Things that make Life Swell

One of my best friends visited Maine this week and took some lovely photos. Two in particular I'm sharing with you, reader, because they made me think of those pleasures that make life swell. True, this post has no real importance and may not even be interesting for you to read. It's simply a rather childish list of things that I enjoy. Feel free to gloss over them and wait for another post of greater interest. I do hope that you take a moment to enjoy her photos, though.

That List of Swell Things:

~Visiting Maine (one of my four favorite states)

~Misty and chilly mornings either by a lake or in the woods

~Big, thick sweaters or fleeces that make you feel like a blissful kid because they're cozy

~Dogs that smile in the corners of their mouths and want to be petted (like mine)

~Walking into a grocery store that plays Classical music all day (I visited the first ever this week, and almost forgot to buy groceries, I was so busy sorting through Mozart, Bach, and Vivaldi).

~Hot Apple Cider (beats hot cocoa all hollow)

~Getting letters of any sort (particularly those with a stamp and an envelope)

~Taxiing down a runway and feeling that first little lurch at take-off

~Holding newborns (particularly siblings and cousins)

~Observing the first signs of spring, when all of the trees are blooming, the air is warm with a nip of winter lingering on, and everything is done up in pastels.

~Hiking through the mountains and smelling the pine-and-dust scent, stepping through a sun-speckled forest.

~Playing with children who still know how to pretend, and don't make fun of teddy bears (I have two: La Pine and Marshmallow Custard).

~Being with friends who will listen to anything you need to say, put up with your nutty antics, and remain loyal whether they're next door or across an ocean.

~Finding a new quote to add to my ever-expanding collection

~Listening to that unique quiet that only comes with falling snow; waking up to a blanket of snow that's left the world a magical silvery-white; skiing and throwing snowballs; coming in to thaw beside a fire

~Singing (but only when no one's listening, because I can't sing for toffee).

~Watching a gorgeous sunset anywhere in the world, with the consciousness that it's wonderful just being alive

Front Porch Learning

I spent some time down in the hills of southwest Virginia for two family reunions this past weekend. I hadn't visited for eleven years, so it was definitely a fulfilling experience matching all of the faces to the names I'd heard of since I was smaller than I am now. I'd spent hours pouring over mom's books on our family heritage, reading records, and staring at photographs of relatives wondering what they looked like now, what they were doing, or as is the case now - if they were still alive. Unfortunately, many of the people who made up the "backbone" of both reunions are either too old, or have already passed on since I last visited. The younger generation no longer cares as much to come, nor do they show interest in the family history. When the older members heard about one of my intended majors - history - they all replied with the same exclamation: "Wonderful! We haven't had a young person interested in history since Aunt Hetty." My thought of course, was to wonder how it was possible not have an interest in history. After all, we're descended from it, we're part of the making of it, and we'll pass it on to others in either a direct or indirect way.
On another note, I was able to see the stars at night again. I was able to hear crickets and all manner of night critters chattering away about their tales under the moon. I heard the gentle southern breezes whispering lullabies through the trees and smelled the sweet fresh air that still lingers deep in the woods of Virginia. I watched nature come alive before me and remembered a very important lesson: it's the little things - the memories - that count. Cherish your memories, reader. Don't let them tarnish in the recesses of your mind. Write them down, share them with others. Memories are the rare gems that make up history's trove, unique to each person. Remember them, or they may be forgotten - just like Haysi, Virginia - left only for the crickets and trees to whisper about.

Happy Birthday, Melville!

What better way to start the month of August than with a post honoring Herman Melville's birthday? As we all know, this author wrote the most important book you'll ever read (apart from the Bible), titled Moby Dick or The Whale. Had this famous author lived to be 194, it would have warmed the cockles of his heart no doubt, to see his faithful readers facing their obstacles like Ahab and engaging in heated debates as to whether or not his novel is actually about whales. Unfortunately, he only lived to be 72, but by then the printing press had been invented, so we can peruse his work in loving memory of his esteemed name. All this to say, grab the nearest copy of this book (if it is not already clasped in your eager hands) and read it cover to cover. Just don't write in the book - it's too special for that. Underlining is recommended. And if you can, hunt down Mr Jones and ask him to explain his thoughts on the novel. You won't be disappointed.

Happy Birthday, Melville!

Character Crux

I've been reading a lovely biography on Amelia Earhart (if you're interested, it's called East to the Dawn, by Susan Butler), and with every chapter I'm amazed at the way she's able to carry herself through difficult times. I wasn't aware of how strenuous her childhood was, and I truly admire how well she could mask her problems in order to keep her friends and relations at ease. I often find myself at a crux when it comes to dealing with tight or strenuous situations: I feel as though I need people's help and advice at times when I feel alone, but at the same time I'm concerned that I'm burdening them with news of the blues. I've found often throughout my life that I get along very well with mental blocks - with these in tow, I'm able to face a lot more. A tendency I have is to go into overdrive with sunshine and sugar when I speak or correspond with people. In this way, I keep them at ease and attempt to pour sunshine on my situation. In short, I turn things into a Pollyanna kind of world in attempt to bandage the situation. I've heard various stances on the way I handle this: some say that mental blocks are unhealthy, while others encourage me to keep my emotions to myself, never allowing them to spill onto my sleeve. Which is more healthy, I'd like to know? I believe that to a certain extent, everyone uses mental blocks - the way Amelia utilizes hers is quite ingenious, and I think, shows great strength of character. Proverbs mentions that the person who controls his spirit is better than he who takes a city (v. 16:32). So are we to keep our feelings to ourselves and allow time and concentration to aid our problems, or should we take our cares to others? Does it depend on the situation or the extremity? Unfortunately, life isn't as easy as the steps in a cook-book, but we also have a Roadmap and a Guide to help us through the difficulties. And in Amelia's case, we have planes. ;^)

Fiddlin' Around

Have you ever come across a song or a genre of song that calls for foot-tapping and dancing? Celtic music never fails to inspire such reactions on my part - I just can't keep still. I found this song recently and enjoyed it so much after the first line that I've decided to learn it. Lots of listening to come, since I don't have the sheet music for it: I'll have to learn it by ear instead. At least it will be ready for my family come November. I see lots of tiny tapping feet in the future!

What's Real

So I'm breaking the 9-3-9-3-9 pattern of posting I've had so far. It wasn't planned, and I wanted to keep it after I noticed (I like patterns and stability), but that would mean no posting till August. Anyways, I didn't just log on to post about something as insignificant as number patterns, so I'll move on...

God never passes up an opportunity to teach us something - even if we feel like we know it because we've read it hundreds of times in His Word. That really struck home this weekend in preparation for an uprooting. You see, there happens to be a weight limit when it comes to moving, and if that limit is exceeded, well, you pay a shiny penny for it. So this time around, we've had to let go of furniture that goes way back... to the time I was around two years old. Seeing these things given away to strangers was... harder than I had anticipated. Those weren't merely pieces of furniture, they were links to memories and special moments throughout my life so far. God was teaching me an important lesson through mom, who reminded me that we're not to rely on earthly treasures, but heavenly ones. Spend your emotion and care on human beings, not things. I'd heard that verse so many times during devotional and sermons that I could say it in my sleep. But I hadn't really lived it yet. And believe me, I lived it and learned it this weekend. It's hard when God decides to teach us lessons, but we come out of it stronger. Another scab is peeled away, even though it smarts. He's right, though - in the end, what's real in life? What will really matter tomorrow if it's there for you: the people who care about you or the object that collects dust elegantly?

A Little Weekend Humor...

Here's some fun for your Saturday morning, folks. Have a good weekend!