Facebook Thoughts

I signed onto Facebook so many years ago. It has been nice to reconnect with friends and acquaintances from the past and keep up with friends nearby whom I don't get to see frequently enough.  I have enjoyed sending birthday wishes, seeing pictures of children and grandchildren. It has been a great way to catch up. Most often I have signed in to acknowledge milestones, laugh at a meme, get some inspiration from a sassy blonde who knows how to work a crown and wears a lot of pink, and just say hi!

Now it is time to tune it out for awhile. Facebook has become a battleground. It is not somewhere I need to linger. I know, I should be strong and skip over what I don't want to see, but I am guilty of getting sucked down the rabbit hole. And man, that hole can be sad and paralyzing.  As we have sunk deeper into this pandemic it seems Facebook has become the platform for anger, meanness and fear mongering. I am a believer if something does not make you better, than it is time to put it aside. And, for me I think it is time for me to bow out of Facebook for awhile.

I do hope, if any of my Facebook friends are reading this, you might take pause to think about what is being shared and posted. I know how easy it is to sit behind a screen and feel anonymous. I do it here and on instagram, pretending to be a writer, a book reviewer or whatever I want to be at any given moment. I am guilty of sharing information I haven't fully checked out... last night trying to be super helpful I forwarded a phone number that ended up being a UK number. Friends, I get it! Perhaps before sharing we should ask: is it true... is it helpful... is it kind... am I being part of the solution.

More than any moment during my lifetime have I felt the need to really pay attention to those reading or listening to my ramblings. We are in a dark time. There is so much going on around us. I don't know when or if we will ever go back to exactly the way we were. I do know,

I want to be surrounded by light and I want to be a lighthouse. 

Know behind this screen I am smiling and cheering you on. If you see me out and about, I promise there is a smile behind my mask just for you!

*****

Just a note to those who commented on my last post... it was so good to hear from you. Thank you for visiting and commenting. I have missed meeting you here. I really am going to try to do better. A couple of you ask if I am going to teach this year. Yes I am. I am not going to lie, I am a bit nervous, but I have an amazing Headmistress. I know we will be doing everything possible to stay safe. Thank you again! The new Blogger is sort of throwing me. Let me know if it is still possible to reply individually to comments. Hugs friends!

Where to Pick Up

July!!!

It was a busy busy spring... wrapping up the school year, enjoying extended visits with my beautiful daughter and amazing grandchildren, and of course... reading.

You know I do the reading for you... right?
Yes, it all for you!

  I've been posting a lot on my  (somewhat) new instagram account, bee_tweenthelines.  It is a heavy on book suggestions, with a sprinkling of blooms and fun in the kitchen.  It is a public account. If these things interest you, I would love for you to join me.

I have warned you in the past...

 When those squeaky wheels in my brain start turning, I can be a bit dangerous.  Stir in time and a few conversations with my daughter (there may have been some bubbly involved)...
it can get explosive around here.

I don't know if anything will become of all this talk; hopefully I'll have something to share this fall.
I'll keep you posted.  

In the meantime, I'll be reading, cooking and sharing with you here.

Now I'm off to see what you have been up to.

Happy Reading Friends!

Where Are You Autumn?

Autumn...  
(sigh)

I begin anticipating autumn sometime around midsummer.   Here in Arkansas, summers can be brutal, with temps staying at or above 100 degrees for a couple of weeks or more.  This past summer was mild.... bearable... dare I say, pleasant.   Autumn arrived, and mother nature decided to play a trick, enveloping us with heat and humidity.    I am ready for sweaters and boots , but this southern girl is still occasionally wearing linen.  I know, a well-raised southerner never wears linen after Labor Day... friends, I had to let that one go and walk away.  The meteorologists keep saying one more week... I'm beginning to think they are just messing with my emotions.

I know you have all decorated for Autumn, haven't you?  Though I usually can't wait to pick out my pumpkins,  switch out petunias for pansies and mums, I just can't think about it with temperatures in the high 80s.   I looked at pumpkins this weekend... I couldn't get excited.   This is my one lone little pumpkin.  Sad, isn't it?  I'll keep you posted on my Fall decorations.  Perhaps something will happen next weekend.

Playing in the Kitchen

One of my favorite things about Autumn is pulling out favorite recipes, and playing in the kitchen.   I usually begin with my pumpkin bread.  This weekend R. was craving pie, and I know apple is his favorite.   I turned down the air conditioner, starting peeling granny smiths  and turned out an apple pie.   It was pretty yummy.  The aroma of apples baking mixed with cinnamon and nutmeg wafting through 

the rooms...   divine.

