a number of times by April/May snow showers, an event absolutely unheard of during my years in Oklahoma. My collection of frozen tulip photos is my reminder that Winter doesn’t move on easily.

But for now, I’ll bask in this Spring light.

I find myself struggling to write these days. My focus has been on the mundane tasks of being an adult. Paying my taxes. Reminding myself to print out the form to renew my passport. Making up the weekly menu. Last week I was buried under a pile of slides that I had to batch image and process. This week I’ve been planning my trip to the Marine Biology Lab in June, a month and half away. Then I remember that I also need to make plans to go to Oklahoma for Quinn’s graduation. I haven’t even mentioned this to Michael. There hasn’t been time.

We are both busy.

My tether of thoughts and mental lists seem to only break apart when I step outside for a walking loop around the building. The moment the sun hits my face, my focus shifts to photographic possibilities. I know that rays of light are leading to me something and I keep my eyes open, my senses sharpened. Like an easter egg hunt. Often, my hands itch for my bigger camera which I hardly ever take with me to work, but maybe that needs to change. Sunday, Michael bribed me into riding my scooter with him all the way across the river to where he works. He’d left something in his office that he needed for a paper he had to write for his CE class. Except when we got there, he couldn’t get into the building. So we ended up riding all that way for my bribe which was ice cream (always and forever). I hadn’t been prepared to leave the house on Sunday and didn’t really want to go on this ride, but as I was flying across the MO river, I desperately wished for my big camera. These are feelings that hibernate during the winter, this desperate urge to get the camera out and fill the memory card with pictures.

Right now my world is shifting from words to pictures. Right now, I see my world in vibrant colors and I’d rather capture it on a camera than with words.

Side note: Events have happened since writing this entry. Josephine was mauled by a dog last night as we walked to meet Michael. The owners of the dog were fast in collecting their mut and concerned for us, gave me their number, all the things. Josephine’s ear was bleeding and ears bleed like crazy. I had blood all over my hands. She had it all on her head. We stopped at Terry’s to get cleaned up and take breath from trauma. We cleaned Josephine’s ear and I washed my murder scene hands. Terry recently purchased some singing bowls and played the singing bowls to calm us. Then we went on our way. I am so grateful that Terry lives in my neighborhood and I’m just grateful for Terry. He always seems to know how to sooth. Josephine got a bath. Her wound was just a small puncture and she’s fine. This could have been so much worse for everyone involved.

Gratitude all around.

THANKFUL FRIDAY

Michael is on Spring Break this week and instead of the two of us going on a vacation, I became his driver for his first ever colonoscopy on Monday. This also meant that on Sunday, I could eat what ever I wanted because Michael was on a clear liquid diet. I made the most delicious pot of beans with kale. Michael looked over my shoulder while I stirred in the kale and said “You can have anything you want to eat and this is what you choose?!” He walked away in disgust, but I’m going to tell you that hands down, this was the best batch of beans I’ve ever cooked and because it was beans, I ended up eating it for lunch on two days.

I wasn’t mad about it.

When the nurses called me back to Michael in recovery, he was yelling “Lorraine”. I quickly discovered that Lorraine was his recovery nurse, except Michael didn’t seem to know this. When I told him about it later, he said “Who’s Lorraine?” Then I had to explain to him that Lorraine was his recovery nurse. Michael was slightly more alert when his seventeen year old doctor came in to tell us about the procedure, what they found, what to expect. They removed a few polyps, which was enough to make Michael a bit nervous. So when the pathology report came in on Wednesday with all good news, there was a bit of celebration. My back feels so much better this week, with only an occasional twinge. Michael received a clean bill of health. The cat is on the mend. Josephine, who’s only issue has been inhaling all of her food at once, is now mindfully eating from her new puzzle bowl. The Cabbage seems to be good. Right now, in this very moment, we are all healthy.

