Easter Blessings

 

🐣🐣From our home to yours, wherever you happen to be, wishing you joy and peace and good memories on this Easter Day. 🐤🐤

Saturday Slight

I guess I jumped ahead of myself yesterday while proclaiming that we were going to warm up and that I would probably remove the blankets from the horses. 

Let's see.  Did it warm up?  

Not really.   A biting wind made high 40s seem like mid-30s. 

Twasn't warm, and the blankets stayed on the horses. 

But it was dry, and that meant some outdoor projects were completed. 

I even mowed twigs.  The lawn was covered with them from the last couple of wind events.

 

There are many more to be mowed, but they are in places which are still pretty soggy. 

Nonetheless, the lawn is greening up and looking much better. 

Maybe I can mow some more twigs today, and maybe I'll remove the blankets from the horses today. 

The morning is stunning with a beautiful sun-up and numerous species of birds melodiously making their presence known. 

I think we'll have no problem enjoying this day. 

On one of my indoor attempts to stay warm yesterday, I enjoyed and appreciated this brilliant writer's perspective while reading it on my sister-in-law Mary's Facebook feed. 

I liked it so much that I thought it was worth sharing.

 

by Anne Lamott

SORT OF GOOD FRIDAY, an old, updated piece:

There is the most ancient of sorrows in the world again, scores of dead children, young soldiers sacrificed by madmen. 

None of us knows quite what to make of things, or what to do. We praying people pray for the innocent. Some of us pray for impeachment, but we will have to wait till the midterms, seven months from now, and not to lose our minds in the meantime.

We pay attention to life, so we can see that there is just as much messy mercy, goodness and grace going on. It's the song that never ends. Even amid the evil, the smashing and crashing and terrible silences, the trees are all in blossom, and it’s soft and warm and bright. Spring is pushing through.

What are you supposed to do, when what is happening can’t be? When it’s all too scary and weirdly fascinating and grim, and the old rules no longer apply?

We keep hobbling forward. All we can do someday is the next right thing. I keep remembering an old Xeroxed photo of Koko the signing gorilla, with a caption beneath it that read, “The law of the American jungle: Remain calm, share your bananas.” That’s what we do — ache, love, march, donate, stay calm, share our bananas.

I asked a hopeless friend recently, “What story would help you most? A story about God? A nice story about quirky miracles?”

“No, thank you,” she said. “I’d like to hear the story about how we don’t know what’s going to happen, and how it all sucks, and that we are scared to death, and we don’t know how we’re going to get through it.”

Like her, I am sometimes depressed and furious and grief-stricken these days. I often feel like someone from the Book of Lamentations, or a tense, abandoned puppy to whom someone has given LSD. The marches really help. So do walks on the mountain. So do the pets, my furry little psyche nurses.

The Christian writer Barbara Johnson said that we’re Easter people, living in a Good Friday world. The problem is, I’m not really one of those Christians who has the right personality for Good Friday, for the crucifixion part. 

The resurrection isn’t for two more days. Your mind tells you that it could all be a trick — crucifixion Friday, descent into hell Saturday, colonoscopy Sunday. 

But I do believe. 

The trees, so sticklike and gray last month, suddenly went up, as in flame, but in blossoms and leaves — poof! Like someone suddenly opening an umbrella.

I am going to pray and work for this nation to resurrect, so our leaders want to be a part of the human family again. 

Stephen Miller is family. God loves him exactly the same as God loves babies. I hate this. But that is the mystery of grace. God loves, period. Miller is a dangerous member of the family, worse than a Klansman but I would not let him starve, That’s the best I can do right now. 

Maybe at some point, later, briefly, I will feel a flicker of something more. Possibly not. Let me get back to you on this.

I am going to try to pay attention to the spring. I am going to look around at all the flowers, and look up at the hectic trees. I am going to close my eyes and listen.

 One Sunday my pastor asked the kids to close their eyes for a moment and listen. After a while, she asked them what they heard. 

They heard birds, and radios, dogs barking, cars, and then one small boy said, “I hear the water at the edge of things.” I am going to listen for the water at the edge of things.

I am going to tell my hopeless friend these stories, and remind them of those islanders in the South Pacific where the United States Air Force landed during World War II, to use as a base of operations. 

The islanders loved the Air Force being there, all that loud and blinding light from above, landing in a path of klieg lights on their land. They believed it was divine because there was no other way to understand all this energy. 

And after the Air Force left, they created a fake runway with candles and torches and pyres, to await its return. 

Light!

Let there be light, and let it begin with me. I am going to notice the lights of the earth, the sun and the moon and the stars, the lights of our candles, the lights with which spring teases us, the light that is already present. 

If the present is really all we have, then the present lasts forever. That will be the benediction.

Below:  from a summary in the New York Times Morning Newsletter

 Christina Koch, another of the astronauts on the mission, described the phenomenon [of seeing the Earth from Space]  

“You don’t see borders, you don’t see religious lines, you don’t see political boundaries. 

All you see is Earth and you see that we are way more alike than we are different.”

Let's just call these grocery-store flowers. 

They were mighty pretty yesterday as I drove by with my shopping cart and spent some time admiring them.  

Enjoy the flowers and Happy Saturday. 

Water Color, Etc.

 

After two days of steady rain, this Good Friday looks like a winner, promising warmth and no more wetness for a few days. 

The Earth in our area has certainly received a soaking.  Puddles abound along with more than enough squishy mud. 

I fed the horses in the barn twice yesterday.  When they came home on Tuesday, it was dry.  

Within hours, however, the rain began to fall, and their barnyard is now a muddy mess. 

So, I think they were more than happy to choose the barn over the outdoors for a couple of days.  

