I’ve been in a pondering mood lately. Going far beyond my regular early morning meditations. Contemplating concerns near and dear to my heart. Confronting those concerns that inflict fear, anxiety, and regret. Embracing those that stir joy, hope and purpose.
This then is but one tiny slice of all of that…
I am a quote person. Wherever their source – from books, famous people, poems, speeches, friends & family – I collect found quotes which more clearly express what I often struggle to articulate.
Then there are those quotes I don’t always understand…
Once upon a time many years ago, shortly before Ma passed away, I received a card from her in the snail mail. This was nothing unusual. Even though we lived a short distance away from each other and visited often, talked on the phone, and ate Family Feasts together regularly, she was known to snail mail surprise notes via USPS…just because.
Inside this particular note card was a handwritten quote by Omar Khayyam.
“The moving finger writes; and, having writ, moves on: nor all thy piety nor wit shall lure it back to cancel half a line, nor all thy tears wash out a word of it.”
Just recently, I had a spontaneous AHA moment. Seemingly out of nowhere and for no discernable reason or circumstance: I got it! As always, she fed me what I needed when I needed it. I even understood its relevance at the time Ma wrote it out and sent it to me.
Serendipitously, sometime in late March of this year, Paul McCartney dropped the lead single, Days We Left Behind from his latest album The Boys of Dungeon Lane scheduled for release the end of this month.
On this last day of February*, after scrapping several attempts to craft a blog post based upon my own feelings of overwhelm during the relentless escalation of ICE these past months, I received the March newsletter from The Poetry Society of South Carolina** in my email.
“…any bias is predatory. For us to understand that social justice and environmental justice are inextricably linked is critical. I want my work to inspire – I want it to inspire head, to inspire heart and I want it to inspire some action for a better future.”
J. Drew Lanham
When I began my own research of this new-to-me poet, my eyes quickly landed upon the title of his newest book of poems and prose, Joy is the Justice We Give Ourselves.
I did a double take on this title. Did you, too?
It hit me right where I am at in this moment. The joining of the times, emotional exhaustion, living out my values and convictions with empathy, doing what I can, using my (he)art to reach out/speak out, yet vacillating between is it enough? does it really count?
And here was an encouragement offered to me this very day: Joy is the Justice We Give Ourselves.
Hoping the book’s title was also in fact the title of a poem contained within its pages, I googled it and was hugely rewarded. Numerous on-line magazines, organizations, poetry reading meetings, and reviewers offer complete versions of the poem – in both written and audio format read by the poet J. Drew Lanham himself.
Excerpts from: Joy is the Justice We Give Ourselves by J. Drew Lanham
~ Joy is the truth, crooked lies hammered straight, whitewashed myths wiped away. Stone Mountain - just stone. Rushmore - no more. Give the eagles their mountains back. ~ Joy is the good news, without new dead names, no chokeholds or murdering knees. A night of sleep in your very own bed without shots in the dark - no more not waking up, full of lead. ~
Little did this poet know how well a stanza of this poem would segue into the ornithological depiction of resistance to the current state of our nation as discussed below. Thank you, sir.
Joy is the murmuration, then the stillness.
South Carolina Rebel Bird
The Rebel Bird logos**** are based upon the Star Wars Rebel Alliance emblem. They incorporate local state identity & flag symbolism to signal collective strength, opposition, and resistance against the current administration’s sanctioned ICE enforcement violence. In addition, Rebel Birds are a symbol of hope, freedom, and resistance against tyranny.
The Carolina Wren is set against the Palmetto Moon ( SC state bird & flag), standing on a combined Carolina single territory image. I take this as a nod to our Carolina Cousins to the North, although it may have been a designer error! 🙂
The Carolinas top-bottom: North Carolina, South Carolina
please note: scroll/read to the end to discover who won the giveaway.