Wednesday morning, my friend/coworker Amanda and I walked over to the nature center across the street to collect pond water. Amanda’s built a microscope for taking out into the field. We call it the Planktoscope and we needed to make a video of it working for a presentation our boss is giving next week. It was a damp and foggy walk. The air was chillier than either of us had expected, but the walk was pleasant. We hadn’t made it far before I noticed the first tulip bud and said “we need to stop.” I snapped some photos and then looked at Amanda. “This is the hazard of walking outside with me.” I said. Amanda smiled and said “Strolling is my favorite form of walking.” I stopped us three more times on our little pond water collection adventure. It was enough to shine some light on my inner creative parts that have felt a bit dormant lately.

Today’s gratitude comes in the form of health. Both physical and mental. My yoga practice is slowly returning to normal. I feel like next week will be a good week to get back to the morning dog walks. Michael installed a rack and storage case to my bicycle this week and I’m truly looking forward to riding my bike to work soon. Like, my heart says ‘yes’ to this, which is unusual for me. I won the lottery for Hamilton tickets and we’re going to see Hamilton for $20 next week! The camper dealership made us a really decent offer for our camper and now we don’t have that to fret over. These are little things worth celebrating.

Good things are coming our way.

THANKFUL FRIDAY

The transition from Winter to Spring is tumultuous in my neck of the woods. There are signs of Spring by mid-March, but then everything seems to go into a holding pattern for weeks while we jump back and forth between 70 degrees and just above freezing temperatures. The greens of the tulips I have planted in my front yard have been up and out of the ground for weeks and weeks now. Some of them look like they’ve been chewed on. The same could be said for the tulips they plant in the gardens at work. The green parts have been out of the ground for ages without any hint of a bud. I have seen this all over the city with the tulips. Even the redbuds have had tiny purple or white egg shaped buds on them for week without actually blooming. The tips of the tree branches have little swirls of red or green that just might unfurl into leaves.

I thought that maybe my tulips just wouldn’t bloom. They are old bulbs and I have been told by the gardeners at work that I really should replant every three years. They replant the tulips bulbs at work every Fall. I feel like I was doing well to plant the bulbs years ago in the first place. I am surprised every year when they pop up out of the ground. It is the same feeling I have whenever I discover eggs in the chicken coop. I found four eggs in there the other day, with Margarette hovering over them because most of them were her’s. That same day, I was walking outside at work and noticed that there were flower buds nestled inside each green swirl of leaves. These were joyful moments indeed, but when I noticed that my very own tulips also had buds, my heart leaped.

Moving from Winter to Spring is a practice in patience and humility. I always think of myself as a very patient person. Yet, the time between Winter and Spring strains my patience to the thinnest when I want everything to be in bloom with consistent days of warmth. I should not have to wear my winter coat to work in April. Some times, when I am driving to a new destination, I get slightly anxious about turning on the right street. I always get the feeling that I’ve missed the street but the reality is always that I didn’t drive far enough. This was something Chris and I would laugh and joke about. It’s always further than you think. Moving into Spring is just like this except instead of driving, I am waiting. Seeing the buds on the tulips this week just tells me that we’re close. We haven’t missed it. We just haven’t waited long enough.

Drive a little further.

THANKFUL FRIDAY

The outtakes; they are the pictures I did not intend to take. They are the pictures I end up taking while attempting to get a different shot. They are mistakes. These photos are often left behind and discarded before I can even consider editing. Sometimes there are a lot of them just sitting in a holding pattern between maybe and trash. About once a month, I go into my camera app and delete them all. The camera app I use to take pictures is not the in-house camera app and it gives me the option of only storing the ones I plan on keeping directly on my phone. This way my photo album doesn’t get cluttered with a whole bunch of first pancake images.

