by jphilo | Apr 26, 2012 | Three Thoughts for Thursday
This week some deeply, deeply disturbing events intruded on life along our little gravel road. Some of them, as my sister-in-law would say, are downright sick and wrong. This week’s three thoughts for Thursday are written in her honor:
- My little brother, three years my junior, turned 53 yesterday. Do the math for both of us, and I think you’ll agree. That many candles on a cake are more than a fire hazard. They’re sick and wrong!
- My clematis, which usually bloom in late May and early June, are flowering already. Yesterday, I wore capris and went barefoot. Last night, we grilled burgers for supper. Pleasant as all this is, one of these days it’ll be pay back time for our good weather. Why? ‘Cause there’s something sick and wrong about summer starting in
April Maypril.
- After completing the first 100 pages of Robert Massie’s new biography, Catherine the Great, I’ve come to a difficult decision. Should I ever be asked to serve as Empress of Russia, I will decline. What with all the court intrigue, conniving, and jealousy, being a princess isn’t nearly as fun as Disney makes it sound. In fact, the behavior and treatment of royalty can be summed up in two words. Sick and wrong!
Need to get what’s sick and wrong in your world off your chest? Leave a comment.
by jphilo | Apr 6, 2012 | Daily Life
For most of the country, March Madness 2012 ended with last weekend’s championship game. For many Iowans, like my husband, the madness ended in the second round when the Iowa State Cyclones, the team that beat the reigning champs in the first round, lost to Kentucky in the second.
But for other Iowans, like me, the March madness continues, not on the basketball court, but in our flowerbeds. This year’s mild weather was mentioned in a previous post, and afterwards spring marched through March like mad. In fact, so unbeleivable was spring’s onslaught that on the last day of the month, I used my camera to make a record of the mad, mad, mad, mad spring of 2012. Crazy stuff, unheard of in Central Iowa. Stuff like
bleeding hearts blooming in March,
along with tulips,
and more tulips,
and violets.
Not to mention buds on the clematis
and the lilacs, too,
rhubarb almost ready to be picked,
and the roses in full leaf.
Only the wild plum tree blossoms, usually the first of the spring flowers to bloom, waited until their usual time to appear.
Surrounded by the many evidences of this mad spring, the plum tree nearly escaped my notice, until the fragrance of the blossoms wafted on the breeze and tickled my nose. A lovely March Madness I pray will rule at our house until the end of May.
by jphilo | May 19, 2010 | Walking Down the Gravel Road
How can my early clematis be blooming already? Sure we’ve had an early spring, but last week was cold again and slowed things down. The peonies put on the brakes, the irises held still, the spirea went into sleep mode for several days, but the clematis? It started blooming.
Let me tell you, the whole deal has me shook up. Why? Because if the early clematis is blooming, and looking quite lovely in the process I have to admit, the others will soon follow. Next will be the light purple blooms of early June and the red and white candy stripe. Before I know it, the dark purple one by the garage will burst into glorious flower, and when that happens, it can mean only one thing.
July.
And we all know what July means at this house. Wedding.
Wedding?
Already?
But the cake hasn’t been ordered, the reception decorations aren’t planned, we’re still negotiating on the Photo Booth, the bridesmaids need their final fittings, friends have to be pressed into service, Anne’s dress needs to be shortened, Hiram and I need to argue about what he’ll wear to the ceremony, and so many other details are swirling around, I can hardly see straight. Except for one thing.
The clematis is blooming…already.
by jphilo | Jun 24, 2008 | Daily Life
Hiram and I planted a candy-striped clematis years ago, when the kids were little. But tje nearby black walnut trees grew along with the clematis. The climbing flower never did as well as we’d hoped as the spot grew shadier, so two or three years ago we moved it. For a while it didn’t do much growing, at least not that we could see. This year, however, it has bloomed copiously for almost three weeks, even though the weather’s been cool and wet.
This morning two new blossoms greeted me when I returned from my walk. Earlier, I had watched two Baltimore orioles, brilliantly marked, fuss on the fence by a cornfield. They were arguing about who got to perch where and for how long. They traded places with one another constantly, each lifting of their wings favoring me with another blazing flash of orange and black. Between the beauty of orioles, who have lived along our gravel road for only the past few years, and the clematis which waited a long time to show its true colors, I felt deeply blessed.
Tomorrow I go to Grand Rapids, Michigan for a speaking seminar. While I’m there, I’ll stay with a published author who is a good friend and mentor. She wants to introduce me to one of her publishers and several other authors. I also will visit the Discovery House Publishers office, where my book has been accepted. They’re even taking me out to dinner.
Some days I pinch myself and wonder if this trip is happening. Is my writing, which I’ve been tending for years, about to bear fruit? Is God going to say this is the year things will take off? Thanks to a couple Baltimore orioles and a candy-striped clematis, I’m prepared to wait for his answers. And whatever the answer is, I will remain deeply blessed.