Do you have a favorite autumn recipe?

What I'm Reading

These may have jumped into my hands recently.

Just sayin'...  I'm finding little bits of everything I love about this beautiful season between these pages.

You know this is my favorite time of the year, for so many reasons.  

I love the colors, the aromas, the renewed energy, and not least of all, the food.

What is your favorite thing about Fall?

Happy Autumn friends!

May 9, 2010

May 9, 2010

My first post.
My first disclaimer.

In that post so many years ago, there is no picture, only one paragraph.  There were no "followers" to read it.  There were no welcoming comments.

I recently listened to a HopeWriter's podcast on if and when the writer might need to "pivot",  change direction.  I've thought about it a lot lately, but then when I read my opening statement I'm still pretty fond of my beginning direction.  Today I might tweak it a bit... I've given up on perfection.

My passion is to find the beauty, the blessings, in the ordinary.... a kitchen experiment,  a good book, a beautiful flower, a garden visitor, a trip with my husband or an outing with my grandchildren.

We live in  a stress filled broken world.  It seems everyone is thirsty for something that unbeknownst to most of us is just under our nose.  My hope is through sharing my journey, my faith,  I give you something to make you smile, and maybe ponder.

Thank you for visiting.
Thank you for staying.

I write for me, but you keep me encouraged.




  

    

Sunday Thoughts... Rest with no guilt

"If we do not allow for a rhythm of rest in our overly busy lives, 

illness becomes our Sabbath---our pneumonia, our cancer, our heart attack, 

our accidents create Sabbath for us".

Wayne Muller,  Sabbath

(taken from  "Rhythms of Rest)

Spring Break...Resting and recharging...

no guilt!

This was my instagram post a week ago.   And.... this is pretty much how I spent my week. 
I have done nothing, and I have done everything.

When I left school Friday, the beginning of a week long break, I was exhausted.  I wasn't physically tired, my spirit was empty.  I left feeling like I had nothing left to give.  I had allowed too many things to weigh on my heart.   Some things are worthy of taking up space, the rest is clutter.   I allow the clutter to gather and empty me.

Worthy or not, very little can I control.  I don't know about you, but it is those things I cannot make better that wear down the heart... the soul... the spirit.  Everyone has something, some place, someone they go to when the well is empty.  Would it surprise you it was a book where I rested this week?

This was one of those finds placed in front of me so often, I had to pick it up to see what it was all about.  Yes... I do believe things are set in our path when we need them.

Shelly Miller shares her thoughts and experiences on implementing the practice of rest, Sabbath.  The older I get the more I realize I can't do it all.  About 70 + pages in I was slapped in the face with a question.  "Do you often help others, but rarely, if ever, admit you need help?  If your answer is yes, you may be deriving a false sense of self-worth."   I wrote to the side.... maybe.    Just days before stumbling into those words I had been ask by the one closest to my heart, "Why do you think you have to do everything yourself?"  Bam!

The jewel I take away from this book (I think each reader will take away what they are needing)  rest is not sitting down for a day, but learning to take a block of time to put away the work, the chores and do what fills you... curling up with a book, pulling weeds in the garden, writing, cooking a great meal, enjoying a glass of wine and conversation with a good friend.   I can implement rest on my terms and my schedule... and not feel guilty.

From the back of the book,
"Sabbath is a from God to be embraced, not a spiritual hoop to jump through..."

My book is filled with underlinings, asterisks and sticky tabs.   There is so much rich text between the covers, I will be referring back for encouragement often.   Learning to put the "have to" to the side for awhile will take some intentional practice.

And, on the other end of the spectrum.  I recently finished Trials of the Earth by Mary Mann Hamilton.  This was a book group read, though not my selection, I pushed for this one during our book selection.   When I began the book, the simplicity of the writing pulled me in, but caused me to wonder how my fellow readers would review it.

 
Trials of the Earth, is Mary Mann Hamilton's remarkable life's story.  The simplicity of the writing is what made this autobiography enjoyable.   Her story is one of heartbreak, one disaster after another, and true love.  Though she often speaks of needing rest there was never time.   Her life is spent raising and burying children, running a boardinghouse, living in a logging camps,  watching one dream after stolen, and never losing faith in a husband with a mysterious past.

I finished Trials of the Earth, after our book discussion (everyone seemed to enjoy it... the discussion was lively), and....
I loved, loved, loved this book.

Today is my last day of spring break and I am ready to return.
I hope you are enjoying a restful weekend doing what gives you rest.
I hope you will share where and how you find rest when you are depleted.