Yet, these outtake images were the ones that I was drawn to this week. They were the ones that made me tilt my head, raise an eyebrow and think “wait. there might be something here.” The wind blowing the tulip I was focusing in on so that the bloom shifted out of frame seemed more interesting then the straight on shot I was striving to achieve. My attempt to show off my new tulle skirt, a whimsical impulse buy that has turned out to be my new favorite article of clothing, came across as delightfully messy and childish. I haven’t been unhappy with the pictures I had intended to take. Those have been nice, predictable, clean. The outtakes from this week have been a happy surprise, like finding five cookies in a package that was only supposed to have four cookies.

This is the time of year where I crawl out from under the depressive blanket I generally hide myself under during the winter months. I start to feel less like a dried up old husk of a person. Everything around me is beautiful again. I feel like making resolutions and actually sticking to them. My Instagram feed fills up with up close and personal pictures of all things in bloom and I start to feel a little bit like an actual artist. I even thought “these aren’t outtakes! This is art!” when I looked at those first pancake photos. Thinking of myself as an artist has never been easy for me. So when I have those moments that have me believing in myself, I grab onto them.

Camp Wilding, the adult summer camp where I’m teaching a workshop on phone photography, is approaching quickly. I bought a poster sized tablet to write down some talking points and I am thinking of devoting a whole page to outtakes. We are always striving for some preconceived notion of perfection. Sometimes that intense focus on achieving perfection causes us to miss the beauty of imperfection. So I would like to propose that we erase the word ‘perfection’ and shift that focus to the interesting, the beauty of the slightly off center, the deliciousness of that first pancake.

THANKFUL FRIDAY

Today, I pulled a blue egg from the chicken coop. It was perfectly intact and not frozen. I figured that Marguerite, our chicken of the blue eggs, was thinking about laying an egg when she hopped into the garage the other day. I heard her clucking around, hunting for a new place to set down an egg. Last year, she took to leaving eggs in the window well of one of the basement windows. When she was feeling really lazy, she’d just leave them in the middle of the yard. It is an Easter egg hunt year round at this homestead.

These are signs of Spring.

The week has been full of these little hints that Winter is waning. I turned a corner while walking the dog and nearly stepped on a small patch of flowers that had sprouted up on the edge of the sidewalk. Temperatures were just barely warm enough to ride the scooter to work. The green parts of my tulips are poking up out of the ground. These are the things I am grateful for this week. These are the things that have kept me going while fighting with a slide loading robot. By the way. If you are under the delusion that robots are going to take over the world, you should work with the ones I have to work with. Sentient beings they are not. Those signs of Spring have helped me battle the head cold that decided to invade my sinuses this week. I thought of all of those things while I cleaned the wall and floor behind the stove. A new one arrives tomorrow and I want everything ready to go. It was gross, but not as gross as I thought it would be. Actually, this week really threatened to kill me. If it wasn’t for that first scooter ride of the season and the flowers popping up, I probably wouldn’t even have the energy to be grateful for anything today.

So, here’s to signs of good things to come.

THANKFUL FRIDAY

The first ones of the season

10 Likes, 0 Comments - Cindy Maddera (@elephant_soap) on Instagram: "The first ones of the season"

There are three of us left working in the office and two of them are my supervisor and boss. People who can work from home are asked to do so. There is talk of everyone working from home by the end of the day, but nothing new has been announced. I have been stressed out over the idea of working from home mostly because so much of my work is hands on. There’s not much I can do from home except read articles. I have been happy to go to work this week and maintain some sort of routine, some sort of normal. It has been lonely here though. I like the people I work with. Those of us still here sort of mope around the place. I found myself crying at my desk on Wednesday because I couldn’t get my thermometer to work and that old man who has cancer in that news story the day before couldn’t go to his daughter’s wedding. It is a good time for meltdowns. No one’s here to witness it.

