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The Bible Tells Me

I’m not the Bible scholar I should be. I know some verses; not as many as I ought. Still, I find most of my experiences can be framed or underscored, explained or illuminated, by Scripture. Or maybe a hymn or a worship song, a devotional or a testimony. Frequently, I have those “Oh, yeah” moments when I see God clearly in an event. Or realized that I should have seen Him.

These are the moments of “The Bible tells me.”

These essays reflect that. Do know that I can proof-text as well as anyone. I have a concordance, and I know how to use it. Well, truthfully, I do all of that online now, where I can quickly find a passage, see it in many versions, and choose the one I like best. I try not to be narrow, but instead broad, as I apply Bible words to my experiences. I know that your interpretations and understanding may be different than mine. But I also know that our God is big enough for all of us.

I have a friend who, in her prayer time, likes to tell jokes to God. “I know He knows the punch line,” she says. “But I tell them anyway. He likes it when I laugh.”

He likes it when I laugh. I’m going to hang on to that. It’s Biblical. The Bible tells me.

Our mouths were filled with laughter then,
and our tongues with shouts of joy.
Then they said among the nations,
“The Lord has done great things for them.”
The Lord had done great things for us;
we were joyful.

Psalm 126: 2,3 (HCSB)

Breath of Heaven

| Faithfulness, Gentleness, Goodness, Joy, Kindness, Love, Patience, Peace

Two or three times a year, my church publishes a devotional book, for Advent, for Lent/Easter, for support for teams of church members on mission trips, and other occasions. Church members are asked to write devotionals for the booklets, and sometimes I’m asked to write one. This year, for Advent, our assignment was to choose a favorite Christmas carol and a scripture passage, and to write a devotional based on our experience with those things. This is the one I wrote, inspired by the song Breath of Heaven. The song’s title has the link to  Amy Grant’s singing the song.

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I trust you to save me, Lord God, and I won’t be afraid. My power and my strength come from you, and you have saved me. Isaiah 12:2 (Contemporary English Version)

Breath of Heaven

We have a niece who had a baby about a year and a half ago. While her husband rushed into the hospital’s emergency room to get a wheelchair for her, she gave birth to their third child, a baby boy, in the front seat of their vehicle. Now there’s a birth story.

The birth story Mary has to tell is pretty impressive, too. Well, more impressive, I guess. After all, it is Jesus.

There’s not much detail about Mary, herself, in the Bible. If you go online, there’s lots of information about her, but it’s all pretty much speculation.

I do wonder, though, if Jesus ever said to her, “Please tell me about the night I was born.” It’s not a matter of his not knowing all the facts, but I like to think that he would appreciate hearing her tell the story.

(He listens and responds. As she narrates the tale, she’s also pondering about her own feelings and struggles.)

 

“Oh, Mother! An angel? Were you surprised? Were you scared?”

         Holy father you have come
         And chosen me now to carry your son

“And Aunt Elizabeth, too? Cousin John? Really?”

         Must I walk this path alone?
         Be with me now

“I remember hearing about that census. All the way to Bethlehem. Quite a trip.”

         Lighten my darkness
         Pour over me your holiness

“No place to stay? Then what happened?

         Do you wonder as you watch my face
         If a wiser one should have had my place

“Shepherds came all the way into town? That was a hike!”

         Help me be strong
         Help me be
         Help me

“What was the hardest part for you, Mother?”

         Breath of heaven
         Lighten my darkness
         Pour over me your holiness
         For you are holy
         Breath of heaven

“You are the bravest woman I know, Mother. I am grateful that you were willing to do what you were asked to do.”

 

 

Reflection
You may have heard two people tell the “same” story, but from really different points of view. This holiday season, think about spending time with friends and relatives that you think you know pretty well. Listen to their stories and appreciate how the details may be different from the way you might remember those occasions.

 

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(We writers are asked to include some bio information. This is what I wrote: My sister was born the October that I was 4 1/2 years old. My mother says that, that December, I would drape small baby blankets over my head and shoulders and wander around the house, stopping at each room, and shaking my head and muttering “No room. No room. No room.” Then, I would erect my toy ironing board, drape IT with blankets, and sit under it, holding a doll. Apparently I would do that for hours, leaving her free to take care of the new baby in the house.

