Beauty blooms in unexpected places,rocks, mire, mess,
becoming even more beautiful
for the place and time it
has chosen.
In what hard place are you being beautiful?
Author: Shirleyjdietz
I'm still finding out what I'm about but I think it has something to do with writing and connecting with people and serving God. I don't believe I have to understand it all in order to do it and am pretty content with what comes my way, day by day. I believe there is a God who created all of us, the world we live in, the science we think disproves Him, well, everything. I know my natural tendency is to think I don't need God and I need to be saved from that. I know I need a savior and I'm thankful I have one. The small glimpses I get from the here and now of what my real home is going to be like when God restores it all - that's what fuels me, stirs my sense of adventure, and keeps me going. Until then, I write about what is.
Deciding to Change
Do you find it hard? I have held back on making changes to this blog for a long time, mostly because I have a hard time knowing what to change to. I’m not blessed with strong design opinions that send me searching for an exact thing. I’m not technically astute enough to know what changes would make the blog more efficient or easier to use. I’m not into hiring people to do things for me, or looking to pay for premium themes. I don’t have a lot of time to figure it all out.
Until now…
I’m visiting my Seattle family and am not expected to do much except amuse myself. Suddenly, there is time so I’m making the decision. The blog will change it’s look starting April 1 with the first post of the A to Z Challenge. On that day, if you are one of my readers and think you’ve gone to the wrong place because you are not seeing all the swirly, busy, colorful stuff going on in the theme I’ve used for the last century, no, you are in the right place, read on.
It will be simple, easy to read and navigate and full of all the usual.
I’m preparing you (and myself). Just sayin’…
And I really am interested – what has been the hardest thing you’ve decided to change lately? Or maybe it’s something you wish you were changing and haven’t had the time, like me?
Last Days of March
With inner clocks that sense
Every additional minute
As it is added to hours of sun
And not because it makes them warm
But because it is all that they know to do
They bloom.
The way I always thought it should be…
Seattle in early spring is the way I imagined it before I had ever been here. Today was cool (50’s ) and rainy, clouds rolling through. Everything green is glowing, in contrast to the grays and browns of wet rocks and trees. I am usually here during the one week in summer when there is a heat wave, so this sweet chill is a treat for me. I am prepared for this visit with my sweatshirt hoodies and scarves, and of course my walking shoes.
I took my friend Charlie the dog for a walk on one of our favorite routes from last summer. I couldn’t stop looking at all the things that were visible through trees that hadn’t leafed out yet. Surprisingly, there are a lot of houses hanging precariously on the sides of the ravine above the park’s lower trail. I did not know they were so close. In spite of the cold, there are flowers coming out all over, and they are different from the ones in the summer or fall. And the lush moss grows everywhere. 
We walked up to the top of the ridge over Alki Beach (what a workout, gasp..) and I was glad to be here, grateful to be seeing it all. I couldn’t help wishing that my friend Karyn who followed my stories last summer was still here to read again. I was grateful that it was a day when resurrection, physical resurrection, was on my mind. As unexplainable as it sounds to modern ears, a man came back to life never to die again. Because he did this miraculous thing, Karyn will too. This is not a hard thing for me to believe, because I see life coming out of what looks dead all around me. It’s right there in front of us, if we have eyes to see and hearts willing to consider.
Thanking Jesus for doing what he did – the first of many.
A to Z Challenge: Theme Reveal
Eat This!
I am a big supporter of FOOD. I think it is absolutely remarkable that everything we humans need to live and be in health is found on this planet. It’s almost like it was made for us. In fact, it is exactly like it was made for us. There is much to investigate on this topic and although I have never been a food blogger, I have done a stint teaching nutrition for the University of Florida Extension Service. I learned a lot and it was fun. I think I can share that fun with readers.
