A Very Nearly Wordless Wednesday

“The Shadow People”

Old lame Bridget doesn’t hear
Fairy music in the grass
When the gloaming’s on the mere
And the shadow people pass:
Never hears their slow grey feet
Coming from the village street
Just beyond the parson’s wall,
Where the clover globes are sweet
And the mushroom’s parasol
Opens in the moonlit rain.
Every night I hear them call
From their long and merry train.
Old lame Bridget says to me,
“It is just your fancy, child.”
She cannot believe I see
Laughing faces in the wild,
Hands that twinkle in the sedge
Bowing at the water’s edge
Where the finny minnows quiver,
Shaping on a blue wave’s ledge
Bubble foam to sail the river.
And the sunny hands to me
Beckon ever, beckon ever.
Oh! I would be wild and free,
And with the shadow people be.

by Francis Ledwidge

What is it?

It’s Clara’s own springtime perfume concoction.

God’s Will

I know, I know where violets blow
Upon a sweet hillside,
And very bashfully they grow
And in the grasses hide—
It is the fairest field, I trow,
In the whole world wide.

One spring I saw two lassies go,
Brown cheek and laughing eye;
They swung their aprons to and fro,
They filled them very high
With violets—then whispered low
So strange, I wondered why.

I know where violet tendrils creep
And crumbled tombstones lie,
The green churchyard is silence-deep;
The village folk go by,
And lassies laugh and women weep,
And God knows why.

Robert Louis Munger

“Timidity keeps me safe and sad in a narrow room.”
Mason Cooley

“Let a fool hold his tongue and he will pass for a sage.”
Publius Syrus (42 B.C.), Maxim 914

February 2, 1939 – January 29, 2007

I wanted to let everyone know that my mother passed from this world to be with her Father in heaven yesterday morning. I thank all of you who wrote to say you were praying for her and for those who didn’t write, but were praying anyway. Please pray for my family as we will be taking what looks to be a rather long drive in bad weather on Thursday. I am going to be taking a little break from blogging over the next week or two as the girls and I will be spending that time with my father. Please keep him in your prayers as he was my mother’s sole caretaker and his life completely revolved around tending to her needs. He is lost without her there to focus his attentions on. I will be back, dear friends. God bless you all.

A little while, and ye shall not see me: and again, a little while, and ye shall see me, because I go to the Father.
John 16:16

This is what a bad dog does when you think that he is too short to jump up on a very tall bed.

I signed up for a “Secret Sister” through Training Hearts and got my first care package in the mail Saturday. At first, I thought the package must be for the entire month of February, but now I am not sure since everything was wrapped up in one box. When I opened the package that came in the mail, I found a sweet note card in an envelope and a package wrapped in wrapping paper. I unwrapped the package to find this lovely box:

My girls were quite envious, but I immediately found the perfect purpose for such a box as this. I put all my note cards, envelopes, and stamps in it. This wasn’t exactly a stroke of genius since my secret sister had already put a nice package of note cards in the box. I’m not going to show them here in case I absent-mindedly send one to the secret sister assigned to me. Better safe than sorry.

Along with the note cards, though, were candles in my favorite scents.

The box smelled heavenly when I opened it up. The candles are scented “Cinnamon Stick”, “Farmhouse Apple”, and “Mom’s Apple Pie”. I can’t decide which one to burn first. I think it will be “Mom’s Apple Pie”. Thank you so much, secret sister of mine. I feel very blessed to have such a thoughtful friend out there praying for me.

Part Two: Nature
XXV

THE MUSHROOM is the elf of plants,
At evening it is not;
At morning in a truffled hut
It stops upon a spot
As if it tarried always;
And yet its whole career
Is shorter than a snake’s delay,
And fleeter than a tare.
‘T is vegetation’s juggler,
The germ of alibi;
Doth like a bubble antedate,
And like a bubble hie.
I feel as if the grass were pleased
To have it intermit;
The surreptitious scion
Of summer’s circumspect.
Had nature any outcast face,
Could she a son contemn,
Had nature an Iscariot,
That mushroom,—it is him.

Emily Dickinson

Apparently, the “wild things” grow in my yard. I found this growing in my yard last summer. A two-headed little beasty. Is there anyone out there who can tell me what type of fungal creature this is?

I had to think about this week’s theme, “Technology”. We have a lot of gadgets around here that I could have taken pictures of, but I tend to dislike taking photos of gadgetry. I also kept trying to consider carefully what really brings joy to our home. The piece of technology that brings me the most joy would have to be our Yamaha DGX500 digital keyboard. I don’t know how to play any musical instrument or even how to read music, but my girls have been taking lessons for years. This makes me very happy because they will have the gift of music to share with others throughout their lives. Moments like this make my day.

(Just between the two of us, though, the kitchen appliances and the washer and dryer all weighed heavily in my considerations.)