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Finding Beauty on this Fantastic Friday

Finding Beauty on this Fantastic Friday

After a frustrating week, I searched my memories for the days' hidden beauties and found them.The red buds are blooming in our neighbor’s ravine again. They are as achingly beautiful as they were at the end of April last year. Twelve months ago I wrote this post, and though I feel better than when this post appeared in April of 2015, the words written in it are as true on this Fantastic Friday as they were then.

Finding Beauty in a Not Very Easy Week

The week just past was not an easy one. Last Sunday, I was finally home for a good long while after months of speaking engagements and Grammy duties, with no book deadlines looming. Don’t get me wrong, all of the above are good–even great and blessed–events. But they were wearying, too, and I naively thought that the week would be devoted to creative activities that rejuvenate me…like finally getting back to poor, patient Jane and her languishing mystery novel. That didn’t happen.

Because I had forgotten that the first several days after being gone
are devoted to catching up on everything that piled up in your absence.
Laundry.
Mail.
Email.
Bills.
Grocery shopping.
Once those were taken care of,
it was  time to respond to people I’d told,
“Contact me a few days after I get back, and I’d be glad to help.”
All that took until Saturday.

Which left me as frustrated as the crazy, two week allergy elimination diet I began on Sunday has been leaving me hungry after every meal. (More on the diet tomorrow.) And I was tired. Bone tired. A wee bit out of shape. And whiny because the weather’s been rainy and cold for days. Something had to be done. So Sunday afternoon, I sat down and racked my memory for the beauty hidden in my not-too-easy week.

Once I started looking, beauty was everywhere,
in the cherry blossoms in our neighbors’ yard,
blossoms left untouched by a nip of frost.
in finding the exact watch Mom wanted to replace her old one at the first store visited.
on the heavenly red bud trees blooming in the ravine along our road.
in the forgiveness of our church Connection Group
when I totally forgot about the potluck we were hosting.

Most beautiful of all,
most heart-breakingly beautiful of all,
in the kindness of staff members interacting with a resident in Mom’s memory care unit,
as they encouraged him, though his mind is dimmed by disease, to play his trombone,
as they hummed the birthday tune to him until the notes brought back his memory,
and he played the tune straight through,
with vibrato
and rhythm
and perfect pitch.
In his fellow residents giving him a rousing round of applause,
and asking him to play it again…
and again…
and again.

A miracle.
A miracle of grace.
A miracle of beauty.
A miracle of unequaled beauty almost overlooked,
though hidden in plain sight,
and waiting eagerly to be found.

And to think,
I almost missed it.

Finding Beauty on this Fantastic Friday

Finding Beauty in a Not Very Easy Week

red budsThe week just past was not an easy one. Last Sunday, I was finally home for a good long while after months of speaking engagements and Grammy duties, with no book deadlines looming. Don’t get me wrong, all of the above are good–even great and blessed–events. But they were wearying, too, and I naively thought that the week would be devoted to creative activities that rejuvenate me…like finally getting back to poor, patient Jane and her languishing mystery novel. That didn’t happen.

Because I had forgotten that the first several days after being gone
are devoted to catching up on everything that piled up in your absence.
Laundry.
Mail.
Email.
Bills.
Grocery shopping.
Once those were taken care of,
it was  time to respond to people I’d told,
“Contact me a few days after I get back, and I’d be glad to help.”
All that took until Saturday.

Which left me as frustrated as the crazy, two week allergy elimination diet I began on Sunday has been leaving me hungry after every meal. (More on the diet tomorrow.) And I was tired. Bone tired. A wee bit out of shape. And whiny because the weather’s been rainy and cold for days. Something had to be done. So Sunday afternoon, I sat down and racked my memory for the beauty hidden in my not-too-easy week.

Once I started looking, beauty was everywhere,
in the cherry blossoms in our neighbors’ yard,
blossoms left untouched by a nip of frost.
in finding the exact watch Mom wanted to replace her old one at the first store visited.
on the heavenly red bud trees blooming in the ravine along our road.
in the forgiveness of our church Connection Group
when I totally forgot about the potluck we were hosting.

Most beautiful of all,
most heart-breakingly beautiful of all,
in the kindness of staff members interacting with a resident in Mom’s memory care unit,
as they encouraged him, though his mind is dimmed by disease, to play his trombone,
as they hummed the birthday tune to him until the notes brought back his memory,
and he played the tune straight through,
with vibrato
and rhythm
and perfect pitch.
In his fellow residents giving him a rousing round of applause,
and asking him to play it again…
and again…
and again.

