Posts Categorized: Joy

Springtime-gotta love it!

I’m on the mailing list for a nursery in Fort Worth. I get e-mails several times a week, especially at this time of year, telling me about special offers. Wednesday morning, I opened their new message and it said, “Thursday Only—-Ladybugs, regularly $9.99, now $6.98!” Oh, yes!

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Ho-san-nah, Yes! Ho-o-sa-a-a-a-nah!

As little girls, JoAnne and I found, in our Easter baskets, metal, crank-style music box figures. Hers was Peter Cottontail, and it played “Here Comes Peter Cottontail” when cranked. Mine was a purple egg, decorated with birds and flowers. When cranked, it played “London Bridge Is Falling Down.” Really. It did. I don’t know why. I don’t imagine the song has a history of being associated with Easter. I don’t know that it’s associated with eggs or flowers or birds. But that’s what it played. I’ll come back to that.

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I Don’t Know That I Feel All That Mad

indexI’ve mentioned before that I’m more of a fan of football than baseball or basketball. I grew up not even knowing what March Madness was. (I looked that up in Wikipedia to see when the term originated and discovered only that it came into use in the 20th century, not really the precise information that I was hoping for.)

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Fabulous Kidney-Friendly Hot Cocoa

The fascinating Oxymoron craze crops up every now and then. It must be at a low point right now, otherwise I’d be seeing more lists of them on Facebook, like “10 Oxymorons That You Can Use at Work,” or “The Six Funniest Oxymorons Ever.” That sort of thing. I don’t know what those “10 Work-Related” or “Six Funniest,” might be, but now that I’ve brought it up, surely somebody will start working on them.

Anyway, if you missed one of the oxymoron surges in the past few years, oxymorons are common phrases that use words that are the opposite of each other. Like “Civil War,” because wars are anything but civil. And “Jumbo Shrimp,” because “jumbo” means “really big,” and “shrimp,” as slang, means “small.” You get the idea.

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What Shall It Be Today? The Silver Hoops? The Silver Rings? The Silver Leaves? The *Other* Silver Hoops?

I used to accessorize more, back when I was a reader of Seventeen magazine. I had different kinds of necklaces and pins and bracelets, and I carefully chose my earrings each day. I had scarves and knew how to wear them, I guess.

These days, I admire other ladies’ necklaces and bracelets, and, really, does anybody go out without a cute/charming/toasty/colorful scarf these days? At least besides me?

I don’t remember when I stopped being accessorized. I guess it just became more trouble that I was willing to give. And thank goodness ladies aren’t expected to wear hats and gloves to church any more!

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One Way You Can Be Encouraging to Somebody

Maybe I’m a little late to noticing how pervasive this is, but at some point, we stopped reading information in paragraph form and went with lists. I understand it. We’re busy, there’s so much information out there, how can I get the most of it in the shortest amount of time? Let’s cut to the chase, tell me just what I need to know, don’t beat around the bush. 

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The Winter Gardener

I’ve mentioned before that I’m not a very good plant parent. All the plants at our house, indoor and out, have to be pretty sturdy and forgiving. It’s a good thing babies holler when they need

Oh, dear

Oh, dear

something. If plants came with a similar alert system, many more of them would survive around here. Some plants are stoic, hanging on, day after arid day, until one day, I’ll walk through the living room/dining room/bathroom, and discover them dry, brown, and dead. Brave little soldiers to the end.

Several outdoor plants in pots have had to come in periodically. Last week the geranium, the cyclamen, the Blue Daze, and some interesting ground cover that we got from David’s aunt had to come in because it was supposed to be 16°, and I think it was. They had to come in for a couple of days last month, too. But they don’t get enough light indoors to spend the whole winter, so they have to go back and forth.

After the weather warmed up again, I took them back out, and while I was out there (in what was actually very nice, warm sunshine), I took stock of everything else.

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Oh, No, Honey. Not THOSE Toys

We didn’t have Sunday School for kids last Sunday morning because the bikers were coming. Every year at church, we collect new toys for the Mission Waco Toy Store. Several churches participate, and on Thanksgiving weekend, local bikers (some are members of “Riders of the Son”) ride from church to church and pick up the toys. (They bring a trailer, too, for the toys, which is efficient, but keeps drivers around Waco from being able to see bikers guys and gals roaring around with Barbie dolls and Lego sets tucked under their arms.)

This year, an adult Sunday School class sponsored a time for parents and kids during the Sunday School hour to talk about Advent and giving and about the bikers’ ministry, and then the bikers came. They thundered into the parking lot and the kids got to meet the bikers and get close to those motorcycles (which are turned off at the time), and even sit on a bike. Then the bikers packed up all the toys we had donated, and blasted off to the next church.

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Look at This!!

Look what’s happening in my yard!

I know that this isn’t going to mean much to those of you who don’t live in Texas or other fall-delayed places, who, for example, may have had snow last week.

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Not *everything* I grow is a nusiance plant

You have to be pretty sturdy, plantwise, to make it at my house. That goes for both indoor and outdoor varieties. I know God made a wonderful world, and He loves it. When I get to Heaven, if I have to account for every living thing (plants, aquarium fish) that have died at my hands, I’m in big trouble.

I’m completely taken in by the beauty of nurseries that I visit. Despite my relatively poor track record with plants, I walk through those lush places and my heart says, “I can do this, too.” My brain struggles to be heard. “NO! No you can’t!”

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