I had a very busy day yesterday, so I didn’t have much time to prepare a blogpost. But here is some Walt Whitman–his birthday is coming up on the 31st, so prepare yourselves…
Daughter #2 reminds me that baby Wes has been practicing his barbaric yawp recently, discovering his voice.
She says, “Oh, are you contributing a verse?”
Indeed.
I had a very busy day yesterday with three–count ’em–events to attend. It was crazy, but I survived.
The first was a very chichi luncheon in Tower Grove Park to which I was invited by a dear friend. I had a lovely time and caught up with another old friend and talked to some people with whom I had weird connections.
The featured speaker was a “leading voice in ecological landscape design, pioneering a plant-systems approach that anticipates a changing future”–zut alors! It was actually quite interesting.
Then I went to the opening reception of an art and photography show at the Kirkwood Performing Arts Center where my co-editor of the Kirkwood Historical Review’s work was featured. I was so impressed with Ron’s photos! He has traveled all over the world, but his pictures are not, here’s the Eiffel Tower. They’re like, here’s a wall that looks like a Mondrian painting or here’s a crack in the ceiling that looks like Winston Churchill. Who knew 90-year old Ron was an artiste!
Finally, I went to the “Poetry Corner” at the Schaeffer House at my church to, yes, read poetry and discuss. I enjoyed it, but the chairs were very uncomfortable and it had been a long day, so I went home at the earliest opportunity. As daughter #1 says, I know how to break up a party.
Well, it’s good to get outside your comfort zone once in awhile. Read some poetry!
It’s Friday again–can you believe it? I have a busy day ahead of me with multiple things to do. The weekend will be pretty busy as well. Unfortunately it is supposed to rain, but we had a lovely, cool week, so I can’t really complain.
Don’t forget that Sunday is Mother’s Day! If you are lucky enough to still have a mother, give her a call or take her out to lunch after church. If you don’t, think about your mother and all that you owe her. Even if she wasn’t a paragon of maternal virtue, she gave you life. And remember all those women–sisters, wives, aunts, old ladies who sit in your pew and wonder where you are when you’re not there–who have helped and nurtured and supported you through the years.
In the meantime here are some good things to read…
This is a helpful essay about raising children to be “reality respecters”: “If we believe God made the world and our children, we’ll teach them that the only way to be in touch with reality is to look at the world the way God looks at it. As a believing parent, I have a duty to teach my children to question whether their feelings fit the way things are.”
This is interesting: At the recent World Architecture Festival—an annual international gathering of leading figures where prestigious prizes are awarded—the biggest prize of all was awarded to a church. But what a hideous structure! “It looks like a prison chapel designed by Screwtape to cause all who enter in to abandon hope. I do believe it would make Soviet atheist architects proud. Most of all, here is what a church should look like if Christ never rose from the dead.” It’s almost as ugly as this.
And here’s a poem by John Newton, “Saturday Evening”.
Safely through another week,
God has brought us on our way;
Let us now a blessing seek,
On th’ approaching Sabbath-day:
Day of all the week the best,
Emblem of eternal rest.
It’s Friday again! The prairie fam will arrive later today. Tomorrow daughters #1 and 2 are throwing me a birthday luncheon for my lady friends and granddaughters (plus Wes). They threw me a party when I turned 60–hard to believe that was 10 years ago!
Anyway, it will be a fun and busy weekend.
Here’s a birthday poem by Robert Service written on 16th January, 1949–“Seventy-and-five!”:
I thank whatever gods may be
For all the happiness that’s mine;
That I am festive, fit and free
To savour women, wit and wine;
That I may game of golf enjoy,
And have a formidable drive:
In short, that I’m a gay old boy
Though I be
Seventy-and-five.My daughter thinks. because I’m old
(I’m not a crock, when all is said),
I mustn’t let my feet get cold,
And should wear woollen socks in bed;
A worsted night-cap too, forsooth!
To humour her I won’t contrive:
A man is in his second youth
When he is
Seventy-and-five.At four-score years old age begins,
And not till then, I warn my wife;
At eighty I’ll recant my sins,
And live a staid and sober life.
But meantime let me whoop it up,
And tell the world that I’m alive:
Fill to the brim the bubbly cup –
Here’s health to
Seventy-and-five!
As a reformed Presbyterian, I have recanted my sins and I’ll admit I do live a rather staid and sober life, but I still know how to whoop it up. And I plan to this weekend!
And Mr. Smith was a naughty boy and thought it was very funny…
(BTW, the beautiful Iris is from Don’s garden–mine are still buds!)
*William Shakespeare
Yesterday we almost broke a record high temperature! And they say we are in for severe weather later today–I hope not, but it’s par for the course with the springtime temperature swings.
Things are looking rather lush.
There are buds on the peonies!
And the grass…zut alors!
It won’t last, but I’m enjoying it now!
Daughter #2 reminded me that the lilacs are blooming and, of course, that reminded us of this:
Read the whole poem here. One should read this poem at least once a year!
Breath in the spring air, remember Lincoln, read a poem, praise God from whom all blessings flow!
Today is daughter #2’s birthday! We will celebrate on Friday when the whole prairie gang comes into town for my birthday–the first time since before Wes was born! In the meantime, happy birthday, precious Susiebelle!