 

The Falling Leaves

| Patience, Peace

Living in Central Texas means, usually, pretty mild winters, which seems like our prize after enduring the blisteringly hot summers. There will be a freeze or two, or more, and maybe even a little bit of snow. Very little. I have one wool coat, which I may wear once or twice during the winter. Or maybe it will spend the entire winter season, untouched, in the hall closet. I don’t own one other woolen article of clothing.

I guess folks get used to their own area’s weather, and do the appropriate winterizing of cars and homes and yards, or, in our place, not doing anything much different.

I did pull up some tender plants that froze a couple of weeks ago, but most things are still green and alive. My primary fall-and-on-to-winter outdoor activity is raking. I like to rake. I’ve mentioned before that the yard crew that comes each week in the spring and summer (and a little bit into the fall), find it odd that I prefer to rake up the fallen leaves instead of having them mow the leaves into tiny, mulchable pieces. I think it’s good for me to do, and it’s part of the sort of fall weather we have.

I went to Fort Worth mid-week to see Peter in his church’s Christmas pageant. The weather’s been a little nippy, but, when I got back to Waco Thursday afternoon, the weather was perfect for raking. I’d already raked up a whole bunch of leaves, and sent them off in the every-other-week yard waste recycle truck. As soon as last week’s truck left, I refilled those bins with leaves for this coming week. There’s a nice pile of leaves that will hold me though the winter all the way to fall, as I add peels and cores and lettuce that’s spent too much time in the fridge into the compost bins. There are still some leaf bags and piles that will go into the green bins for several more weeks. But, there were still some unraked places in the front yard.

When I pulled into the garage Thursday, I went right inside, put on my long overalls and a shirt and sweatshirt, and went out to rake the rest of the leaves. There’s still a small pile of them, waiting to get recycled, but I think I’m pretty much done for this year. I’m counting on the cold north wind to take care of the remaining few, because, it may not freeze hard this winter, but there will be wind.

There’s always stuff do to in the yard, and on sunny days, I go out and pull some weeds and clean up and make sure plants that seem dry get some water. And make sure those acorns aren’t trying to sprout.

 

Meanwhile, friends, wait patiently for the Master’s Arrival. You see farmers do this all the time, waiting for their valuable crops to mature, patiently letting the rain do its slow but sure work.

Be patient like that.

James 5:7 (The Message Translation)

 

There are all kinds of ways that I need to be patient. I’m trying to work on them. And!! We have some pecans. We haven’t had any good pecans in a few years. I’ve picked up a few almost every time I’ve been out working in the yard, or just walking around. There aren’t lots and lots, and maybe not even enough for a whole pie, but I think there are enough for a few pecan tarts for Christmas!

 

 

 

Books

| Self-Control

My sister writes in books. She underlines words and paragraphs, to help her remember important points and to be able to locate significant passages. When she was visiting a few months ago, she picked up a book of mine and started reading it. She didn’t have time to finish it, and I said she certainly could take it home with her. And she said, no, it was the sort of book that she would want to underline and write in, and she would just get a copy of her own.

Some folks write in their books. I’m probably at a disadvantage because I don’t. When I think about a passage in a book that I’d like to re-read, or think about more significantly, I’m at a loss, because I’d end up having to read most of the book all over again, because I didn’t highlight passages that were important.

But I guess I’m reluctant to write in books because I was always told to take good care of books and handle them well and, really, don’t write in them! Of course, that applies, mostly, to library books and school textbooks and books one might be reading while at Barnes & Noble.

At my library, there are some display shelves, near the entrance, where librarians put a variety of books and videos that support a particular theme, like football season, or summer fun, or Christmas. They may be informational, entertaining, short, loooong, and so on. I usually stop and scan the choices, and, last week, I got one to check out.

This looked interesting. It seemed like an easy read. I enjoy cozy mysteries, and it’s all holiday-centered, and there would probably be some recipes. I checked it out.

The first thing I looked for was recipes, and, just as I thought, there were several pages at the back of the book dedicated to cookie recipes.