At lunch time on Wednesday, I threw on my jacket and marched myself out of the building. The sky was overcast, but the rain had stopped leaving the air cool and brisk. I started walking, taking the risk that it might rain on me and had the sidewalk all to myself. Crossing roads was easy due to the light traffic. As I walked, I noticed the greening of things, like the tips of bare tree limbs with tiny green buds breaking free. The black and white of Winter is slowly being colored in with red, purple, yellow and green. The bright yellow blooms of forsythia, our earliest bloomers, are a striking contrast to its still bare surroundings. I made my way up to the Nelson, which is closed right now. The sculpture garden remains open and I walked the winding trail that leads up to the east side of the Block Buildings. There, in the grassy space between the first two Block buildings, was a young woman just lying on her back staring up at the gray sky. I wondered how long she’d been there before sneaking a picture and then continuing on my way.

When you reach the space between the next two buildings, the path zigzags its way down to the south side of the Nelson. From my vantage point at the top of the zigzag, I could see just a bit of red peaking out of the courtyard and I picked up my pace. There are two small flower beds in the sculpture garden where the tulips have bloomed. Tulip greens have been up out of the ground for weeks now, but none of them have bloomed. These bright red tulips in these two almost hidden away flower beds were the first ones I have seen this season and my heart swelled at the sight of them. I had an almost unproportional reaction to the sight of them. Like something so simple should not be able to make me feel such joy. These bright little beacons of goodness popping up out of the soil were just so beautiful. Tulip season is always my favorite season but this year, more than ever, I needed to find these blooms.

Americans do not like being told what to do, but now is the time to set aside that stubborn willfulness and protect each other. Yes. It is hard. It is scary. At times it is lonely. I cannot visit my family. All of them fall into the high risk category and I cannot take the chance of the possibility of exposing them to this virus. I will not take that risk of losing them because I couldn’t follow orders. I take solace in knowing that eventually all of this will pass and this time will become a distant memory. So, for now, we hunker. Let’s not forget that we Americans are resourceful. We have been able to connect without being in the same room. Within minutes of hearing the mandates to shut down our city, dozens and dozens of people started posting about live concerts, live yoga, free books, free education classes. Online groups featuring distractions and games started forming. We have found ways to laugh and make the best of things. The CDC says we can still go outside as long as we keep our six foot distance from other people. So, GET OUTSIDE! Even if you have to bundle up or carry an umbrella or both.

Get out there and find your tulips.

STUFF I'M THINKING ABOUT

Just around the corner

4 Likes, 1 Comments - Cindy Maddera (@elephant_soap) on Instagram: "Just around the corner"

My new seed catalog from Baker Creek came in the mail yesterday and when I went out to feed the chickens, I looked around our dismal backyard. It's kind of a mess. Okay, it's not just kind of a mess. It's big mess. There's trash littered here and there from Josephine pulling garbage out of the recycle bin and stealing used Kleenex out of Michael's bedroom trash bin. Leaves are scattered every where and I never cleaned out the garden beds in the Fall. Dead growth from vines hang on everything. The backyard reminds me of a scene from the Simpsons when Maggie had to choose between a family flooded in light and surrounded by lush green beauty and her actually family standing under a thundercloud in the muck. The backyard is the thundercloud muck yard. I'd like to set the whole backyard on fire and start over. I heard they had flame throwers on sale at Harbor Freight. If I could just convince Michael that we really really needed one and that setting the backyard on fire is a good idea. 

Side note: The other day, there was something unidentifiable and gross in the sink where we set dishes to dry. Michael advised me not to worry about it at the moment. Except I didn't listen and I reached my fingers down into the drain to pull out the whatever. It turned to mush in my fingers and I immediately started gagging. Meanwhile, Michael's standing there shaking his head at me and saying "That was an ill advised move and please don't throw up in the kitchen." So I really seriously doubt I will have any support in buying a flame thrower. 