A miracle.
A miracle of grace.
A miracle of beauty.
A miracle of unequaled beauty almost overlooked,
though hidden in plain sight,
and waiting eagerly to be found.

And to think,
I almost missed it.

Fantastic Friday’s Here…Almost

Fantastic Friday’s Here…Almost

almost columbineToday’s Fantastic Friday post comes from way back in April of 2009. That spring’s weather must have been considerably warmer than this one, since the columbine have not yet made an appearance. The mystery novel mentioned below is a different one than Run, Jane, Run! which is unfortunately not almost done, though I’m almost ready to find time to work on it again. My almost standard of living continues, but the 2009 evening listening to Bill Bryson in the company of my dear friend Cindy was not almost enchanted. It was most definitely a magical evening never to be forgotten.

Almost

It’s almost spring, the calendar says, but the weather’s cold again today. Through the garden debris, the columbine are almost ready to unfurl their leaves. The peony tips are visible, almost pushing through the black dirt.

My life is a reflection of my flower garden. Mom’s house is almost sold, we’ve cleared out almost all it’s contents, and I’ve almost figured out her finances. I’m almost done going through the editor’s suggestions for A Different Dream, the mystery manuscript is almost done, and I’m almost ready for a speaking engagement. My house is almost in order, the bathrooms are almost clean, and I almost have the weekend menu planned.

The problem is, just like spring, I’m stuck at almost. As soon as I almost finish something, something more serious arises and I have abandon what’s almost done to address the other. Almost finished projects are piling up so fast they’re almost drowning me.

All I can do until April 10, when we close on Mom’s house, is make peace with the almosts. My friend came up with a perfect way to do it. We’re going to hear the author Bill Bryson speak at Drake University tonight. He’s a Des Moines native who lives in England and almost never gets back to Iowa. The talk will be an almost perfect ending to an almost winter day in what claims to be spring. And to think, I almost missed the opportunity.

Thanks for inviting me, Cindy.

What almosts are piling up in your life? Leave a comment.

What’s On Your Weekend To Do List?

What’s On Your Weekend To Do List?

Santa To Do list

Today’s the day to share weekend-before-Christmas to do lists. Why? To reassure one another that we’re not the only ones with shopping to do, presents to wrap, and more baking projects than are humanly possible. Therefore, I’m posting my to do list for the world to see and hoping you’ll share yours, too.

Saturday:
✓ Get Christmas letters ready to mail.
✓ Make a birthday cake for a rellie’s party.
✓ Make biscotti for friends, neighbors, church family, and publishers.
✓ Make snacks for the Saturday night church service.
✓ Deliver and mail biscotti.
✓ Figure out how to wrap the man of steel’s Christmas present which is bigger than me.

Sunday:
✓ Go to church and think about the true meaning of Christmas.
✓ Shop for the man of steel’s stocking stuffers…Hello, Kitty duct tape, here I come!
✓ Finish up Mom’s Christmas shopping and gift wrapping.
✓ Attend rellie’s birthday supper and party.

Tag…now you’re it. Leave your weekend-before-Christmas to do list in the comment box!

Photo Credit: www.freedigitalphotos.net

Mystery Update: See Jane Crawl!

Mystery Update: See Jane Crawl!

Little Missouri Fairgrounds

Remember Run, Jane, Run!, the mystery I’m writing? On account of which I road tripped to northwestern South Dakota in September? The one I promised to post updates about on a regular basis? Well here’s the first one. Progress is slow.

Very slow.

My best efforts to carve out chunks of time large to enter the story world and stay there for hours have been stymied at every turn. Partly because of catching up after the trip out west. Partly because of the Camp Dorothy Oktoberfest celebration. Partly because of other writing deadlines. Partly because of an October week in Grand Rapids, Michigan and recovering from it. Partly because of housework and thinking up reasons to avoid dusting. Whatever the reason, progress is slow.

So slow it could be time to rename the book, See Jane Crawl!

The pace won’t pick up anytime soon, since this week is dedicated to much anticipated grandma duty and other family fun, followed by work on a book under contract, followed by the holiday season, followed by…well, you get the idea. Progress is slow.

As slow as driving on gravel roads in northwest South Dakota.

But, that’s no reason to give up. Because the holiday season is followed by January and February, the best months for writers to hunker down, get lost in story world day after day, and write away. But until then…

Crawl, Jane, Crawl!