Here’s what I found there:

Some previous library patron has written in this library book! I don’t know if the reader actually made these cookies and discovered that the oven temperature was too low, and the cookies didn’t bake right. And, even I might have wondered about the temperature. What’s printed in the book is a little low for cookies. Maybe the reader used the recipe and discovered, after the first cookie sheet came out, that that temperature was too low. Three-fifty is more the norm for cookies.

I must admit, though, that I would probably have put in a small post-it note with the better information, if I thought I should give some advice.

 

A page or two over, I found this. That seems pretty cheeky, to completely change an ingredient!

 

But, when I turned to the page number written there, I discovered that one of the bakers in the book’s cookie baking competition did indeed use virgin coconut oil as a scheme to have a prize winning cookie!

 

 

Anyway, after checking the recipes, I went back to the beginning to read the book. By the third page in, here’s what I saw:

This reader was editing the grammar of this book. And, really, I rather agreed with the changes. I read a few more pages and didn’t find any more “corrections,” so I don’t know if the reader didn’t find any more “problems,” or, maybe they found so many more that they just gave up. I read a few more pages myself and gave up, too. It just didn’t seem very well written, and I didn’t particularly care about the characters. It’s going back to the library.

 

 

 

 

Meanwhile, I’ve started reading The Bastard Brigade, the story of the men tasked with stopping the Nazis from developing the technology for an atomic bomb. Cleverly, the writer (Sam Kean) began with the story of Moe Berg, who, in between seasons as a professional baseball player, also graduated from Princeton and passed the bar in New York. Then, the writer moves on to a lot of science stuff, involving Marie Curie and her daughter Irene Curie and her husband, who blasted isotopes of elements and discovered all sorts of stuff, which I don’t really have a background to completely grasp. To help me out, there are diagrams, which I also do not completely grasp. But, it’s interesting and I’m hoping that we’ll soon be moving away from protons and neutrons (et. al.) and back to people.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Over the River and Through the Rain

| Patience

Last week, we had Thanksgiving Dinner with the Fort Worth family. David drove back to Waco on Thursday evening, but I planned to visit a friend on my way home Friday morning, so spent Thursday night in Fort Worth. My friend used to live in Waco, but now lives in an RV/Trailer Park about 50 or so miles away, between Waco and Fort Worth. I’d been to visit a few months ago, and thought that I could get in another visit this trip, as I didn’t have any time constraints, this day-after-Thanksgiving Friday.

Thursday evening, I was checking with Kevin about the maps app on my phone. I’d misplaced the address, but she’d sent the information to me (address, gate code, and lot number), and I was aiming to get everything in place for a smooth trip in the morning. Kevin said, use the “copy” and “paste” feature to move the address from e-mail and into the maps app, which I did, and saw with delight that there, on her contact page, there was the address (let’s call it “123 Winnebago Lane”). Perfect!

Friday morning, after a trip to Trader Joe’s, and another trip back to Kevin’s because I’d had a text from him that said I’d left my iPad there, I set out, tapping the address and leaving town. I was surprised to see that the place was only 22 miles away, which really wasn’t too surprising, as, last time, I’d driven quite a while from Waco to her, and assumed that it was sensible to think that the distance from Fort Worth would, of course, be shorter.

Hah.

As I left Fort Worth, the weather changed from cloudy to misty and drizzly, and I was driving along parts of highways that I’d not been on before. I drove and drove and drove. Finally I reached “123 Winnebago Lane.” I saw a gate, but it didn’t look like the gate I’d been through before. I thought that maybe this was the back door of the place. I pulled up to the number pad, punched in the number I had, and nothing happened. I tried again. I scrolled down the list of names and didn’t see my friend’s. Then, another car pulled up behind me, and that driver apparently had a remote, because the gate opened, so I drove on through. I drove down a couple of roadways and saw only large houses in big yards, but no trailers or RV’s. This just didn’t seem right, so I tried to drive out, but the place was quite spread out and I was a little bit lost. Fortunately, a FedEx truck had made a delivery and I followed it out. I stopped at the entrance and checked all my info again. And there it said, quite clearly “123 Winnebago Lane.” And it also said “Cresson, Texas.” My friend does not live in Cresson, Texas. I’d never heard of “Cresson, Texas.” Maybe it’s just the name of this very large housing tract.