Every year, I think I'm going to create some backyard oasis for myself. I have so little space of my own in the house and I have no way of carving out any more space with out expanding walls. It is a very small house and Michael alone requires whole rooms and more than half the couch. And he'd really be happy with the whole couch to himself. He already complains that I have the end of the couch that has the chase section. Now throw in a third human, a dog and a cat. More space is not going to happen for me inside this house. But there's a huge backyard out there! I have a hammock! I have chickens to watch instead of a TV! I take allergy medicine! I could be happy in the backyard, if only the backyard looked less wild. Ideally, I would love to put some sort of tiny building back there with a porch to hang my hammock on and cushy lounging spots inside. It could be a place to meditate and do yoga. I don't know what it would be like to have actual yoga space at home. I would have a view of the chickens and the fire pit. I would look out onto a lush beautiful garden. 

This is my dream. Right now, I'd be happy with just coming up with a plan for the vegetable garden. We are notoriously good at growing food we do not eat. I mean, I eat the kale and the greens. If tomatoes happen, we eat those (last year's tomatoes were a bust). Everything else that comes up either provides us with a handful of food or goes bad before we can pick it. I am at the point of pulling the whole garden up and forgetting that space even existed. In fact, you know what I could put there? A patio. Half the grass is already dead and long gone. All I need is some sand and pavers and a little blood, sweat and tears. In fact, after writing that down for all to see, this is exactly what I want to do. I can grow kale in the herb garden and buy tomatoes from the farmer's market. I can sneak vegetables into our landscaping that we have to do around the house to prevent water from leaking into the basement. 

Spring is so close. The chickens are laying eggs again and I noticed the first sprout of tulips coming up. We are in that in between stage of seasons where we are easily lulled into believing in Spring even though it's going to snow at least two more times before the end of March. I feel extra complainy and twitchy. I'm starting to get that fever for cleaning out and making joyful changes. The garden just doesn't bring me as much joy as it does work. Of course, the minute I open up that seed catalog, I might change my mind. 

THANKFUL FRIDAY

They're like little hats

8 Likes, 2 Comments - Cindy Maddera (@elephant_soap) on Instagram: "They're like little hats"

I went to upload some pictures to foap earlier this week. It had been awhile since I had added anything new. I've sort of lost interest and even forget about foap because I haven't sold any pictures. The market is saturated with images. This app is turning into more of a social media app with options to enter contests. I have plenty of 'likes' and 'four stars' on this app, but how many social media 'likes' and 'four stars' do I really need. I also don't have time to keep up with it all. The same is true for other apps I've been using to sell some clothes I never wear. I am this close to pulling the plug on both of them and just sending all my clothes to thredUp and just taking whatever they give me for them. Anything to just get them out of the house. I lack the patience required for online boutique ownership. Turns out that online selling for me is about the same as putting together a garage sale. A lot of work for not a lot in return. 

Back to the pictures. I was scrolling through my phone pictures for things to upload and I realized that most of the pictures in my phone right now are pictures of flowers. There are enough flowers inside my phone to fill several vases. Spring has brought the usual pops of color with all varieties of tulips and redbud trees. The side walks are dusted with flower petals as if someone's been skipping around tossing confetti. Spring time is beautiful and apparently I tend to photograph a whole lot of it. I don't think it's so much because of the flowers as much as it is because of the colors. I do the same thing in the Fall. The flower pictures will be replaced with tons of pictures of leaves in various form. Right now, I am enamored with the white tulips that are blooming at work. In the mornings, the are closed up tight, but by the afternoon they have all opened up to look like little hats. If I look at them under just the right angle of sunlight, the white petals become almost transparent. The kind of skin you can see through. 

I am thankful for the bright colors of Spring. I am thankful for the ability to see those colors. I say that because I'm just about out the door, headed to the eye doctor. I am thankful for the opportunity to teach a fun and very successful yoga workshop last weekend. It gave me a renewed sense of teaching confidence that I needed. I am thankful for cauliflower. I am thankful scooter days. I am thankful for moments on my yoga mat. I am thankful for you.

Here's to a weekend of adult Easter egg hunts and colored eggs and blessed Thankful Friday.