Thoughts on a Difficult Week

Here we are Saturday, November 12, 2016....

 we survived the week.

And, it has been a stressful week.  In my PollyAnna way I thought no matter how the election turned out we would return to life as we knew it.  We would all pitch in and work together.   I was wrong and so very disappointed.

I am going to be honest here.  My candidate was not in the running.    I pretty much removed myself from social media, Facebook,  because I was losing respect for many on both sides.  There was a time I believed I could not with a good conscience vote.  Arguments for both sides seemed seriously flawed in my eyes.  Yet, Tuesday I walked into my polling place, said a short prayer and cast my vote.  (Please do not assume, I prayed, therefore you know for whom I voted)

Wednesday morning we awoke as divided as we were on Tuesday.  Those who tried to bridge the two sides with prayer and kind words were trampled.   Some continued the spewing and others took to the streets in protest.  In my opinion neither is bringing us together as a country, and that friends, truly breaks my heart.  

Last night, I went to see "The Crucible" at our repertory theater.   As a teenager there was a time I was obsessed with the Salem witch trials, and yes, I voluntarily read Arthur Miller's play, "The Crucible".   At fifteen I was awed by the spectacle of it all.  And, I question God.   Last night, it was the injustice caused by fear mongering and mass hysteria that pulled me into the story.  And I knew though his name was thrown around,  God was neither invited to nor in attendance at that party.   Does any of this sound relevant to this past year?

Throughout the play, I wanted everyone to step back, take a deep breath, put egos aside and think about what they were doing.   It dawned on me this is exactly how I have felt throughout this whole election year.   As the second act was coming to it's conclusion, though I knew the outcome, I wanted it to be different than what I remembered.   I wanted a happy ending.

So here is my PollyAnna thoughts at the end of this week.  

Winners, congratulate yourself...  Losers, lick you wounds.  

We can have a happy ending!  

Let's step back, breathe, set aside our egos, stop the pointing of fingers and remember both sides are filled with good, honorable and intelligent folks.  Success comes through work, blending of ideas and compromise.   And yes, I believe prayer.   It is my humble belief we all want the same thing, a great country and world for generations to come. 

I hope I have not offended.  

I write this as salve for my own heart.   I do not grieve for an election, 

but for my dear country that is great, but so divided.  

I welcome your opinions; I know they will be kind.

Gently and peaceful thoughts my friends!

Friday Pondering

Happy Friday friends!

I hope you have had a grand week.  I have been spending a lot of time at school... at least it feels like it.  This is a busy time of year, with three major holidays back to back.  It is all good and a lot fun, though I am happy to have the afternoon off today.

Recently while catching up with my favorite blogs I happened upon a couple of writers addressing thoughts of closing down.  At least one mentioned  needing fresh inspiration.  It hit home.  I've posted a few times of my own struggles with my writing.  Needing "fresh inspiration"  put a face on my own endeavor to put something of substance worth sharing here on my pages.

Do you ever go back and read your past posts?  I think I've ask this question before.  Last night while searching for something I thought I had posted, I found myself reading back through  several months of posts.   As I read, I remembered the joy I found in writing, and hearing back from you.   As I revisited many of your comments I realized how much I learned through your kind and wise words.  Sometimes one must go back to go forward.

Though I continue to seek  that "fresh inspiration", I still feel this is a very happy place to be.   And, you are the ones who make it so. 

Sending you wishes for the best week-end ever!

July's Book Frenzy

It is sweltering here.  The temps have been high, and this week our heat index is nearing 110. It's the perfect time to grab a glass of iced tea and settle down with a good book...

or we could sit and chat about a good book.

My taste in literature, as you can see,  is eclectic to say the least.  

 Southern literature is probably closest to my heart... I have deep roots in the south, and many of our southern writers can return me home with the turn of the page.   My southern picks this month are Tom Franklin's Crooked Letter, Crooked Letter, and Meanwhile there are Letters, the Correspondence of Eudora Welty and Ross McDonald.

Although, Crooked Letter, Crooked Letter has been on my radar and my to-read list for several years, it wasn't until I was invited to sit in on a new acquaintance's book group I found it necessary to finally read it.  I can't believe I took so long to pick it up.  With the backdrop of a small Mississippi town, Tom Franklin delivers a raw and haunting story of lives forever changed by indiscretions, secrets, lies of omission, and redemption.  This book kept me thinking long after I turned the last page.   Another book I enjoyed by Franklin (co-authored with his wife) is The Tilted World.