I love to photograph food (I’m talking mainly about fruits, vegetables and ovo-lacto food items). The colors are often bright and exciting, and there are also unusual shapes and ways that food presents itself. And because we get to eat it after the photographs, there will be an occassional recipe or fun way to eat the food of the day. A lot of my subjects will be nutrient dense and so good for you, but since I also believe food should make us happy there will be a few that fall in the “comfort food” category.
Don’t think that this is an easy theme to alphabetize. Since I want to stick with healthful foods that are as close to unprocessed as possible, the choices are limited. There are tons of letter C foods, but try finding some of the others. I love finding unusual items that might surprise you and inspire you to EAT THIS! Hoping you will check in regularly.
The Poem Hunter
The Poem Hunter
(when faced with a party at which poems will be read)
How do you find a poem when
Your head hurts and your eyes
Don’t want to read
When the grass needs cutting and
Your husband is due at the airport
When it must be true and worthwhile
And makes delight in people
Who understand that sort
Of thing.
How do you find a poem that
Matches the mood or lack of one
That teaches you what you
Already know about life,
To be true, or maybe you doubt
To be true. And most of
What you read is defying your sense
Of understanding.
Others find them, but you do
Not have the patience because
You have a headache and
The lawn needs mowing. How
Do you find that one special poem when
It’s obvious you feel guilty
About not writing
That poem.
The occasion will come and
Your turn, your poem, will be something
You couldn’t find, although it is
Probably out there somewhere
It’s enough
To make you wonder if
You even like poetry. Because
Sometimes, you don’t.
What is it with girls and horses?
What is it with girls and horses? There is an affinity there that becomes so obvious from a veterinarian’s perspective, especially when the veterinarian is also a female. I’ve been riding around in the vetmobile for a few days and it always gives me some unique character studies to write about, some experiences with blood and manure, and a lot of hours sitting in the truck. But, girls and horses first…
Today we made a call for some routine immunizations and dental work. There were three horses, two women and a toddler. It was the mom and her baby girl that were most interesting to watch. If there was such a thing as a stereotype horsegirl, this gal would win the title for sure. Cute little thing (the mom), slender, tight jeans with bling on the pockets, western boots, big smile and horse, horse, horse in her talk. Both ladies took in horses as rescue projects, whether they could afford it or not.
Mom was evidently teaching her little girl to be at ease around big animals and at the same time trying not to let her walk under the horses or get near their feet. She was more than busy running after the child and keeping her away from the dental tools, the antiseptic bucket, the vet truck and the yard gate while still keeping her fairly happy. Was she frazzled, upset with the child or feeling sorry for herself? No. She was relaxed, calm and equally loving her mother role and her horse girl role.
All these horse girls talk about rain rot, cleaning sheaths, varying consistencies of manure, multiple kinds of horse feed, supplements and medicines like it was second nature and the most interesting stuff in the world. They love to watch Dr. Julia work and to ask her questions. And more than once this week I’ve heard something like “this old horse has been with me for __ number of years so I’m going to take good care of him now”. And they say it when they’re looking at a pretty hefty bill for meds and services.
Dr. Julia and an associate vet performed surgery in the field one day. There were two procedures needing to be done and only a short window of time in which to do them before the anesthetic wore off. One doc took the castration and the other, the hernia repair. It’s interesting how you get a horse to lie down on the ground with his feet in the air.
The two vets both went to the next client as well. This horse had an interesting procedure done. It was blind from glaucoma in one eye. In cases like this, pressure continues to increase in the eye and it can become painful, and even rupture. It is better to remove the eye, and that’s what they did. Not fun to watch, lots of blood, no pictures. You’re welcome.
Two days worth of clients. All the horses were owned and attended to by women. That is not to say that men aren’t involved, but they seem more content to provide the finances, build the barns and fences and then let the women actually touch the horses. So what is it with women and horses? Didn’t it used to be the cowboy that was in love with his horse?
As usual, visiting Dr. Julia gives me time with Tess the dog and her sidekick cat-with-no-name. Every morning when I let Tess out, she sits for a moment on the top step and surveys her yard. The cat comes and joins her. I didn’t catch it in the photo but I often see them both staring out with their backs turned toward the door, like two old friends on the porch. It’s beautiful.
