I’m Usually a Speedy Horse
by Jack Prelutsky
I’m usually a speedy horse,
today I’m very slow.
I’m hardly making headway
as along the road I go.
I’m slower than a tortoise
or a sloth atop a tree-
my rider has decided
that he ought to carry me.
(enjoy the rest of your day, sue)
Though we are moving briskly towards colder weather, a few flowers hang on. The nasturtiums trail over the fences here and wind their way where ever they please. And by doing so, they please us.
be well, denise
I recently attended a catholic memorial service for a dear friend who passed away. While I was completely unfamiliar to the traditions and ceremonies performed during the service I found myself drawn to the prayer passed along to everyone In attendance as a remembrance of how my friend lived her life. I would like to pass it along….perhaps it will resonate with others.
Enjoy and thank you for listening!
Lord, make me an instrument of Your peace. Where there is hatred, let me sow love; where there is injury, pardon; where there is doubt, faith; where there is despair, hope; where there is darkness, light; where there is sadness, joy.
Grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled as to console; to be understood as to understand; to be loved as to love; For it is in giving that we receive; it is in pardoning that we are pardoned; it is in dying that we are born again to eternal life.
In my religious tradition this is the new year, a time for repentance, a time to reflect on the past year, acknowledge the ideas, values, actions one wants to carry forward, and those that one feels remorse over and determines to not repeat. Some find it an odd juxtaposition with autumn and the coming winter but it somehow feels ‘right’ to me (probably in great part because it’s what I grew up with living in the Northern hemisphere.) I like the spirit of reflection, repentance and renewal, the creation of a time in the cycle of the year that ‘allows’ for such an inventory of past actions, thinking about the changes we can make and perhaps the directions we can turn toward.
When we change our direction by only one small compass degree, where we wind up is a very different place through the trajectory of our life.
Enjoy – Debbi
Even though Lena is my fifth grandchild, my third granddaughter, she still has her own special place. She is the fourth generation of mother and daughters. My mother, myself, my daughter and now her daughter. With her name she adds the fifth generation, for she is named after my mothers mother. No matter what road she travels through her life she will always have strong women following behind her. sue (I am also named after two great grandmothers on my mother’s side)
Each night we check the weather forcast ( wunderground weather) to see how far the temperature will drop. Then we begin our nightly ritual of covering all the rows in the garden that we want to try and protect. Swiss chard, winter squash, the last of the cabbage. It’s funny how quickly we go from feeling overwhelmed with the abundance that is being brought in to be preserved ( and secretly wishing for an end in sight), to coveting every last bit of the harvest and going to great lengths to protect it. We know the end of the garden season is near. The food that fills our pantry shelves and freezers will be what remains of our efforts in the garden. So, everyday we try and glean what remains and all that continues to hang on, despite the drop in temperature. A new little zucchini clinging to its vines, a bit more basil that escaped the frost.
My personal theme song as I take a quick hike today….