I am slowly savoring Meanwhile there are Letters.    My words cannot do justice to this book, so I will share Ann Patchett's praise,   "What could be better than a love built on friendship, and friendship built on letters?  To catch a glimpse into the inner lives of these tender, brilliant, bookish souls is a thrill beyond measure."   We are often given the chance to view a favorite author through a biographer's words.  Sometimes the writer will give us what he or she wants us to know with a memoir.   Here we are allowed into Welty's thoughts and private life through personal letters I doubt she had any intention of sharing.  If you're not familiar with Eudora Welty, The Optimist's Daughter is one of my favorites.

This post seems to be getting a bit long and wordy so I will share my thoughts the other books another time.

Sit down, have a glass of tea and let me know how you are beating the summer heat.

What's your favorite genre?

What are you reading this week?

  

******

I can't close without saying, the events, both in our country and around the world, of the past few weeks are weighing heavy on my heart.  I cannot begin a day without thinking of and praying for the men, women, families, whose lives have been forever changed.  This I know and where I find comfort... light will win over the darkness.

"You must understand this, my beloved; 

let everyone be quick to listen,

 slow to speak, 

slow to anger"

James 1:19   

How Do You Begin Your Day?

"...whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is of good repute, if there is anything worthy of praise, dwell on these things.  

Philippians 4:8

I hope you have had a fabulous first week of summer!  June is flying by here.  School was out the last week of May just in time to make a quick trip out of town to celebrate my grandson's second birthday.  A week later my daughter and children came for a two week visit I dubbed "Camp Bee".  It was all about having fun!

Camp Bee coincided with my two weeks of my schools summer playdays.  This year's playdays was a special time for me, my grandson had the chance to attend.   His room was across from my classroom, so I had the chance to peek in and check on him.   He had the best time with his new found independence;  I had the best time watching him.  

When we were not at the school, we worked in the garden, went swimming, ate ice cream, had pizza night and generally had a grand time.  Bonnie Rose enjoyed watching and napping.  I am keeping my fingers crossed Camp Bee becomes an annual event; I have plans... it can only get better.... right?

This week has been a quiet one without the chatter of my little ones' voices.  I am easing into my summer morning routine.   During the school year I don't have the luxury of quietly beginning the day.  Now I can take my time.  My day begins as I grab a cup of coffee and iPad, and head outside to spend some quiet time with my morning readings and listening to the sounds of summer.   I count on this time.  It sets the tone for my day, and it is a good thing. 

How do you begin your day? 

Do you start off slowly

 or do you bounce out of bed ready to conquer the world?

Have a fabulous weekend!

Sometimes It Happens...

Sometimes it happens... a book is opened, and somewhere among the pages we stumble upon a sentence, a phrase, a group of words that sit down in the most comfortable chair
 and linger with us. 

"...it is about nothing, about the many nothings of ordinary life that somehow arrange, symphony-like, into the whole of everything".

I happened upon this group of phrases  just as I was finishing Margaret Eby's book, South Toward Home.  (We'll chat about the book later.)   Though Eby writes these words to describe John Kennedy Toole's book, A Confederacy of Dunces, I keep returning to them, because, it is in these  "nothings of ordinary life" that I find everyday blessings.    

I find it so easy with today's social media to get caught up in the wanting better and more.    We need only to log in for a few minutes to begin reading that everyone else is off on the best vacation, has the best relationship, friends, house, children...  Everyone else's life is filled with all these spectacular moments...  you get where I am going.   I don't know about you, but I often sigh and think what if.   Then I land, usually face down caused my own blindness... 

 Summer mornings sitting outside with a cup of coffee, my morning readings and listening to the sounds of summer...  meals around my own dinner table with family and friends...  watching the joy on my grandson's face as he licks a popsicle.    Extraordinary is great, and I am grateful for all those adventures, but nothing compares to my nothings.   It is recognizing and accepting the blessings of the moment to moment, the ordinary,  that stitch together and create a rich, and spectacular life.  

**** 
  Perhaps it is the southern humidity, the intoxicating smell of  magnolias, or the over indulgence of spirits... no one can create a multi-layered, damaged yet heroic character or spin the  tragedy/drama/comedy tale like the southern writer.  (this southerner's personal opinion, of course.)   South Toward Home, is the ultimate road trip for the southern lit lover wanting an insight into the lives, people and places that inspired some of the south's most infamous (Welty, O'Connor, Faulkner, Lee, Capote and Toole) southern authors, and maybe a few not found on everyone's reading list, but no less talented.  Each chapter stands alone, so no need to feel like you must tackle this journey in one trip.