And then I thought how stupid am I! I can’t just put in “123 Winnebago” and expect the phone to know that I mean my friend’s town, not just any old town with a 123 Winnebago Lane. So, I re-entered “123 Winnebago Lane” and carefully included the name of the town where my friend actually lives! After driving for half an hour,  to the wrong place, I still had an hour to go to get to the right place.

It wasn’t a difficult drive, and there weren’t all that many people on the road, their having more sense than to be out in the cloudy, drizzly weather. The phone took me down all the roads I should have been on, and, yes, in just about an hour, I reached “123 Winnebago” in the town where my friend does live, and the gate that I did recognize, and where I punched in the appropriate code and watched with great relief when the gate opened and allowed my entrance.

We had a nice visit. I’ll go again. The trip should go more easily, as I now have her complete address in my Contacts app.

 

My child, use common sense and sound judgment!
Always keep them in mind.
They will help you to live a long and beautiful life.
 You will walk safely and never stumble;

Proverbs 3:21-23 (Contemporary English Version)

 

When I bemoan modern life and how we’re ceding our brain power to our phones and computers, Kevin reminds me that using modern technology can require some complicated thinking skills. And he feels that our brains are up to it. Even mine.

And there actually is a “Cresson, Texas.” I wasn’t just making up that part.

Winter Prep

| Patience, Peace, Self-Control

There was a blog a year-and-a-half ago, or so, about how my kids had purchased a put-it-up-yourself, heavy-duty plastic greenhouse for me to use to protect some plants from the winter weather. And, how I took it down all by myself (and tripped out of it after the last of the supports had been removed). The next fall, they put it up, staked it down, and I put some of my more tender patio plants inside it. Many survived, and, once again, I took the thing down, by myself, the next spring. The first year, I could absolutely not get it folded up and replaced in the large plastic storage bag in which it came. I had just wadded the thing up and shoved it into a small shed we have at the back of the yard. The second year, I did a much better job and it was almost completely in the  bag.

When taking down the plastic greenhouse, I used the construction instructions and just started at the bottom and went through all the stages backwards. The last parts that had been put in place were the first ones that I removed. It went much better the second year.

This fall, we had some early, low temperature weather, and no one was going to be around to erect the little greenhouse. And I was unwilling to haul all those a-little-sturdy-but-also-a-little-vulnerable plants into the house. I just don’t have the surfaces to accommodate them all. And I thought to myself if I can take it down all by myself, then I should be able to put it up by myself. (Sometimes I have a way unreasonable evaluation of my own abilities.)

I got the instructions out, read them, and decided how hard can it be. (Fill in your own ideas in your head about that.)

I put on my overalls and got a jacket and pulled out the instructions for putting up the little greenhouse. Boldly, I went out to the shed, unlocked the door, and pulled out the almost-completely-in-the-storage-bag greenhouse and lugged it up to the house. I pulled the pieces out and read the first step (Unpack the FlowerHouse). Step two was “Take fiberpoles out of pack and assemble them completely.” Then I went back to the shed and found the long, skinny bag that held all the metal pieces that actually hold up the greenhouse.

The next step was to insert the side support poles into small pockets. These side supports, two on each side, make supporting crosses that hold up the sides of the “FlowerHouse.” It just sounded so easy. The problem is that the greenhouse is just a limp pile of heavy-duty plastic. It does not stand up by itself until those poles are installed, so I cannot just stand up inside it and put those poles in place. I worked for almost an hour, pulling and tugging, crawling inside the supportless bundle, trying to find those “small pockets,” and struggling, without success, to poke the ends of the fiberpoles into those “small pockets.” It was the Laurel and Hardy version of putting up a “FlowerHouse.” As far as I know, no neighbor filmed me at work. The neighbors on one side and the back have privacy fences, and the neighbor on the other side has a big hedge, so my struggles weren’t obvious, I suppose, to any of them.