They could go outside if they wanted, but on most of my trips outdoors yesterday, all I saw were their faces, standing in stalls inside and watching it rain outside. 

I think they will be happy today, and, more than likely by afternoon, I'll remove their blankets, as we're headed toward the 70s in the next day or so.

What amazing weather for an Easter weekend!

I don't think it rained too much on Bill's birthday parade yesterday.  Gifts in the morning, a telephone visit with his twin sister, a trip to Spokane to pick up Annie and dinner at Mick Duffs topped off by a decadent cake and ice cream (salted caramel) dessert. 

Our immediate family birthdays are taking a break until April 7 when my sister Laurie celebrates a significant milestone (Medicare, anyone?). 

And, so today, Annie is home.  She'll be working remotely and taking breaks to take Foster for walks. 

Bill and I will probably resume our outdoor projects.  The grass is growing, and the lawnmower will probably go into action. 

I'm feeling the endorphins buzzing within and ready to propel me into some springtime action.

 

Yay!

Speaking of "Yay," how about the Artemis Mission!  Bill and I watched the launch and agreed that it reminded us of the space activities in the '60s when we'd tune in, as students, to the various Space activities. 

I agreed with the commentators that it's so nice to have something positive that unites people and injects them with some rare optimism. 

Their accounts of what they've seen and how it affects them are poignant, to say the least. 

Be prepared for delays between questions and answers in the video below. 

A treasure came in the snail mail yesterday from Great Britain. 

I still have a card Lynne Stockman sent me several years ago.  It features a Border Collie. 

Lynne wrote that she went to a garden store where she lives in England, saw the above card and thought of me. 

A lovely surprise in the mail. Like the other card, it too shall stay on display somewhere in this house. 

Lynne was one of my students who graduated from Sandpoint High School in 1980. 

Always witty; always very smart, and definitely thoughtful. 

Thank you, Lynne.  Bill sez we need to get together for lunch or dinner while you are in Sandpoint. 💜

Happy Friday.  

If you're local, enjoy the spring beauty and warmth ahead. 

Rainy Day Delight, Bill; TBT

It was cold and wet and windy yesterday when I went to The Flower Farm for opening day, but the weather was not deterring the customers. 

I grabbed a few pansies to brighten up the place for Annie's visit. 

During my quick visit, I could see that the flowers are beautiful and ready to go to their new homes. 

I think my pansies are pretty happy to live here at the Lovestead, even though they've been pampered into ultra prettiness by Mom and Dad Carlin and the Flower Farm crew of plant nurturers. 

You all must know by now that I love meeting people.  

Well, on a rainy day yesterday, thanks to the flamingo flock, I loved meeting the Weiss family. 

First, Nicole texted me and told me she would be picking up the flamingos. 

She brought her husband Eddy and her daughter Josephine with her. 

How fortunate it was that my horses happened to be home and happy to receive some company. 

While Eddy put flamingos in their jeep, Nicole and I got acquainted.  Then, Nicole, Josephine and Eddy walked over to meet Lily and Lefty. 

Next, we moved on to the house and enjoyed a wonderful get-acquainted visit for nearly an hour.

Twas totally spontaneous but very nice.  

That's what this flamingo flocking will do for people. 

It raises money for a good cause (the local museum), it's a part of Nicole's curriculum for Leadership Sandpoint and it gets people together in a nice and upbeat way. 

Eddie, Nicole and Josephine moved here a couple of years ago from Green Bay, Wisc. Before that, they lived in Germany where Eddy worked as a contractor and Nicole worked for Siemens. 

Eddy has relatives from Evanston, Ill., so he came to America on a regular basis and always wanted to move here. 

Green Bay was nice but no mountains, so Sandpoint and its community feel attracted them. 

They are building their house in Samuels where two kittens have been added to the family, and when the house is completed, more critters will come to be apart of the Weiss family. 

Nice, nice people, and a true pleasure to meet them.

BTW:  they provide some expert service in a niche that benefits from their collective experience with homes and construction.

 

It's Birthday "Bill" week. 

Actually "Willie" is more appropriate for William E. Love III, born April 1, 1977. 

And, Bill totally fits William E. Love, Jr., born April 2, 1950. 

His dad William E. Love went by "Edgar." 

Anyway, Jr. is 76 today, and it looks like, from the photo above, that Willie's special day received some special attention over there on the Oregon Coast. 

Bill told me this morning while opening his present and card that he rather liked being 75 because of its milestone appeal, but he'll settle for 76. 

We'll do some celebrating tonight when Annie arrives home from Seattle for the weekend. 

In the meantime, Happy Birthday to Bill and all those gazillion others I know who are celebrating on this day, especially you, Bill's twin sister Margaret, and Bill's other birthday "twin" and Irish lover, Marcia. 

Quite a day for April chicks to have hatched. 

Thursday Throwbacks:  Assorted images of past moments from my photo library.  Enjoy.

 

A great man and geocaching friend Pat aka Grandpapa left us in March.  He will be missed. 

Below:  Richard Benjamin is an author (Whitopia) and talking head for MSNBC and NPR.  When we were still inducting people into our Lodgepole Society (when the double-trunked tree still stood), Richard, who lives in New York, joined the society. 

I post this photo quite often because it makes me laugh.  

I once belonged to a book group called "Church Ladies,"  mostly Catholics.  These are some of the group. 

Bob Hamilton was a phenomenal journalism instructor at Sandpoint High School.  

I think Cindy, on the right, who just retired from nearly 40 years of jetting around the world reporting on Popes, would agree that he was our mentor.  

Lots of other SHS grads who served on the Cedar Post would agree also. 

Below:  Cousin Sue, I love you!