My favorite son(-in-law), picked out this book for me while we were browsing one of my favorite bookstores, Lemuria in Jackson, Mississippi.  Thanks for the great suggestion,
loved it!

Now I want to get into the car, fill-up the gas tank, and trace Eby's tire treads.  
Anyone up for a southern road trip?

I hope you are reading something fabulous!

Seven Years of Ramblings

Seven years ago one of my moms suggested I write a blog.  I played around a bit, then one Saturday morning in May  I gathered the courage, wrote a profile and hit publish.    

Wow, seven years ago!  

The first year or so I spent finding my voice.  I sometimes go back to reread my post... some are so far off the mark and some surprise me.  There are posts that I became so passionate about my subject I lost track of my writing and it became gibberish.   In the beginning, like many beginning bloggers, I battled between developing a blog persona and wanting to be authentic.   I hope I have been and continue to be successful at being real.

Where do I go from here?  
A lot has happened over the last few years.   I'm learning to accept imperfection and enjoy the process and time saved.  I honestly don't know where I'm headed.  I am going to stop worry about quantity.  I have a few ideas running around in my head.  I'm doing a little test driving on Instagram.  Join me if you are interested, livingbeeslife.   I do know, I will continue to share God's blessings found in ordinary moments of Living Life.   

Thank you for reading, lifting me up and helping me through the last seven years.  I appreciated each and everyone of you and all of your comments.

Hugs and wishes for a great weekend!

And He Whispers, Slow Down

Have you ever found yourself running around in circles trying to catch-up...

make someone happy... stay on course.   When I start playing catchup I'm have visions of the old "spinning plate" circus act.    A performer comes into the ring where several tall stakes have been placed; his assistant follows, holding a stack of plates.  He begins by placing one plate atop a stake and starts it spinning, then another and another.  The idea was to keep all the plates spinning at one time.  By the time he had the last one going, the first would begin to wobble, and he would rush back to start it spinning again.   He was constantly running from pole to pole hoping to keep each plate balanced and rotating.   I don't know about you, but when I start moving from one task to another, trying to keep all my "dishes" perfectly balanced and moving, something almost always happens.

This happened to me last week.  I slipped back into the classroom knowing I had a ton of things waiting to be finished.  Though I prepared for my absence, and good friends generously helped with things while I was away, I had to jump in running.  It was program week and Mother's Day gifts needed to be finished and wrapped.  I began with my usual "bird by bird" pace,  but quickly began feeling behind and moving from one task to another.   I kept telling myself, " it will all get finished".  I couldn't sleep.  I would wake up thinking about everything I needed to do, everything everyone else needed me to do; I would say a little prayer and begin making my lists.  My plates were spinning at break neck speed.

Program day finally arrived.  My prayers were answered, I had checked almost everything off my list.  Though a voice in my head kept saying, "relax, your almost there", I wasn't satisfied.  I didn't want to listen.  I wanted control.  I wanted to be finished, and the only thing left was to have the children sign their Mother's Day cards and attach them to the gifts.   Each signed their name as they arrived, and I began attaching them to the wrapped packages.  Ten minutes before showtime and everything was going smoothly.  I announced we needed to pick-up and get ready to line-up.  I turned around to tie one more bow, when I felt eleven small bodies rush against me for hugs.  I heard a book fall, a plate slide and... crash... it happened so quickly,  I didn't have time to react... the full tumbler of coffee,  I had so carefully place at the back of my counter, turn over, spilling coffee everywhere...papers were soaked and as were the wrapped Mother's Day presents and just finished cards. 

I could blame my children for the mess, for the extra work, but in reality I was trying to do too many things at one time.  I had ignored the voice telling me to relax, I wanted to tie one last bow... check that final thing off my list.   Then, God whispered a little bit louder with eleven sets of arms and a bump..."slow down".

I often need to be reminded answered prayers are seldom accompanied by drums and bugles, but with whispers.   Sometimes when we fail to listen to that little voice in our head the whisper becomes a soft roar. 

In their hearts humans plan their course, but the Lord establishes their steps.

Proverbs 16:9              

January Projects

January is the perfect time to purge and organize;
and, of this ( below) I am not proud!

One of my to do projects this past weekend was to clear out...

reorganize the not too big, laundry room.

I recently (two weeks ago) was forced to purchase a new washer and dryer.  I had spent the afternoon "doing" laundry and dried one too many loads.  It started with a low bump.. bump.. bump rhythm, then escalated to the machine jitterbugging across the floor to an ear piercing thumpty thump thump thump.  Thankfully the load in the dryer was very close to being dry.  By the time I demonstrated the dryer's new act to R., the dogs were begging to visit the vet, and...
the towels were fully dry.

