next stop: sakeji

today's lesson

a rain puddle. a pink parasol. and a sisterly hug. perfect

art lesson leftovers

Sometimes the mess is just too nice to clean up :-)

connor's pickle

Connor happily showed me his garden again this evening. And as we inspected further, we discovered not just two . . . there are, in fact, five pickles in his garden. I, however, am particularly partial to the toes that also have been known to be found in Connor's garden :-)

what does your garden grow?

I met my neighbors the other day, thanks to my bold curiosity about her gardening prowess. This evening, as I crouched on the ground to capture this stunning sunflower [and I didn't add a thing to this photo, so far as color or other touch-ups go!], their young son poked his head up from the vine behind me and made a proud announcement [he had already granted me permission to take photos in his garden]. "Hey! You can take a picture of this one too . . . we have a pickle . . . Wait--we have two pickles!!!"
Wow--I wish my garden grew pickles . . . .
Young Connor kindly consoled me for my lack of a pickle-growing garden . . .

pecking order

Watching the hummingbirds this evening, we wondered out loud as to the fact that there were only females flitting about. Then we realized why: a solitary male approached, and was promptly shoved out of the way by a female . . . he did not persist in his efforts and nor, it seems, did any other of these northern hummers!

line of sight, take 2

So today's machine of choice was admittedly less productive--and decidedly more fun--than the last one featured! A post-service outing afforded me the occasion to have my first go at four-wheeling on the pastor's toy. Don't be fooled . . . preachers can wheel [and deal?] with the best of them :-)

line of sight

Yes, this is, in fact, a lawnmower. And yes, I did, in fact, take a photo of it today. Why? Well, it made perfect sense to me: for after spending the afternoon with this particular view, I realized that I was quite fond of it . . . and what is more natural than to want to capture the image of something you are fond of? Ok, so maybe it is the end result that make me so fond of this machine, but it doesn't need to know that, now does it?

project do-it-herself

This was the day's DIY home repair project. And while it was certainly no work of fine craftmanship, done as best as I could figure out how to do it, I was proud of my work all the same. I was also amused by the fact that, as I crouched on the floor with putty-covered hands and concentrated push-point-placings, two burly athletes sat watching me. One took his mother's phone call, arguing good-naturedly about when he would make it to their family vacation; the other concentrated on his cell phone, cursing his large hands when he accidentally texted an unspoken message to an unintended recipient. And I contentedly carried out my solitary project to its satisfactory completion.

the one

No doubt you wonder why I would be so interested in this, apparently mundane, sort of scene. The reason is a simple one--silly, even: it reminds me of a painting I clipped out of a magazine back in high school. It was an impressionist scene, of a girl lost in her delight, flying high in a swing such as this one, suspended over a forest spring. The depiction captivated me at the time so that I longed to be transported into the middle of it. But I have no idea who painted it, and have not seen it since high school, so who knows what that particular piece of art was, or if it would have the same impact on my now . . . in my cynical old age ;-)

still [not] the one

so this is yet another "side" photo: a glimpse. a gasp. an i-must-capture-that moment. another photo i took when i was out intending to take the photo that i have not yet posted . . . oh, the suspense :-)

the photo that almost wasn't

this was not the photo i intended to take this morning. it was another sight that inspired me to grab my camera and dash out while i still had good morning light. and i did take a shot of the sight that had so inspired me . . . and then i saw this. and it was simply too lovely to pass up. so here you have it. i'll post the intended photo later ;-)

fly away home

This morning's sun glinted off the dew drops, catching my eye and making me kneel down to see what this was lying in my path in the cemetery. And then I was delighted--with its beauty, clearly, but also with the fond childhood memories that it brought to mind . . .
My girlfriends and I at boarding school in Zambia used to rescue dragonflies from the boys, as they were wont to torture the creatures with dismemberings and the like. We would do as best as our 6-year-old brains could conceive of to do in order to nurse them back to health, imagining them happily flitting off into a future of freedom and long-lived prosperity. Perhaps this particular wing belonged to one of those rescued creatures, carrying it across many oceans, years, and adventures, until it finally lay to rest in a little graveyard in the heart of the Southland . . . :-)

diner divinations

We celebrated my uncle's wedding this past weekend at a deli near their home and, while there, I had an odd encounter:
As we walked from our table to the salad bar a man approached me and asked if he knew me from somewhere. Before you suspect stereotypical "approaches," I should reassure you that this particular man was an smartly dressed elderly gentleman. He was clearly trying to rack his brain for the source of the acquaintance as he looked up at me with a kind expression of inquiry. I couldn't help but wonder at his height, since my barely 5'6'' frame seemed to tower over him at the time.
At any rate, after a few minutes of conversation as to possible acquaintance sources, we figured out that he had been one of the 140-odd residents at the facility where I was a social worker last year. He was not one of the ones I had regular interactions with--if we spoke at all, it was merely a passing greeting.
So I was surprised when he looked at me more reflectively and commented, "You love the Lord, don't you? I can tell."
Frankly, I was more touched by this comment that I would have expected, and I told him as much.
Then he began a strange sort of oracle. Or maybe it was an exhortation . . . I'm not quite sure. What he said was:
"You don't feel like you can make a difference in the world. Not as much as you want to. But you can. You do. And you will. Just wait, and see what the rest of this year will bring."
Then he bid me farewell. I stood there and tried to hold back my tears. In this "transitional" period of life, I was hungry for such affirmation of my purpose. And I was, and am, intrigued at the meaning of such an odd interaction, at what the future might hold . . .

normal?

I wipe a bulldog’s butt every night. Strange? Surely. But the oddest part of it is probably the fact that it has become a perfectly natural part of my evening ritual, not fazing me in the slightest. As a matter of fact, I dare say I’ve gotten pretty good at it, developing a speedy swipe-and-wipe routine that doesn’t even seem to faze the dog much, either. Funny the things that can become a “normal” part of one’s day . . .

reach for the light

Since first passing these wild blooms in the cemetery, I have found myself returning daily to catch a glimpse of them. I find them inspiring, in a bittersweet sort of manner, as the reach for the rays that so briefly touch them each day from over the hilltop that shadows them. So I have taken up an odd little ritual of greeting them each morning with little words of encouragement in the efforts to “reach for the light.” Who knows, maybe it helps :-)

i still believe . . .

Rather than bemoan the lack of hours in the day, I decided today to simply make the time to do what I awoke inspired to do: it occurred to me that it would be great fun would be to play “herb fairy.” So I plucked several bundles of varieties like this Italian Basil and made my rounds . . . sometimes "practical" errands just have to wait :-)

the day's delight

One of the perks of my present home and pet-sitting stint has been the luxury of tending to[and eating out of!] a lovely garden. So today I allowed myself the joy of turning a few of these gems into a wildflower bouquet that became a spontaneous gift for a friend.

a dead bolt & a door jam

Is a dead bolt an odd thing to photograph? Maybe so, but it seemed appropriate for me, as I am particularly proud of this one. Every time I figure out how to do something new, it seems fitting to document it, if the task is successfully accomplished, that is . . . in this case, I have spent yesterday and today purchasing and installing new dead bolts, so I am feeling that thrill of handy-woman accomplishment. Mind you, one is still in progress, as I found out I had drilled the holes slightly off. Back to that drill . . .

"Dear Author . . ."

As I had only a transcribed version before, I requested a photocopy of the original from the archives . . . so have just received this cheery visual aid for my previous post about the young doctor-to-be and her author inspiration :-)