Sitting in it…
Today in church was awkward. Not that it hasn’t been before. I often am hit with this feeling of being an invisible sponge-like being, hoping to pick up on whatever God has for me, whatever I have asked him for. I have friends there, good friends actually, but I’m gone frequently and nobody really knows if/where I belong in the faith community.
I appreciate being able to sing, to listen, to enjoy church in a way that leaves me free of feeling critical, disappointed and upset. I go to a good church. But, wow, when I feel awkward it’s difficult. I question my presence there. I feel alone. Isolated. It’s so easy to sing the last song, pick up my stuff, and be gone. No one stops me.
God stops me. I can’t get past the part where “the church” is a major player in the story. SHE’S THE BRIDE AT THE WEDDING (excuse the all caps). I must not only try to identify with her, I must try to be her. I have a clear picture of what that “church” means – it’s not a denomination, a particular group, a specific behavior or costume. But it’s real. I find evidence of it across the board, in different cultures, in unlikely places, at odd times, the invisible church is there. identified by mutual love of Jesus (THE GROOM, excuse the all caps).
Anyway, today being one of the awkward days, I sat in it. I know the devil (who wants to be a major player but doesn’t get to) would have me feel estranged in that environment and to wallow in the feeling and draw conclusions from it. Feeling awkward is not fatal. It can happen to me and I survive. I can fight back and seek out someone else who looks awkward and persist in conversation with them until we’ve both felt included in something bigger than ourselves. We’ve made small steps toward community.
I give the “feeling” of discomfort up to God, who reminds me that feelings are fickle. Next week I might feel incredibly part of it all, connected to everyone. Church is complicated. Church is necessary. Church is part of a bigger plan and I don’t always “get it”. But I will sit here, learning, until I do. But today was awkward, just sayin’…
Watch your step…
Observation while biking around the neighborhood this morning:
Don’t shuffle, don’t waddle (unless you are pregnant). If you walk like that you will get old, immediately.
Looking for Adventure
I have this fear, and I’m sure we all do – that we are going to run out of adventures and slip ignominiously into the boredom abyss. To stave off this looming possibility I decided to sign up as an Uber driver.
I signed up a few weeks ago actually, almost by accident because it was so easy. I wondered if I could and before I knew it, I had. Not that they don’t vet their drivers, because they do. But it takes a matter of minutes instead of the days that usually pass when you want to be cleared for something.
I took my first rider the next day, just to see what it was like before I left to visit my daughter. I took a nice tourist 10 miles south to visit a friend of his. It was the briefest of exposure to the Uber app but enough to make me think “I can do this. I can.”
Now, more than three weeks have passed, my Mom has gone back to the north woods, and Uber has started sending me messages asking why I’m not driving and hinting about my partner account being at risk (AAAAGGGHHH!!!) They call it an inactivity alert. Of course we wouldn’t want that to happen, so I went driving yesterday. All day. I’ll show them.
It’s slightly addictive. It’s like the feeling I get when I’ve just published a post and am waiting for reactions. The phone starts ringing and flashing. I get such an adrenaline rush. I have to accept that invite. I have to see who wants a ride. I have to get out there and sit in long lines of slow moving traffic.
No, wait…
I thought I was used to the long red lights at intersections. Here in Florida, probably no where else, the traffic is horrible, horrible, horrible in the winter. The weather is nice and that’s why so many people are here, in their cars. But now, the red lights seem much longer, like maybe half an hour when I am trying to get quickly to a passenger. And maybe even longer than that in cases like tonight when five teen-age boys were giggling and snorting over something on their ride to Shake ‘n Steak, in my car.
I won’t get rich driving for Uber (more about that later) but I’m already finding it adventurous. Can’t wait to write about the experience as it progresses… just sayin’.
I Just Have to Say... 