Palm Sunday

Children waving palms, drums beating, handbells ringing, choir singing...all processing in for this morning's worship service to reenact and remind that Jesus' triumphal entry into Jerusalem is the beginning for our holy week.  Sean had a drum.  Skye joined the children and sang "Could it be?... Isn't he?"  Kristen and I rang handbells.  I had my regular place in the choir between bell presentations.    My heart filled with gratitude for the significance of the day as the beginning of Holy Week, for my family's participation.  Our children and grandchildren who live in this area were all present and part of the experience.

Tea Time

Maddie celebrates her fourth birthday with a tea party for a few friends.  "Tea for two, and two for tea.  Me for you, and you for me....can't you see happy we will be?"  Be sure to wear something fancy!

                                                                       

Crazy Quilt Art

In our area of Texas, school children of all ages enter art projects in a Rodeo art competition in the weeks leading up to the rodeo in Houston.  Skye won a ribbon for her entry, titled Crazy Quilt.  I have always loved crazy quilts, and have a few pillow covers and one quilt made by my grandmother in this fashion.  I like the stories told by the various scraps of fancy fabrics.  I like remembering my grandmother's hands when I trace my fingers over the feather stitching and briar stitches outlining the quilt patches.  One day soon, I will show Skye the art fashioned by her great great grandmother.

Thank You Note

Our granddaughter, Skye, is a 7 year old Daisy Girl Scout so this year she had her first experience selling cookies!  At this age, marketing is limited to friends and family so no door to door sales.  Family, of course, did not let her down.  The cookies are good, and we have plenty to share.  But the best part of this venture is the thank you note she included when she delivered the cookies.  It reminds me that no gift is properly acknowledged without a handwritten note.  Our gift to her in purchasing her goods is excelled by her gift to us in appreciation.  I think I need to write a thank you note!

When the Birds Go North Again

I am sorting through some very old files of poetry and kept stuff.  It is slow work because I keep stopping to read this or think about that.  But today is the first day of Lent, an appropriate season for reflection.  I feel winter in my bones this morning. It has been a heart winter as well.  When I picked up the page with this piece of poetry, I felt as if the woman who wrote it (who died the year I was born) was speaking to me.  I know that God was.

"Oh, every year hath its winter,
And every year hath its rain--
But a day is always coming
When the birds go north again.

"When new leaves swell in the forest,
And grass springs green on the plain,
And alders' veins turn crimson--
And the birds go north again.

"Oh, every heart hath its sorrow,
And every heart hath its pain--
But a day is always coming
When the birds go north again.

" 'Tis the sweetest thing to remember,
If courage be on the wane,
when the cold, dark days are over--
Why, the birds go north again."

      ~Ella Higginson, a poet from the Northwest

A year ago when I began this blog, I wanted to learn, but actually knew nothing about the "how".  I am still learning, and now have two blogs!  At one time I thought I would merge the two into one.  Gradually I began to see they really were different kinds of containers, so I have maintained them both.  In these blog posts, I have collected family stories, my grandmothering pleasures, and other memoir and nesting style writing.  My other blog began in a more contemplative style, and features some of both my husband's and my photography, particularly in our garden.  But the words I post there today could go in either blog.  If you are curious, you can see this at http://www.stonesandfeathers.wordpress.com/

By the Book

"It is a good rule...to keep the clean sea breeze of the centuries blowing through our minds, and this can be done only by reading old books."   ~ C.S. Lewis

If you asked me how I spent my summers when I was growing up, I would not tell you "at the beach" or any typical vacation. The only times I remember our family going out of town for a week were a few summers when we went to stay near a clinic that offered hot mineral baths which my father took to ease his arthritis pain.  Those days we spent in a tiny motel with a kitchenette where we prepared our meals, certainly not remarkable by today's standards of getaways.

My main source of adventure and recreation for those hot Texas summer months was a small, plain stone building in a park near the center of our small town.  This was the Jacksonville Public Library.  I was allowed to go often to check out books.  I remember dark wood floors and the stacks of books lined up waiting for me to slide them from their shelves to pick my maximum allowed volumes to take home.  Today, my home is full of books, but I still go to the library, often taking my granddaughter along.  When I open a brand new book, I love the smell and the feel of the fresh pages.  But there is story in holding and reading a book others have held and read.  The Lewis quote reminds me beyond that, the new and the old are more than  age of the paper and binding.  I try to balance my reading by including long loved classics as well as the newly written must reads.