I really didn't need a new washer.  Honestly, I was fully prepared to have a, oh my gosh,  non-matching  set.  We all know a good salesman can sell you what you don't need, while making you think you made that decision all on your own.  I ask all the right questions, like... will this model still be available in six months?   And,  he answered with the always predictable and solemn, "I can't promise".  So, of course, we purchased the matching washer.  I suppose it was a good thing, as the washer stopped washing mid-cycle the next day.  Can you imagine the state I would be in had I not succumbed to the pressure and passed on the washing machine?

I promise, it would not have been pretty. 

The point of this digression is, washers and dryers are much larger than they were ten or so years ago.  Meaning,  some things in the laundry room needed to be sorted, rearranged and cast out.  Phew!

Yes, I am not proud I had a shelf stacked with magazines.
   Seriously, there are magazines in that collection dating to the turn of the century....
the 21st century.

I know I'm not alone.  You get it,
don't you?

  

There's always a beautiful cover.

 Bon Appetite always has a recipe or two begging to be saved

for the right occasion.  One day,

I'll pull it out and make that amazing cake.

And, I'll remember exactly the issue it is in.

Right!

And seriously, does anyone throw away their Food & Wines?

And, I haven't even begun going through the Thanksgiving and Christmas issues or the Oxford Americans and Garden and Gun.  They are on another shelf.

Okay, I'm not really going to go through them. 

 I'm boxing them up; not looking at them.  

Yes, they're all boxed up and off to the recycle bin.

 But wait, Ohhhh, didn't that meyer lemon cake look yummy?

Please tell me it isn't in the bottom of the box.

Ahhh, there it is.

Maybe I should just keep this one.

I have a freshly emptied shelf.

What do you think?

I still have a few lemons waiting to be picked.....

I will share....

Okay, I heard you.

I'm making a copy.

And...

I have the perfect spot for it. 

Please, help me remember, 

I'm putting it just inside that big over-stuffed folder of recipes.

The one on the bottom shelf in the laundry room.

Do you save magazines, or do you throw them away after you've looked at them?

I really need someone to tell me I am not in this alone.

Seriously, this is my year to throw out,  

and nothing is sacred.

Hugs!

Writing

Happy New Year!

I know it is closer to Valentine's Day than New Year's...
this is just how my life has been running the last few years.

We had our first snow overnight.
For me, it means a day of no school.

I have a book I'm anxious to get back to reading, and more than a few projects begging to be tackled (like a pantry and a closet), but what I really want to do is to sit down and write.

I have always wanted to write.  Which may explain my love of reading.  As a child I wrote imaginary tales.  My dad called them "fantastical" (I never mistakenly thought he used this as a form of fantastic).    When I was older I moved to writing mysteries, then onto poetry and stories filled with teenage angst.  A pen and a notepad were a favorite and constant companion.   Often when I am craving to pick up a pencil and write, I remember a story of a young girl who wanted to write fiction.

Once  in a distant time and place, a teacher assigned her seventh grade class the task of writing both a non-fiction and a fiction story.   One student in particular loved writing and telling far-fetched stories.  Receiving the assignment she tackled her least favorite first.  She was not particularly fond of reading non-fiction, and found researching a bit boring.  She didn't like using someone else's words.   Her dad had recently taught her how to use his "fancy" camera.  She would write her non-fiction piece about her dad teaching her to take photographs. She wrote down everything he had taught her.  She checked out books at the library.    She edited and reedited to condense all her information to fit
 the one page limit.  And, she was pleased.

With her camera story behind her, she pulled out her favorite pen  and began writing a white knuckled suspense story of two children exploring an abandoned house and finding an escaped convict hiding in a small room off the old creaky stairs leading to the attic.  The story clearly had a beginning, a climax and an end... in a seventh grade kind of way.   She edited and reedited to make sure her story fit the one page limit.   And, she was pleased.

The two assignments were labeled, and turned in.  The next week papers were returned.  The child anxiously awaited her graded work.   This was when she was surely going to shine.  She waited while everyone else reviewed their returned work.  Finally, the teacher ask her to come up to her desk.

The teacher handed her the non-fiction piece.  The grade was a B, okay, but not very interesting.   The teacher held the other assignment in her hand.  She looked at it, and looked into the girl's face.  She ask if the child understood the assignment.  The child nodded.  Reaching out the teacher placed the paper in front of the student.  At the top of the paper was the biggest, brightest red F the girl
 had ever seen.