STARS GONE BLUE MY GEORGIA I STILL LOVE YOU

My reward for working in the garden and getting things planted.

4 Likes, 1 Comments - Cindy Maddera (@elephant_soap) on Instagram: "My reward for working in the garden and getting things planted."

There were towels ready to come out of the dryer for folding and sheets in the washing machine ready for drying. I needed to search the internet for a dinner plan. I had planned on making a curry, but I needed guidance on what spices to use and how much. There were things that needed to be done, but here I was lounging in my hammock. I found that I could gently rock my hammock by reaching over my head and grabbing the hammock stand and giving it a shove with my fingers. I would gently rock my hammock side to side while my eyes drifted close. "Someone should make one of those timer contraptions like what's on those baby swings for swinging hammocks on hammock stands." I told this to Josephine because she was the only one around at the time when the thought entered my head. 

There was (is) a dime sized blister on the pad of my right thumb. I kept pressing my index finger to it, feeling the raw sore layer of skin now exposed because the blister had broken. It is proof of the work I did that morning. I watched a bright red cardinal jump into the honeysuckle that had started to grow along the top of the fence. I could see bits of red as he foraged around inside and wondered if maybe there was a nest tucked in there. I felt certain that if I got up and moved some of the vines away, I'd see a nest with three little eggs. I pulled on the hammock stand again, swinging my hammock. I stopped thinking about the things I should be doing and closed my eyes to the sun shining on my face.  Michael finished mowing the front yard. He cleaned off the mower and then dragged a chair over to where I laid in my hammock. 

We chatted about nothing. I told Michael my idea about the automatic hammock swinger. He told me about his idea for a privacy fence and new driveway. We talked about food for Michael's graduation party and what or if we should do anything about backyard lighting. I might hang some lights on the clothes line so no one runs into it. I tell Michael about the cardinal I saw in the honeysuckle. He tells me about how he mowed the front yard twice. We are quiet for a minute. That minute stretches to two, five, enough to feel like hours pass by as I swing myself in my hammock. Finally I tell him that it should be prescribed that I spend at least one hour out of every weekend in my hammock. Michael agrees whole heartedly. He already thinks that I don't sit still for long enough periods of time, buzzing around from chore to chore. There's always something that needs to be done. 

The clouds thicken and the wind shifts from light breeze to windy, bringing a chill with it. This is my cue. I peel myself out of my hammock, unhook it from the stand and fold it up as I carry it back inside to finish the things that need to be done. 

THANKFUL FRIDAY

It begins

4 Likes, 1 Comments - Cindy Maddera (@elephant_soap) on Instagram: "It begins"

Monday was the first day of Spring and Tuesday I noticed the first tulip bloom as if a director had just stage whispered "Tulips, enter stage left.....NOW!" I have struggled with what to write for today's post, have in fact deleted a number of different entries. Spring always rattles me and I become easily distracted. A list of things that I want to do or that I feel needs doing begins to form in my head, often becoming too long and therefor overwhelming. This week, I have remembered that I have planned nothing for this year's garden. I realized this as I noticed one sprig of asparagus sticking up out of the ground in the garden bed by the back door. The garden beds are currently cleaned out with the exception of a weed here and there. The soil has not been turned or mulched or fertilized. They are empty slates waiting for the next thing.

Gratitude comes in the smallest, simplest of ways this week. It is the beginning of the Monet season where landscapes become impressionist paintings and every thing takes on a dreamy quality. I welcome it every Spring despite the sneezes and runny nose. I am thankful for the variety of blooms that pop up out of the ground and way the air smells after it rains. I am thankful for those days I ride the scooter and have to race the rain. I am thankful for moments of quiet stuck between moments of bustle. I am thankful for time to clean out so that I can be like those garden boxes, waiting for the next thing.

I am thankful for you.

Here's to a spectacular weekend and short and sweet Thankful Friday.  