And, there are actually some support pieces permanently installed in the structure. They are at the front and the back of the structure (or, what will be the structure) that support the front and the back panels which also have the doorways, which have heavy-duty-zippers to open and close them. Finally, I solved the problem by hauling the thing to the side of the house and struggling to set one of those end panels up against the bricks of the wall. That enabled me to get inside, sort of, and push plastic away enough that I was able to install the first two fiberpoles (into their small pockets) in an X shape against one side wall. I worked quickly to put the other two in, on the opposite side. And, Ta-Dah! Along with the pre-installed supports at the front and back, everything else was easy-peasy. Ish.

I’m sorry I didn’t carefully note the time I started and when I finished. I know I worked more than an hour, and the amount of time it took to install that first set of poles was about three-fourths of the time I spent on the project. I did hope for very quiet weather for the next twenty-four hours. I didn’t stake the thing down until the next afternoon. A big wind storm might very easily have sent the thing rolling down the street.

    God spoke: “Lights! Come out!
        Shine in Heaven’s sky!
    Separate Day from Night.
        Mark seasons and days and years,
    Lights in Heaven’s sky to give light to Earth.”
        And there it was.

Genesis 1:14-15 (The Message Translation)

 

I complain, bitterly, about our horrid summer heat. But, really, I think I’d be in really bad shape if I lived someplace where there are blizzards (and more than one during the winter!) and biting winds, and snowplows have to come and rescue people. Once, when Peter was here, I was checking the weather information on my phone. I told Peter to look at the temperature information on the refrigerator, and it said the freezer was 5°. I showed him the temperature in Brooklyn, where Jeremy and Sarah live. It was 7.°  That’s winter. I must stop complaining.

A Cautionary Tale

| Patience, Peace

As I was walking towards the door at the grocery store one Thursday afternoon, an employee was bringing carts back from the parking lot. “Here,” she said, offering an empty cart. I took it and went through the store quickly, getting some last minute stuff (and using some coupons). At the checkout counter, I had put all my groceries on the conveyor belt, when I glanced down and saw a long, dark thing in the bottom of the cart, pushed against one of the sides. What? Hmmm.  It was a cane.

“Someone’s left their cane in this cart,” I said to the cashier, who was preoccupied with scanning my groceries. I was wielding my coupons and getting my loyalty card and my credit card from my wallet, and had run out of hands. Another employee came up to begin bagging my groceries, and I picked up the cane, held it out to her, and said, again, “Someone has left their cane in this cart.”

“Oh,” she said. “I’ll take it to the office,” and she walked the few steps over to the customer service desk, and, I’m hoping, to the Lost and Found. I’m imagining someone using their cane to walk to the store’s entrance and then putting the cane in the cart because holding on to the cart’s handle would probably be enough support as they walked through the store. Then, um, maybe they used the cart as they walked from the store to their car. And, if they put the cart, gently, up against the car’s side, they could have put a bag of two of groceries into the back seat and closed the door. Then, maybe they opened the front door and got inside the car, being able to manage all that, but also forgetting to get the cane. Maybe they got all the way home and got out of the car before even realizing that the cane had not come home along with the groceries.

I understand about leaving important things behind.

That’s what I did, one day recently. I put my purse and my big bag of bags in the cart and walked toward the store. When I got up to the entrance, I saw that there were some of the smaller carts (like the one in the photo above), and I decided that I didn’t need the big, regular cart. The smaller one would work fine, and I transferred to the smaller cart. I shopped for the few things that I needed. and finished up pretty quickly. Having less that ten items, I could go through the self checkout lane.  And, I was able to get everything easily into my purse, which really is pretty spacious.

I walked back to the car, opened the door, put my purse in, and, hmmm, where were my bags? Nooooooooo. When I switched carts, I’d left my recycle grocery store bags in the other cart. My large HEB insulated bag, a few other lightweight bags that I’d been using for a couple of years, and one of the Crayola bags that I’d purchased at the Crayola Experience  store.

I went right back into the store and waited in line at the Customer Service area. When it was my turn, I explained what happened and asked if the bags had been turned in to the Lost and Found. They looked. And, no, there were no bags. And we both assumed that someone, who walked up to the cart area, after I had walked away, looked and said, “Well, well. Free bags!”

And that was that.