Robert Redford – August 18, 1936 – September 16, 2025 movie star, director, producer and film champion, heartthrob, environmentalist, philanthropist, family man, political activist, person of consequence and (he)artistic everyman
Movie star, director, producer and film champion
Most are acquainted with these aspects of Robert Redford’s legacy. I’ve seen most of his commercial movies close to their release dates on the big screen and enjoyed 90% of them. I’ve seen a few Sundance films and love the vibe of the whole festival. Here I’ll just highlight a few of my fav commercial movies from the RollingStone article, Robert Redford: 20 Essential Movies. note: hover over the arrow and click for more
Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid
released in 1969 – I saw this on the big screen at the Boulder Theater in 1970. Let the adventures & heartthrobs, begin!
Downhill Racer
released in 1969 – I saw this for free at the Chautauqua Theater summer film series in 1970 as a concessions worker! Of course, this attracted a large local following due to its relatable Colorado skiing vibe.
Jeremiah Johnson
released in 1972 – I love this movie because Dad loved this movie. One of Dad’s favorite Mountain Man Adventures that we saw together as a family on the big screen at the Boulder Theater.
All the President’s Men
released in 1976 – Based on the non-fiction book by Bernstein & Woodward, the two journalists investigating the Watergate Scandal for the Washington Post during the Nixon presidency. Of note: in 2010, this film was selected for preservation in the US National Film Registry by the Library of Congress as being “culturally, historically, or aesthetically significant.” Let’s hope it stays there.
The Horse Whisperer
released in 1998 – The scenery, subject matter and silence were seminal. In fact, the silence in the movie house ( a large commercial movie theater) was as silent as the movie itself – novel concept these days, eh? I saw this on Date Night with hubby, leaving our 3 kids with a babysitter for the evening.
The Old Man and the Gun
released in 2018 – On my list of films to watch!
Heartthrob
Let me tell you, I didn’t usually go for the blonde & blue. Growing up, I much preferred Dino (blueblack/blackbrown, plus he felt like family) to Frankie (light brown/blue).
Even back in my preteen days of watching The Man From U.N.C.L.E on TV I chose Napoleon Solo over Ilya Kuryakin…even if Ilya was more youthful.
Of even greater significance is that my longstanding Beatle of choice has always been a toss up between George & John. Well, truth be told, I loved all four of them!
During my later college years, Billy Dee Williams as Brian Walker in Mahogany, and as Lando Calrissian in Star Wars was it for me. But in between all of that, when Newman & Redford hit the big screen with Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, I knew Redford was the ‘best’.*
Of course, looks aren’t everything…
So when my middle daughter called to say she saw that RR had passed away, she noted at the end, “I’m sorry, Ma. I know he was your heartthrob”. Geez, was it that obvious?!
Environmentalist, philanthropist, family man, political activist
I can’t speak to the family man aspect of his life, but in reading various articles it becomes clear how much family life informed his career and life focus. That said, below is a good example of thoughtful consideration of current issues with his trademark pointed yet mellow activist attitude.
“Journalism is what keeps politics straight. Is politics telling the truth or not, you know, and very often politics doesn’t tell the truth. It just tells a story that’s being told by one side or the other. But it’s journalism that gets to the bottom line and says, wait a minute, we’re hearing this, we’re hearing that, but what’s the truth? You know I think we’re into that now.”
Robert Redford, circa 2017
Person of consequence and (he)artistic everyman
Okay, here’s where there’s a bit of a stretch of these attributes as applied to my personal story…
Once upon a time, during my freshman year at CU Boulder, I learned the Legend of Robert Redford - a former student who got wrapped up in the party scene and got himself expelled from the University. Of course, the fact that he went on to 'find himself' backpacking through Europe and emerged a creatively contributing member of society only served to reinforce the pull to do the 'drop out' thing for countless others of my generation. Of which I thankfully didn't succumb. Though I still yearn for my personal Camino Adventure!
