Just a little wordle using one of my favorite poems.
Happy Friday friends!

You Learn

After a while you learn the subtle difference

Between holding a hand and chaining a soul,

And you learn that love doesn't mean leaning

And company doesn't mean security.

And you begin to learn that kisses aren't contracts

And presents aren't promises,

And you begin to accept your defeats

With your head up and your eyes open

with the grace of a woman, not the grief of a child,

And you learn to build all your roads on today

Because tomorrow's ground is too uncertain for plans

And futures have a way of falling down in mid-flight.

After a while you learn...

That even sunshine burns if you get too much.

so you plant your garden and decorate your own soul,

Instead of waiting for someone to bring you flowers.

And you learn that you really can endure...

That you really are strong

And you really do have worth...

And you learn and learn...

With every good-bye you learn.

by Jorge Luis Borges

translation by Veronica A. Shoffstall

After a family dinner with my parents, siblings and aunt I decided to take a solo walk down at the falls before heading home. Even though the park was crowded it was still quiet except for the rushing of the falls and a few punctuations of children squealing. It was perfect.

Of course I whipped out my camera (aka iPhone) and used the toy camera feature to snap a few shots. 

TWO roads diverged in a yellow wood,

And sorry I could not travel both

And be one traveler, long I stood

And looked down one as far as I could

To where it bent in the undergrowth; 

Then took the other, as just as fair,

And having perhaps the better claim,

Because it was grassy and wanted wear;

Though as for that the passing there

Had worn them really about the same, 

And both that morning equally lay

In leaves no step had trodden black.

Oh, I kept the first for another day!

Yet knowing how way leads on to way,

I doubted if I should ever come back. 

I shall be telling this with a sigh

Somewhere ages and ages hence:

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—

I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference.

When I was in high school I went to Teens For Christ and Young Life. While I attended TFC only occasionally I always looked forward to their newsletters. I have several items clipped and saved still from those days.

This is one of my favorite poems. I read it several times during the season to remind me of the "reason for the season," as the saying goes. I know many people go to church, give food to a food drive, buy a gift off the Angel tree...My hope is that we never feel complacent, that we do these things from the heart and remember that being ready for Christmas happens all year.

Ready for Christmas?
author unknown

"Ready for Christmas," she said with a sigh,
As she gave a last touch to the gifts piled high;
Then wearily sat for a moment and read
Till soon, very soon, she was nodding her head.
Then quickly spoke a voice in her dream,

"Ready for Christmas? What do you mean?
Ready for Christmas, when only last week
You wouldn't acknowledge your friend on the street?
Ready for Christmas, while holding a grudge?
Perhaps you had better let God be the judge.
Why, how can the Christ-child come and abide
In a heart that is selfish and filled with pride?
Ready for Christmas, when only today
A beggar lad came and you turned him away
Without even a smile to show that you cared?
The little he asked - it could have been spared.
Ready for Christmas, You've worked hard it it true,
But just doing the things that you wanted to do.
Ready for Christmas, Your circle's too small.
Why you're not ready for Christmas at all!"

She awoke with a start, and a cry of despair,
"There's so little time, and I've still to prepare!
O Father, forgive me, I see what you mean,
To be ready for means more than a house swept clean!"

Yes, more than the giving of gifts and a tree,
It's the heart swept clean that He wants to see,
A heart that is free from bitterness - sin,
Ready for Christmas - and ready for HIM!

Seven more days my friends. Are you ready?

"Watch the busy spider,
He's as helpful as can be,
Eating insects all day long
Now they won't bite me."

Troy was out cleaning the drain in our driveway and boy-howdy talk about spiders. This guy was quite impressive in size and speed. Slowed down for a picture though. Thank you Mr. Spider.

Funny thing...I HATE spiders. VERY afraid, but they fascinate me (from a distance - lovin' that micro zoom). However, when I was teaching second grade one of my favorite things to teach was the unit on spiders. I think it was the excitement the students had for the subject and that we studied them right before Halloween. So many fun projects and when second graders beam with pride at being able to spell in addition to say, cephalothorax, it melts a teacher's heart!

So, after having taught the whole spider unit I still don't like these creatures, but I feel like I know them better and no longer insist on everyone of them being squished DEAD!

What is a Cat?

Gentle eyes
that see so much,
paws that have
the quiet touch.

Purrs to signal
"all is well"
and show more love
than words can tell.

Graceful movements
touched with pride,
a calming presence
by our side.

A friendship
that will last and grow -
small wonder
why we love them so.
-Author Unknown

Tonight Cheryl and her family are spending their last night with their dear Nalu who is gravely ill and losing his battle to keep his kidneys functioning. As with all people who say they own a cat Cheryl is owned by her dear furry family. And as with the people in our lives our pets hold their own special place in our heart and tonight it is safe to say that there are hearts breaking as I write this.

With tears in my eyes, sympathy and empathy in my heart, I ask for prayers and thoughts sent to Cheryl's family as they transition through this difficult time. As for me, I am remembering Nalu - him watching me through the window as I approach the house and scattering as I get closer, him hiding and finally coming out for some kitty love, waiting patiently for his food, tricking me into thinking I could give him pets and slinking away. Goodbye sweet Nalu you will be missed.

Yesterday Troy and I attended a funeral of a truly fantastic woman, Phyllis. Her service was beautiful, visiting with the family made us feel blessed to have known her and her family. 

Her memorial program was beautiful. It contained a lovely history of her life, a family tree, and this poem that I would like to share.

Tapestry of My Life

I wonder what the other side will be when I have finished weaving all my thread. I do not know the pattern nor the end of this great piece of work which is for me. I only know that I must weave with care the colors that are given to me, day by day, and make of them a fabric firm and true, which will be of service for my fellow man.

Sometimes those colors are so dark and gray I doubt if there will be one line or trace of beauty there. But all at once there comes a thread of gold or rose so deep that there will always be that one bright spot to cherish or to keep and maybe against its ground of darker hue it will be beautiful.

The warp is held in place by the Master's hand. The Master's mind made the design for me; if I but weave the shuttle to and fro and blend the colors just the best I know, perhaps when it is finished, He will say, "Tis good," and lay it on the footstool of His feet.