 

 “You’re familiar with the old written law, ‘Love your friend,’ and its unwritten companion, ‘Hate your enemy.’ I’m challenging that. I’m telling you to love your enemies. Let them bring out the best in you, not the worst. When someone gives you a hard time, respond with the energies of prayer, for then you are working out of your true selves, your God-created selves. This is what God does. He gives his best—the sun to warm and the rain to nourish—to everyone, regardless: the good and bad, the nice and nasty. If all you do is love the lovable, do you expect a bonus? Anybody can do that. If you simply say hello to those who greet you, do you expect a medal? Any run-of-the-mill sinner does that.

Matthew 5:43-47 (The Message Translation)

 

A few days after I inadvertently gave away my HEB bags, I bought new ones–a new, large insulated bag and another “Texas” HEB bag. And, I have four of those nice, big, sturdy “penguin” bags that I got, for free, from the zoo folks, who used them as advertisement for the bond vote for Zoo improvements, which passed!

Let’s Read a Book! Let’s Read Another One!

| Joy, Love

I’ve been going back to the elementary school near my church for Reading Club again. I just have one girl now, whom I’ve had for the past two years, also. They may add a couple of more kids, but for now, it’s just the two of us, which is nice, because she gets to read more. We chat while she’s eating her lunch. Sometimes I make hangman games on a white board for her; she can eat while figuring out the word. Then, we read.

The first book she chose was about Clara Barton, a brave woman she’d learned about in class. Then we started a Dr. Seuss tongue twister book, which was pretty challenging, because it was made of nonsense (but rhyming) words, and it didn’t really make any sense. Then, last week, was “Game Week,” when card games are available for us to use for a change of pace. She chose Uno, and she plays with her family. A lot. She knew the rules and the strategy and won two out of three games.

This week, I brought a book that I’d seen advertised, A Stone Sat Still, and I had checked it out from the public library. It’s a new book from a writer and illustrator who won a Caldecott Award for the book They All Saw a Cat. It describes how different animals see parts of a cat and think what they saw was a part of a plant or a toy, and so on, until the reader realizes that all those parts belonged to a cat.

 

The premise of the new book is similar to the Cat one. Here, the stone is described with a variety of adjectives, like high, low, rough, smooth; and nouns, such as a kitchen, a maze, a map. My Book Club girl read all the pages, easily recognizing most of the words and being able to sound out the others. She read it all, but wasn’t quite as entranced by it as I was.

I turned back to the beginning and talked through it.

“How can this same stone be high AND low?” She realized that to a snail, the stone might be high. But to an elephant, it could seem low. We went through the book again, page by page, with her explaining how the different descriptors could all be true, depending on what animal was nearby.

“Now,” I said. “Let’s think about some words that are true about you.”

 

“You are a daughter. You are a cousin (and I knew this for sure because a younger boy came up to her in the library for a hug, and she said it was her cousin). You are a granddaughter. You are a student. You are a friend (and this is obvious to me, as most every kid we walk by says ‘Hi’ to her). You are a cheerleader (some guys in her family are part of a football team that plays on the weekends). You are many different things. Lots of words describe you.”

“And I’m a basketball player!” she said. “And,” she said shyly, “I think I’m going to be an aunt.”

“And,” she said … (and I am not making this up) … “I’m a reader.”

It just doesn’t get any better than that.

 

God made the four young men smart and wise. They read a lot of books and became well educated.

Daniel 1:17a (Contemporary English Version)

 

We needed a few weeks to read the Clara Barton book, because it was a biography and had many pages and many, many words. And, we read the Stone book twice. We’re on a roll!

 

 

 

What a Time Saver It Would Be to Learn Lessons the Easy Way

| Faithfulness, Patience

I’m an impulse buyer.

“Oh, that looks delicious. I can put that in a salad.”

“That dress looks perfect for me.”

“That plant will look great in the front flower bed.”

“Those shoes look really comfortable.”

And so on …

Sometimes, it’s a good choice. ‘Way too often, it’s not.

 

A while back, at least a year, maybe a year and a half, I was at one of the local nurseries that I really enjoy visiting. It was probably spring. Not last spring; the one before that. I was looking for interesting plants and reading the labels on different sorts of growing things, and I found Turk’s Cap. The little information tag said, “Attracts hummingbirds and butterflies.” That sounded promising. We think that someone in the neighborhood must have hummingbird feeders, because we often see hummingbirds in the yard. They just come for a quick visit, because we haven’t had any flowering plants that seem attractive to the birds. And a variety of butterflies shows up sometimes. So, I thought, perfect.