The teacher looked at the child and explained, "I had to give you an F, because you labeled this fiction.  It should have been turned in with the non-fiction papers".  Confused, and with tears brimming her eyes, the child told the teacher it was fiction, it was a made-up story.  The teacher questioned the girl about the characters, and parts of the story, then picked up her pen and added an additional leg to F to make it an A.  She handed the girl the paper.  "If you continued to practice you could be a writer one day."

The girl did not continue to practice.  She grew up, the world grew loud and life happened.  She still loves to write.  She said in the New Year should get back to her writing.  Now, she suddenly finds she is standing nearer to Valentine's Day than New Years.

What a blessing a snow day can become.
Stay warm dear friends.
I'm off to tackle a project....
or maybe just settle in with my book.

I have so many books to write about....
 I'm going to need another snow day!

Enjoy!   

Time Passed

"Some things in life are out of your control.  You can make it a party or a tragedy."

Nora Roberts

I didn't mean to be away so long.
 One thing happened, then another.

Summer passed, I remember so little;
 now autumn is half gone.
One thing happened, then another.

A school year ended, and before I found time to breathe,
a fresh group of faces danced through my classroom door.
One thing happened, then another.

Time passed.

I've missed writing.
I've missed dreaming.
I've missed reading.
I've missed our conversations here.

I've been needed.
At times I feel I've lost control...
Then, I remember, lessons are learned, and
 blessings are found
 when we let go.

Time is precious, and doesn't stand still,
but when you are needed, wanted,
 it is not so hard to give it away without regret.

We will catch up!

Middle of the Week Thoughts

“If you judge people, you have no time to love them.” 

                                                                                        ― Mother Teresa

Look around,  more often than not we are all
doing the best we can.
Let's be gentle with one another.

Summer Dreaming

July...

Last I remember, is sitting quietly evaluating the past few months and looking forward to a month of rest and recuperation (reading and writing) before returning to classroom preparation and routine.   I've said it here before, "tell God your plans and listen to his laughing".

It wasn't meant to be.

August...

I have one week left before heading back to school for meetings, in-service and work days.  The temps here, in Arkansas, are reaching triple digits...there is heat and humidity...nothing sounds more pleasing than a tall glass of iced tea and a good book.   In my dreams I am relaxing on the porch listening to waves gently sweep the shore.  Sigh!

How is your summer reading going?

Life is good...
Enjoy the week-end!

So Many Rambling Thoughts

For thus hath the Lord said unto me,

Go, set a watchman,

let him declare what he seeth.

Isaiah 21:6

Boxes were opened at midnight; sales began today. 

 No book, in my lifetime, has been awaited with greater excitement or skepticism as Go Set a Watchman.   I had a "what was I thinking" moment yesterday when I realized I wouldn't have my own copy on the day of it's release.   There was a reason behind my madness when I walked into Square Books in Oxford, Mississippi, last March, and ordered my book, which now seems silly and a little embarrassing.  Today, I'm having a few regrets, as I would love to have this book in my hot little hands tonight.   

Will Harper Lee's new work be as impactful as To Kill a Mockingbird?  Will Atticus keep his hero status, or will we discover he is human, fallible and an ordinary man of the time?  When we return to Maycomb, Alabama will we be able to put the events (though not a reflection on Alabama or isolated to the south) of the past year aside, and remember this book was penned decades ago.  Or will today's temperature alter our reading? 

When I ask "what is your all time favorite book?", so many reply To Kill a Mockingbird.  I wonder if this is because of Lee's near perfect prose, or is there that little piece of something in us that wants to be the brave one who stands up against the masses, popular beliefs and all odds, and just does the right thing.  Or, is it simply a good story told by a great storyteller.

 Yes, To Kill a Mockingbird is a favorite of mine.  To be honest I can't tell you how old I was the first time I read it, but I remember the sadness, the heaviness of heart, it brought.  I am sure I was quite young because it opened my eyes to the meaning of having  two entrances to the movie theater, why there were different schools and churches, and why there were two sides of the railroad track.  It was the first time I understood things were not just different, but wrong.  This may have been my "coming of age" book, the one which forced me to see my small world in a different light.  

I always wanted my dad to measure up to Atticus Finch.  Daddy was a fair man.  He believed a person should be judged by merit.  I never heard him talk down to anyone, and he was always willing to step in to help someone in need.  But, I also know he was a man who grew up in a certain time and fought his own battles with ideas he was taught.   He was a man who kept his opinions to himself and out of other's business.  I've read we will see a different side of Atticus in this book.  We may find him not to be so noble, but more vulnerable to the temperament and thoughts of the time.   Perhaps I'll find my dad and Atticus nearer alike than I thought, and I am okay with that. 

