Saturday Slight

Hard to believe that the above photos depict the local scene for late December.  

How often do I rake up debris on the lawn in late December?  Probably never.  

Usually a shovel with serve as my tool of choice during this month.  The rake has been stored away for the winter. 

I don't expect to pull out the lawnmower just yet, but it's still pretty amazing to do yard work during this time of year. 

Today the blah green grass is covered with a thin layer of slushy snow. 

It's definitely been a less than stellar fulfillment of the usual "white Christmas" expectations, but the weather has not dampened the fun of this holiday season. 

We enjoyed even more fun last night doing some catching up with Niece Laura and her daughter Iusitina.  

They had spent the afternoon with their relatives on the "outlaw aka Thompson" side of the family fulfilling the Norwegian roots by making lefsa.

When that production ended, they joined us before celebrating a birthday dinner with Laura's cousin JT. 

Today is Laura's birthday, so we'll give her a shout-out. 

It was especially fun last night hearing Iusitina's observations of her experiences teaching at a school with a Waldorf-Montessori blend.

Her enthusiasm and passion for what she is doing and the fun she's having opening up the worlds of young students are downright infectious. 

Of course, we family teacher-types are proud that she has found the same vocation we all loved. 

Today feels bittersweet.  Annie will leave soon for Spokane to catch her flight back to Seattle. 

It has been a wonderful visit, and we will hate to see her go.  Thanks, Annie for everything.  

I promise you that I'll complete my assignment.  

Bill will drop Annie off at the airport and then attend the Gonzaga women's game.  

I'll be attending a funeral today when good bye's are said to Geneva, the matriarch of the Meserve Preserve next door. 

Stan and Geneva (she's originally from North Dakota) grew up in this neighborhood and later married and lived on the beautiful land next door for more than 60 years. 

We have thoroughly enjoyed the relationship and friendship with the family since becoming their next-door neighbors 18 years ago. 

Good folks, all of them. 

RIP, Geneva. 

~~~~~

There is also a ZAGS men's game today, which I'll record and watch later. 

Big matchup with the Bulldogs taking on the Bruins of UCLA in Los Angeles. 

Game time:  1 p.m.

TV:  Fox Sports - 28

GO, ZAGS!   

Annie, Laura, Bill in front; Marianne and Iusitina, back. 

💜💚💙💓💖💜

Below:  some sensible ideas to consider for carrying on with life in the new year or actually at any time. 

This information appeared in today's New York Times morning newsletter. 

 “We are all juggling so many balls. 

Differentiate between glass balls and rubber balls — and don’t be afraid to drop the rubber balls.”

Everyone with whom I shared this little gem seemed to find it useful (or maybe they were humoring me?). 

I’m not sure why this particular advice stuck with me — really, it’s just saying “learn to prioritize,” a colorful riff on “don’t sweat the small stuff.” 

For whatever reason, picturing the messy, ungovernable realm of worries and to-dos as rubber and glass balls helped me think more clearly in times of stress.

From the editor of the New York Times Morning Newsletter and, below, other ideas submitted for the feature. 

Even one step a day gets you 365 steps farther in a year. — Andie Daniels, Charlottesville, Va.

Stop thinking about your problems and make someone else happy. — Sonja Jewell, Leesburg, Va.

The only time you should look in someone else’s bowl is to see if they have enough. — Jess Wehmeier, Indianapolis

Retire as soon as you can. Time will always be your most valuable asset. — Julie Drew, Akron, Ohio

Does it need to be said? Does it need to be said by me? Does it need to be said by me, now? — Astrid Moresco, Fort Collins, Colo.

Sometimes the greatest act of kindness is to pretend you haven’t already heard that story before. — Sarah Schroeder, Grosse Pointe Woods, Mich.

Do something today your tomorrow self will thank you for. 

— Ava Shaffer, Cincinnati