I was debating where to plant the three that I bought. I debated a long, long time, while the plants did their best to grow while still in the flimsy pots they came in. I finally decided on the bed at the back of the house. This spring, I dug in lots of compost and got the bed all ready. It takes me a while, sometimes, to get everything all done, and, by the time I was ready to put them in the ground, I’d bought a few more of the plants. The first ones have red flowers and the newer ones have pink flowers.

I put on my overalls and went out one morning recently to plant those Turk’s Caps, and, just as I was picking up the tools I would need, I thought Maybe I should see what the sunshine needs are for these plants. I went inside and looked up Turk’s Cap information. They will grow most anywhere, in this climate, but they do best in the sun. Full sun.

I went out into the sunny, ish, back yard. The bed by the back wall had a sliver of sunshine. For about 30 minutes. Otherwise. Shade, shade, and more shade.

Now what?

I thought about the sunny places I have. The side yard at the front corner of the house, which is full of cannas and daisies, reliable plants I like, gets quite a bit of sun, but not the blasting afternoon sun that the front flower bed gets.  And I really want to plant those Turk’s Caps. So I spent all day Wednesday (a nice warm day) digging up the cannas at the front end of that side bed. I moved many of them farther to the back end, filling in some bare spaces. I culled some of the daisies, who have pretty much taken over, and made space. The Turk’s Caps are supposed to grow nice and full, especially in the sun.

I watered the transplants and gave them all some good plant food. And now it’s just a wait and see season. As I was working, I saw one of our resident lizards, enjoying the last sunny day we’ll have for a little while.

 

 

Pay attention to advice and accept correction, so you can live sensibly.

Proverbs 19:20 (Contemporary English Version)

 

A friend from church works for Urban Reap, part of Mission Waco Ministries. I was having a Turk’s Cap conversation with him, about having to change my planting plans. Not enough sun where I wanted to put them. “Oh yes,” he said. They had planted some Turk’s Cap at their house, too. In a shady spot, where they aren’t doing as well as he’d hoped. “They’re growing,” he said. “But they’re not putting on any flowers. Not enough sun.”

 

Whether Weather

| Faithfulness, Joy, Patience

I’m pretty much a fair-weather friend. Dictionary.com defines Fair-weather friend as “A friend who supports others only when it is easy and convenient to do so.” But I’m talking about real fair weather. That’s what I’m a friend of. I like the kind of weather where I can walk around outside and not be constantly searching for a little piece of shade to protect me from the miserable, scorching summer heat.

I complain, bitterly, about the blistering summer heat in July and August, and the fact that it pretty much continues way into September. I see the ads and articles in magazines about Back-to-School fall clothing and recipes for “cooler weather” cooking, and I roll my eyes. I’ve only just, in the past couple of weeks, moved my lighter weight clothes to the guest room closet, and brought the heavier clothes back into my regular closet. I’m glad to see them, those “winter” clothes, even though people who live in, say, Michigan, would laugh at the idea that they are all I have for “winter.” I have a heavy wool coat, and I think that’s the only woolen article of clothing that I own. And I wear that coat about three times a year, otherwise it’s lighter weight sweaters and jackets.

Friday, November 1, 2019–There is frost on the ground. Seriously. the temperature in Waco at 6:00 a.m. was between 27° and 30° depending on where in town you were.

Halloween this year was near freezing. Really. That’s a most unusual situation for us. By Tuesday, the high is predicted at 73, with a low of 57. That’s Central Texas for you. Of course, things are then supposed to drop down to 60’s and low 50’s, but that’s not down-jackets-and-wool-hats-and-gloves weather. It’s rather what we were looking forward to, back in September, when the high temperature was 91°.

I did move some of the plants on the patio close to the house and cover them with a sheet, hoping to get a little more time before a real freeze does them in. Some things in pots will be just fine. There’s a pot with sedum that I’ve had for fifteen years.  It’s just finished blooming and will die back with the first freeze. It will be the first thing to start growing again in March.