THANKFUL FRIDAY

Instagram photo by Cindy Maddera * Feb 3, 2016 at 9:18pm UTC

See this Instagram photo by @elephant_soap * 6 likes

This morning, I stepped outside and walked. I walked all the way around the fountains and back to my desk and I didn't wear a coat, only a light sweater. The wind was blowing, but the sun reflecting off the windows, warmed my face. Minutes later clouds would come in and block the sun, but for that tiny moment, it was mine. Adele was singing Send My Love into my headphones, which made me want to skip along the sidewalk. I looked down to see the tips of green things popping out of the ground, the early signs of tulips. In just a matter of weeks, all the flower beds around here will be filled with tulips. My heart lifted.

I know that this is a tease. Next week we will see cooler temperatures. It will float back and forth between cold and comfortable for weeks. It may even snow a time or too before Mother Nature gives in and declares it officially Spring. I know that I should remind my lifting heart of all of those things and tell it to not get too excited. I know that in a couple of days when the temperatures drop, I will be slightly crushed. But for now? For right this minute? I'm going to relish in this teasing moment of Spring. I'm going to walk outside. I'm going to make plans to clear the garden and work in the yard. I'm going make sure the scooter tires and the bicycle tires are aired up so I can be ready at any moment to ride on two wheels. I am going to let my heart be lifted.

And I am going to be grateful for all of it. 

Today, I am thankful for sunshine and Fun Dip. I am thankful for new headphones which sounds silly, but my other ones broke and I couldn't listen to music for two whole days. I am thankful for dentist appointments where they tell me what an amazing job I've done at flossing and how I'm the best patient. I am thankful for those moments when I can breathe through my nose, mint tea with honey and Kleenex. I am thankful for you.

Happy weekend and happy Thankful Friday!

LOVE THURSDAY

Delicate #365

"Delicate #365"

The Carpenter's Christmas Waltz has been running in a loop in my head these days. Yes, I know it's a Christmas song and Karen's singing about frosted window pains, candles, candy canes and Santa being on his way with lots of goodies on his sleigh. It's the second chorus of that song that I keep humming. "It's that time of year when the world falls in love." In fact, that's the only line of the song that just seems to be set on perpetual repeat in my brain. This sounds like a particularly annoying ear worm situation, but I am not in the least bothered by it.

When I stepped outside yesterday to walk across to the other building for yoga class, I almost started skipping. Most of the tulips in the circle drive have bloomed into a lovely circle of pinks, yellows, orange and whites. The sun was on my face and the breeze lifted up the tiny petals from the Bradford Pair tree blossoms so that the swirled around in that magical way you only see in cartoons. You see, it really is that time of year when the world falls in love. 

I had about half an entry going already before I erased it all and started again. It was about how much I love the chickens (of course). I've always been attracted to those gardens with the bubbling fountains. I really like the little garden fountain that has the chimes floating around that ding when they occasionally bump into each other. There have been moments while walking through such a garden where I have felt myself be truly still. The chickens have become my babbling chiming fountain. They bring to me the same kind of peace and calm. The chickens are an easy Love Thursday entry, but then there was that moment yesterday when I stepped outside. I remembered that every season has that moment when the world falls in love. 

In the winter there is the magic of that first falling snow flake. The Fall brings the beauty of the changing leaves and all the trees are painted red and gold. Summer is that first cannon ball into the pool. Spring is special. It is the season of beginnings. New tulips. New leaves on the trees. It is the start of the cycle of things, the beginning of the loop of seasonal change. I wrote recently about the first day of Spring and not having any energy for it. I realize now that I'm like those tulips in the circle drive. It started out with one bloom. For many days that one tulip stood alone, but one by one more started to open up. It just took time. Things are clicking into place like a giant Rude Goldberg machine. Seeds for this year have been sorted. The new garden boxes have arrived. There are chickens in our basement. And Karen Caprenter is singing about the world falling in love. 

Happy Love Thursday!