Over the years, “The Sink” added this mural to honor their Star Janitor
Somewhere along the line I ventured deep into the nooks and crannies of "The Sink" on the Hill intent on searching out his autograph/comment on its graffiti laden walls. Meh. Not much to look at, but I can say I saw it in its original form. Nay, I can say I touched the space he wrote upon! 😍 As a rite of passage, I even took my middle daughter to view the graffiti wall her senior year in High School. The Legend lives on.
*at the time, the question was routinely posed: who’s the most handsome/best actor – Newman or Redford?
As promised, the winner of the “When Things Go Missing” giveaway is hereby officially announced: Tierney! Congrats – your book is in the snail mail. Thanks to everyone who showed such enthusiastic interest in Deborah’s debut novel.
“The news broadcasts cover the dark side of humanity, the nasty, ugly, tough, brutal behaviors of some and I need to know that this is going on. But I also seek antidotes to this dark side, I look for the beauty inherent in nature. As I look atmy photographsof this sculpture*, I am reminded of the beauty of most of the people I know, but also know that this beauty is delicate. I (we) need to nurture this beauty in others so it can flourish.”
*Utopia by Jaume Plensa (installed at the Frederik Meijer Gardens & Sculpture Park, Grand Rapids, MI)
Pat, blogger & photographer
“We need to nurture this beauty in others so it can flourish.”
While many are experiencing extreme weather across the country, our little corner of the world offered up a few perfect days.
My favorite type of day, in fact. Stiff breezes delivering crisp air and enhanced sharpness to the slanty-rays of daytime sunshine…
I’m a happy camper!
While many have detailed their goals in a manner worthy of the New Year, I have been floundering in my own Sea of Lists.
Until…
A poem found me. Its truth offered a starting point. Its truth offered freedom to just begin.
New Year Poem (excerpts) May Sarton
Let us step outside for a moment As the sun breaks through clouds And shines on wet newfallen snow, And breathe the new air. So much has died that had to die this year.
We are dying away from things. It is a necessity – we have to do it Or we shall be buried under the magazines, The too many clothes, the too much food. We have dragged it all around Like dung beetles…
…Let us step outside for a moment Among oceans, clouds, a white field, Islands floating in the distance. They have always been there. But we have not been there…
…Let us step outside for a moment. It is all there Only we have been slow to arrive At a way of seeing it. Unless the gentle inherit the earth There will be no earth.
In between getting ready for this coming week of teaching, prepping for a trip back to the Mayo for my hubby’s 6 week post-surgical re-check*, working on a baby quilt for one of my younger cousin’s new arrival, figuring out various details of unexpected commitments – and normal outloud living – I leaned into the ‘perfect day’ call to bake.
Remember to occasionally indulge all your senses with the simple act of baking.
Above all else, guard your heart, for it is the wellspring of life.
Proverbs 4:23
It’s been quite the year, hasn’t it?
Played against the backdrop loop of escalating violence, senseless shootings, climate catastrophes, wars, heartbreaking stories of real people – multitudes – changed forever due to man’s inhumanity towards man. It’s difficult to not get overwhelmed.
And yet.
I am:
Learning to accept That all hungers cannot be fed, That saving the world May be a matter Of sowing a seed Not overturning a tyrant, That we do what we can.
The moment of vision, The seizure still makes Its relentless demands:
Work, love, be silent. Speak.
The house of gathering (poem excerpt) – May Sarton circa 1988
I’ve been quiet of late. Not by choice. I’ve sat numerous times at the keyboard or with pen in hand struggling to put into words all that is streaming within my mind and heart to no avail.
But now as 2023 nears completion, I find it easier to recount certain of those events and revelations which occurred during the past year rather than as they wereoccurring!
Part of my year’s journey included the above ‘revelation’ which clearly set me up for greater freedom in living my ‘everyday life’.
That said, I hope to compile a ‘part two’ followup post which will highlight some of those ‘events & revelations’…but then, maybe not! 🙂
Over the course of a long love story, what was once a single ‘our song’ becomes a whole playlist of songs. Marking myriad events in the ups, downs; ebbs, flows; crushing sorrows, magnificent joys; everyday living out of our love & life in this world hand-in-hand and in His Hands.