There’s lots of lemon-related plants: lemon thyme and lemon mint and lemon verbena and lemon tree, which is a kind of eucalyptus. Lemon scented things are supposed to be mosquito repellents, but I’m not so sure. They are, however, pretty easy to grow and are sturdy.

Eventually I’ve learned to ask the important questions about hardiness and water needs and light. Still, though, I sometimes buy without asking for important information. Like when I bought several Turk’s Cap plants for the bed at the back of the house. They’re hardy and attract hummingbirds and butterflies. Right before I went out to plant them in the nice bed I’d gotten ready, I checked the computer to see what kind of light they needed. Sun. And lots of it. Sun. Which barely touches that bed. They’ll have to go someplace else. I’m not quite sure where.

 

When the clouds are full of water, it rains.
When the wind blows down a tree, it lies where it falls.
Don’t sit there watching the wind. Do your own work.
Don’t stare at the clouds. Get on with your life.

Ecclesiastes 11:3,4  (The Message)

 

When we were first married, David was in the Air Force and was stationed at Hickam Air Force Base, right next to Pearl Harbor, on Oahu. So, Hawaii. Right? I took lightweight, summery sorts of clothes. We went in April, and I was fine all spring and summer and into fall. There are really only two seasons there: Summer and Rainy. In September, I had to ask Mother to please send some of my long-sleeved things, because the temps were going down a little. By February, when I was student teaching, I was pretty chilly on some days. I had a raincoat and a shawl (it was the 70’s), and that was it for outerwear. One day, at school, I was clutching my shawl around me, while I was working with a kid. He looked at my shivering self and said, “Why don’t you ask your mother to buy you a coat?”  Seems like not every day in the tropics is all that fair.

Now, I’m going to get on with things. And I’ll check on those plants under the sheet.

I’d Like Walter Cronkite Back, Please

| Peace

Walter Cronkite was known as “the most trusted man in America.” He was anchorman for the CBS Evening News for 19 years (1962–1981). I’d like him back.

At the time, there were three major networks, and much of what was aired was entertainment oriented, at least as I remember it. There were news programs, local and national. But there didn’t seem to be as much programing with the intention of getting folks riled up. And there weren’t hundreds of networks and programs. And ads. And ads that looked like programs.

I’m sure that there were biases and slants. But I don’t recall programming where people reporting the news (or were purporting to communicate the news) were using their loudest voices and angriest faces while they were interviewing people. (Maybe that part got edited out.)

I’m already weary of the nastiness and hatefulness and lack of civility.

I want to be informed. But I don’t want yelling. I don’t want sneering. I don’t want lying. I don’t want lack of respect. I don’t want disdain.

I want to get information in a calm, sensible, comprehensible way. I’m ready to listen to all sides. As long as no one is unkind. (See above.)

Meanwhile, I certainly plan to vote. And the thing I’m most interested in voting for this fall is a local bond issue for our zoo. Some new buildings. Some improvements to others. A new exhibit for endangered African penguins (warm weather birds, not the Arctic kind).

This is the promotional logo for the zoo bond issue. There are yard signs around town. This is from a recycle bag that they were giving out a couple of weeks ago. I got two. This past week, I got two more.

My final “Behind the Scene at the Zoo” session was Wednesday. We saw the reptiles and amphibians.

 

 

 

I have one more Life Long Learning class, coming up next month. “A Literary Introduction to Social Justice.” Sounds interesting. Thought-provoking. Current.

 

 

 If it is within your power, make peace with all people.

Romans 12:18 (The Voice Translation)

 

 

Lord, make me an instrument of your peace. Where there is hatred, let me bring love.
Where there is offense, let me bring pardon. Where there is discord, let me bring union.
Where there is error, let me bring truth. Where there is doubt, let me bring faith.
Where there is despair, let me bring hope. Where there is darkness, let me bring your light.
Where there is sadness, let me bring joy.
O Master, let me not seek as much to be consoled as to console,
to be understood as to understand, to be loved as to love,
for it is in giving that one receives, it is in self-forgetting that one finds,
it is in pardoning that one is pardoned, it is in dying that one is raised to eternal life.
(Attributed to St. Francis, but most likely not actually written by him)