So here I sit awaiting the delivery of my copy of Go Set a Watchman, I think I might reread To Kill a Mockingbird while I wait.

Is it on your "to read" list?
Are you reading it now?

The Voice of Melancholy

When I started Living Life in 2010 I knew nothing about blogging (I still don't).  I wanted to write, to tell stories.  I wanted to write about living everyday and finding the blessings...
grace, in and among the ordinary...a good book, a simple meal, a smile.

Life is very much like writing.
Some days the words flow beautifully together creating something worth keeping.
The next there is struggle, emotion and nothing pretty comes from it.  Both are gifts.  One teaches gratitude, the other patience.  Right now I am frozen somewhere in-between.    

It has been a difficult couple of months.

It has been a long few years.  

I don't know where to begin; perhaps this is more about an end.
An end I saw coming.

I suppose that is exactly where I am at the present.  I am trying to move forward,

 but not ready to leave the past behind.  My heart is broken.

A month ago, I left the town where I grew up with two SUVs loaded.  My dad's life was sorted, divided and packed up before his funeral.  I will not say anything here, except the boxes have remained sealed.   I am not ready.  

I smile. 

 When asked, I reply I am doing okay...  

It is what most want to hear, grief is uncomfortable
when it belongs to someone else.
One day I will be okay.
I've been here before.

I've recently thought of closing Living Life, of just not returning.   I didn't know how to show back up on the page without exposing my heavy heart.  I then remembered why I began.  I wanted to write...I wanted to write about living everyday.  And, sometimes that living everyday gets messy.

 Loss and grief are thrown in front of all of us at sometime.  There is no escape.   We each cope differently, no one's grief is greater than another, and we move on, as best we can.  There is no right or wrong.  It is part of living this life.

The blessing...
 we heal...
time is the ointment....
memories the bandage.

Hugs to you all,

and thank you for reading!

To Every Season

To everything there is a season,

 and a time to every purpose under the heaven:
A time to be born, and a time to die...

                                                                 Ecclesiastes 3             

 

                                                                 

Ecclesiastes 3 has always been one of my favorite passages.  It is my reminder everything has a time; everything changes.  There will always be good times   and there will always be heartbreak.  The trick is to find peace and the grace in both.  I can't say I am always successful in either the searching
 or the finding.  

  This time last year, I was filled with excitement and anticipation of the arrival of my first grandson.  I was hurriedly trying to tie up all the loose ends at school and preparing to leave when the call came.  Our little Wyatt took his time, and after a bump in the road, he arrived beautiful and with all his fingers and toes.  He was and still is such a blessing.  He makes my heart smile.  It is hard to believe he is going to turn one in just over a month.

Last year we awaited a birth...this year we are awaiting a final goodbye.   My dad, as I have been told by hospice, is at the end of his life.  Though he was taken from me three years ago by dementia, I would be lying if I said I am ready.  My brain tells me it is his time; he has lived an amazing long life, filled with adventure, but my heart is aching.  He didn't always choose the easy road, but he accepted his lot and never looked back.  I always thought the song "I Did it My Way" was talking about Daddy.

I've shared my dad's favorite piece of advice here often.  Whenever there were worries and fears, he would say, "you've got to put one foot in front of the other, and walk the path put in front of you".  I'm trying.

Easter, I spent the morning crying with him and holding his hand.  It was the first time he knew I was his daughter in three years.  It is only now I realize this may be the first time I ever truly experienced Easter.  And maybe, this is where grace has delivered me.

I attended an event featuring Ann Lamont last weekend.  Though I've read so many of her books, I was on the edge of my seat listening.  I forgot there were over eight hundred people in attendance.  I felt as if she was speaking to just me, and I didn't want to miss anything.  I had already read so many of the stories she told, but I thirstily drank in every word.  Somewhere in the middle, maybe near the end, she used the words "stop and be present".   I was transported back to my dad's room Easter morning.

I was so afraid as I walked down the corridor to my dad's room.  I walked to the foot of his bed, and he said, "it's my daughter, the best gift"; tears ran down his sunken cheeks.  My fear left.  The next few hours, I sat holding a ninety eight year old hand scarred by both age and life.  A hand that had held mine both physically and metaphorically for so many years.  It was my time to hold his hand.  I didn't fuss over him.  I didn't straighten he bed linens.  I simply sat and held his hand...I was present.

"I do not understand the mystery of grace--
only that it meets us where we are
and does not leave us where it found us."
                     Anne Lamont