Here then, is one such song released in August, 1983 and added at that same time to our playlist during a particularly defining event that occurred early on in our life path together.
The year was 1983.
We were renting the bottom unit in a quadplex in the heart of the Silicon Valley – San Jose, CA. Hubby pursuing the dream of working for the hottest tech company of the time, Hewlett Packard.
Me? Living life in the Bay area as a new stay-at-home-college-educated Mom of a one-year-old and precariously on track with our fourth pregnancy.
A seemingly viable one after a rocky reproductive history of 2 previous miscarriages: one around 15 weeks (twins) and later, an early ectopic pregnancy that spontaneously resolved itself. Nestled between those, our much wanted beloved daughter, Hava was born!
Over the course of this latest pregnancy at 5 months gestation, the increasingly troublesome eye blind-spot symptoms I was experiencing could no longer be ignored. At the end of my eye exam, the optometrist explained that he ‘could not be responsible for me’ and felt he couldn’t tell me his suspicions on the cause of my blind spots. (Yes, he was an odd duck) Instead, he promptly picked up the phone and scheduled an appointment for me with a neurologist colleague ASAP.
Thus began the whirlwind of expedient & lengthy testing.
Of course, the neurologist explained further concerns at the next day’s appointment. It appears my symptoms suggested two possible diagnoses:
Neither a good choice or something to hope for. But we prayed for the best along with a miraculous intervention.
Apparently, Pituitary Gland Brain Tumors grow exponentially & rapidly if the patient is pregnant – hence the haste with which these medical professionals carried out their testing and treatment plans.
I underwent numerous tests that lasted hours over a two day period prior to an impending operation date within 10-14 days. It was assumed I had the tumor and several tests substantiated those assumptions.
Between sessions, I talked with my OB-GYN to make sure that the scheduled CAT scans (MRIs weren’t readily available at that time) wouldn’t hurt the new life growing inside me.
They wouldn’t.
Further, the doctor spent time patiently answering my flood of ‘what if’ and ‘what about’ questions – mostly focused on how to protect my unborn child from harm during possible brain surgery.
And you know what? My OB-GYN made a point of letting me know that prenatal care is as much for the care of the mother (me) as for the baby! He was there for me, too. Every step of the way.
A few days before the looming ‘possible’ brain surgery was to be performed, the latest CAT scans baffled the medical staff. The original tumor dot cluster seemingly disappeared!
But we knew it was our ‘miraculous intervention!’
Even the neurologist said it was unexplainable (often their way of acknowledging a miracle of sorts).
So they cancelled the immediate mandate to operate post haste.
That left us with diagnosis #2 … which at the time was only confirmed via a spinal tap. I asked if we could postpone that until after the baby was born and/or indefinitely and was told, “Yes”.
Relief. We’d deal with it later, if at all.
Now we could celebrate and enjoy getting ready for our new arrival.
Aside from periodic monitoring with a world renown Neuro-ophthalmologist* at Stanford, I ultimately ended up with a clean slate.
Sadly, I miscarried again**, this time at 6 months gestation.
But the Lord has been my (our) stronghold, And my (our) God the rock of my (our) refuge.
Psalm 94:22 NASB
*there’s an hilarious story that goes with our visit with this doctor, but isn’t quite in line with the focus of this post – perhaps another time it will be told!
**for completion’s sake, we went through 4 more pregnancies, resulting in 2 more live births (middle daughter and youngest son) but losing 2 more babies at 12 weeks gestation each. In total, 9 babies, with 3 live births. All wanted. All beloved.
Love, Harp Guitars, Oatmeal Scotchies…and back again to love.
February is the love month.
You know, the 14th is St Valentine’s Day and all of that.
In our family, holiday celebrations often last longer than the actual 24-hour day. Hence, here it is a few days after the 14th and yes, hubby and I are still enjoying the love month.