Yesterday I delivered a “meal train” dinner to a fellow parishioner who was recovering from a shoulder replacement. She is an almost 90-year old lady–a tiny woman originally from Texas who has a concealed carry license and who really reminded me of another little lady from Texas I used to know. She talked my ear off for an hour! We had a great time. Another lesson learned by this poor introvert.
Here’s a poem for daughter #2 by Mary Oliver, The Black Walnut Tree:
My mother and I debate:
we could sell
the black walnut tree
to the lumberman,
and pay off the mortgage.
Likely some storm anyway
will churn down its dark boughs,
smashing the house. We talk
slowly, two women trying
in a difficult time to be wise.
Roots in the cellar drains,
I say, and she replies
that the leaves are getting heavier
every year, and the fruit
harder to gather away.
But something brighter than money
moves in our blood–an edge
sharp and quick as a trowel
that wants us to dig and sow.
So we talk, but we don’t do
anything. That night I dream
of my fathers out of Bohemia
filling the blue fields
of fresh and generous Ohio
with leaves and vines and orchards.
What my mother and I both know
is that we’d crawl with shame
in the emptiness we’d made
in our own and our fathers’ backyard.
So the black walnut tree
swings through another year
of sun and leaping winds,
of leaves and bounding fruit,
and, month after month, the whip-
crack of the mortgage.
And for those of us old enough to remember:
Today we toast DN on his birthday!
We have known him for quite a few years now and we love him a lot. I won the lottery with both my daughter- and son-in-law and I am eternally grateful. We won’t be able to celebrate together for a couple of weeks, but he knows I will be thinking of him today.
Here’s a poem for him by Jorge Luis Borges:
The weather has been nice so I have continued to move plants out to the Florida Room. It is about ready to open for the season!
They look pretty scraggly in this photo but they’ll perk up! You can see the Forsythia blooming beyond the windows.
As usual, after the twins have been here last weekend, I found lots of little do-dads all over the house…
…which really amuses me. (That’s a plane propellor in the foreground.)
In case you forgot like I did, yesterday was Steve McQueen’s birthday. Of course, I will watch one of his movies tonight.
How about you?
This article reminds us that God sometimes leads his people into difficult places—not to harm them, but to deepen their faith.
And here’s a Lenten poem by Richard Wilbur, “Peter”:
The sun was out yesterday–so big win! I went to Hobby Lobby and bought several craft kits to do with the twins when they spend the night tonight. We will probably watch a movie–maybe How the West Was Won (1962) if they haven’t seen it yet.
This is one of the best opening credit sequences of all time!
This is a about the other book that shaped America (next to the Bible). If you haven’t read it recently, I suggest you do. It is wonderful.
“This hill, though high, I covet to ascend;
The difficulty will not me offend.
For I perceive the way to life lies here.
Come, pluck up, heart; let’s neither faint nor fear.
Better, though difficult, the right way to go,
Than wrong, though easy, where the end is woe.”
Today is going to be a very busy, stressful day, as is tomorrow. But what ho, it is the bell and it tolleth for me. Have a good one–watch an old movie, read an old book, let’s neither faint nor fear.
How was your weekend? Mine was springlike until it was not. The magnolia trees are in full bloom and everyone is worried that the cold snap will kill/damage everything. But this literally happens every year. At least it didn’t snow as initially predicted! (But we did have a tornado watch!)
Daughter #1 came over on Friday afternoon and set up my new printer for me. I am good to go after months of frustration with my old printer. We celebrated with wine time and Chik-fil-a for dinner.
Our DAR meeting on Saturday was skillfully run, as usual, by daughter #1. We had a wonderful lecture by our friend Esley Hamilton about all the architectural jewels of St. Louis that were torn down before 1904.
For instance, this house–the “Cracker Castle”–built in 1868 for Jonathan Pierce who produced hardtack during the Civil War, was heavily damaged by a tornado in 1896 and as a result was demolished soon afterwards. It is sad that so little actually remains from the nineteenth century (although the above monstrosity was no great loss).
Saturday night I watched The Quiet Man (1952) in honor of St. Patrick’s Day.
Mr. Smith harumphed a bit at the Irish accents, but he still thought it was pretty great.
Sunday I went to church and heard a fine sermon on Joshua 8:1-35–I have really enjoyed Joshua. It seems very timely. Our final hymn was…
…and I cried…and my mascara ran.
Is this what William Cowper meant when he wrote:
Sometimes a light surprises
The Christian while he sings;
It is the Lord, who rises
With healing in His wings:
When comforts are declining,
He grants the soul again
A season of clear shining,
to cheer it after rain.
I went to the Westminster Catechism class afterwards and it was terrific. We went through #22-38, led by a ruling elder (who is also an attorney). It all makes so much sense! I think I finally understand what effectual calling is!
Effectual calling is the work of God’s Spirit, whereby convincing us of our sin and misery, enlightening our minds in the knowledge of Christ, and renewing our wills, he doth persuade and enable us to embrace Jesus Christ, freely offered to us in the gospel.
This morning I go in for my annual bone density exam, kicking off two weeks of doctor visits and tests. “Now may the God of peace himself sanctify you completely, and may your whole spirit and soul and body be kept blameless at the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ. 24 He who calls you is faithful; he will surely do it. 25 Brothers, pray for us.” (I Thess. 5:23-25)
dual personalities 