What’s that got to do with harp guitars and cookies? Bear with me. I’m in one of those ‘everything’s interconnected’ type of mind right now.
I remember when I saw my first harp guitar.
It was hanging on a wall at McCabe’s in Santa Monica, CA.
The same time and place where I strummed that special resonator hubby encouraged me to get, but I declined.
McCabe’s is a wonderous place. Museum-like with vintage stringed instruments hanging on walls in rooms filled with bookcases of sheet music and racks of pick-me-up-and-try-me instruments for sale. Bustling with the local musician community of both the vintage and newbie type, too.
Scroll up to 2020/2021.
I found an orchestra made up entirely of harp guitars playing The Water Is Wide in a virtual performance on-line.
It touched me deeply while in the midst of ‘lockdown’.
A folk song of Scottish origin…
…which brings me to the oatmeal scotchies.
Get it? 🙂
Every so often, I get a hankering for something butterscotchey. Simply popping a Werther’s wasn’t going to satisfy this time around. So, the handful of butterscotch baking chips I had leftover from who knows how long ago, got baked up recently in a batch of oatmeal scotchies.
The recipe (on the back of the chip package) calls for 1 2/3 cup of those chips, but I had to supplement them with leftover choco chips and walnuts to come to the 1 2/3 cup requirement. Along with my normal adjustments on commercial cookie recipes – replacing the flour, baking powder/soda and some of the salt with self-rising flour and swapping out ½ cup of the 1 cup of butter with ½ cup of Crisco – I also decided to continue adjusting the recipe by replacing ½ t of the 1 t vanilla with ½ t orange extract.
Yeah, that’s how I follow a recipe.
However, believe me, those cookies turned out fresher & brighter because of that vanilla-orange combo.
The water is wide I cannot get over Neither have I wings to fly Give me a boat that can carry two And both shall row, my love and I
I’m just doing the doing. More some days than others. A steady doing of doing that is mostly mindful, often delightful, surprisingly productive and always so very daily.
Hubby and I took on several home improvement projects since buying our little rental home October 2021.
Doing needful maintenance the landlord avoided doing – even when we volunteered to do certain necessary items.
Doing homey stuff the landlord didn’t allow us to do – even if it enhanced aesthetics such as hanging plants on the front porch or planting flower gardens.
Now that we’re homeowners again, we’ve been busy.
Terry on roof Spring 2022
From power washing the vinyl siding, to cleaning the gutters in the Spring & Fall, to planting/hanging porch plants and garden areas, to sanding, sealing, repainting said porches, stairs & railings, to replacing the crummy kitchen countertops, sink & oven fan/hood, repainting said kitchen, changing out all electrical outlets/switches & updating some electrical issues, to installing new, working ceiling fans/lights in the kitchen, Living Room, Master Bedroom and hubby’s office, to replacing the flimsy flusher pixie toilet in the hall bathroom…and more.
All without breaking the bank or dumping too much money into the place from an investment point of view.
Here are a few snaps of just one of the many projects begun & completed as mentioned above – before & during prep of the kitchen (notice new hood in last photo):
Who knew we’d ever be able to afford granite in our modest home? When we ordered new counter tops, it was during a small window of time when supply of cheaper laminates were limited and granite actually was only a few hundred dollars more to buy & install!
BTW: this phone video is titled, “Glee over our Granite!”
If you listen closely to this vid, you’ll hear my signature laugh against hubby joking with the sales lady speaking in a typical South Carolina accent.
Lookin’ good even before we re-painted the walls (Sherwin Williams ‘Greek Villa’) and installed the new electrical plates/outlets/switches. FYI: the kitchen is done, but I have no final photos to show here – I’ve been too busy baking & cooking up a storm and making foodie & coffee messes!
I guess we have been busy.
Our lives have certainly been enhanced by the doing.
Plus, we get to enjoy the fruits of our labor and share it with our kiddos over Christmas Holidaythis year. Our first time to host (for various reasons) in about 6 years.
