The Silver Lining

During the month of November, I've tried to select one thing each day and give thanks for it.  The last two posts have shared some of those.  This is my third "Thankfulness" post.   I am thankful for things my daddy taught me.  Again, I could spend a year telling you why I am thankful for my daddy, but I’ll just focus on a few things I learned from him.  His love, work ethic, and sense of fairness have been a guiding beacon for my life.  He has always looked out for folks who were less fortunate than we were.  I remember him making “care packages” to send to a young man who was in training school and couldn’t be with his family at Christmas.  He taught me how to use a hammer, drill, power saw, screwdriver, and paintbrush.  I learned exactly where to put 5 water jars around every brooder in the chicken house (Becky, stop laughing!) and how to check to make sure they were level so they wouldn’t leak all the water out. I learned that I’d better not come out in a skirt

During the month of November, I've been posting "thankful" posts each day of November.  Here are the posts from November 11-20.   I am thankful for sunshine.  Early dawn mornings, when the eastern sky begins to lighten from nighttime to gray, I know that soon the sun will cast its first brilliant beams into the world, bringing all the colors with it.  On chilly days, I love to find a sunny spot so I can feel the warmth upon my skin.   The sunshine hits the trees; in the vaults of my mind I recall an elementary school science lesson about photosynthesis, where I realized that the sunshine and trees were directly related to the fresh air I can breathe.  Even on “bad” or unhappy days, the sunshine reminds me that brighter days are ahead.  Yes, today I am thankful for sunshine. I am thankful for freedom.  Today we honor our US Veterans for their sacrifices to win and keep our national freedom.  I never experienced military life but I very much appreciate the freedom

Thanksgiving is in November, so I am writing 30 days of Thankfulness.  Here is Part 1. November 1 I am thankful for beautiful colors. I see the reds and golds in the autumn trees; the pines remain a cool green. The skies above are blue, sometimes gray, sometimes a mixture. Early mornings are pink and yellow; sunsets are purple, orange, and mauve. The nighttime sky is black with sparkling pin-dot stars. Yes, today I am thankful for colors. November 2 I am thankful for rain.  Gently falling, quenching parched plants and trees, soaking into the earth. Stormy torrents, blowing in sheets across, filling the gullies, creating rivulets that cascade into the streams and lakes.  Rain is the life-blood or our planet.  Yes, today I am thankful for rain. November 3 I am thankful for music.  Nature’s symphony of birds, insects, and animals serenade me as I walk down the tree-lined street.  Later, I smile to the familiar words and tunes by my favorite singers like Van Morrison, Mary

Halloween conjures visions of jack-o-lanterns, costumes, and candy!  Children’s voices chiming “TRICK OR TREAT!” never fails to make me smile! Mom or dad would bring home a big orange pumpkin and we’d decide if we wanted a smiling face or a scary one – usually I wanted a smile.  I remember spreading newspapers out on the front steps so we wouldn’t make a mess, then daddy would start carving the face in the pumpkin with a big knife.  Mama would affix a candle to an old mayonnaise jar lid so it would stand level inside the jack-o-lantern.  I loved lighting the candle to bring our jack-o-lantern to life – and the smell of the candle scorching the inside of the pumpkin still makes the magic of the season seem real. I am fairly certain that my first Halloween costume was a ghost.  I recall my mom tossing a big white sheet over my head, then letting it settle around my feet.  She cautioned me to stand still while she took a crayon and marked where to cut the eyes.  The 1960 edition of m

How like the autumn is my life. Throughout the hot sultry days of summer, the trees worked tireless providing shade, offering shelter, converting carbon dioxide into oxygen. Now refreshing cool breezes kiss the trees and they relax. They trade their green uniforms for garments of scarlet, gold, burgundy, and orange. Perhaps they feel more comfortable wearing their true colors. One by one, the leaves relax, retire, and flutter away like snowflakes in a swirl of delight. The air feels less oppressive, the sunlight feels less harsh. The time, though shorter and fleeting, feels gentler. How like the autumn is my life.

Kite was excited, ready to fly.  The wind was just right, a brisk and steady breeze in the warm air.  Kite checked his ribs, they were strong and sturdy.  His covering was tight and ready to catch the air to give him just the right lift.  And he was particularly proud of his beautiful tail, made of colorful bits of fabric tied in bright bows to add some stability in the wind and assure that Kite could be seen even when he was waaaay high up in the air. “C’mon, String!  Shake a leg, let’s go flying!” String was plain, sturdy, no nonsense, strong.  She cautioned Kite – “Let’s be sure we’re tied together tightly.”  Kite rolled his eyes, String could be such a drag sometimes, always wanting to be cautious and careful.  But he allowed String time to get herself connected and tightly secure. After a running start, Kite felt himself being lifted with the wind.  He was FLYING!  String was quietly doing her job, extending herself into the atmosphere along with Kite.  She unrolled a

This morning at church, a friend said to me, “Every time I see you, you have a smile on your face!”  My immediate response was, “Well, I live in Paradise, so why not smile?”  And while that is the truth, it really goes much deeper than that.  I smile because I’m happy with life. But this happiness is more than a physical state of being – it’s also a mental and emotional place.  I’ve long believed that happiness is a choice; one can choose to view things from an optimistic or pessimistic point of view.  I believe my natural view is that of optimism. Years of stress eroded that natural state. Worrying about things I could not control robbed me of the ability to “see the bright side” for a long while.  It was like I walked around inside a shroud woven from fretful thoughts and worries.  And while I could shake of some of it, unwrap the shroud a bit – it’s only been lately that I’ve been able to drop it completely. How did that happen?  It's an ongoing process o

Today was an unusually warm day for mid-January. Taking advantage of this rare event, we unhitched the pontoon and eased it out into the cove.  A light breeze over the cool water made the ride a bit chilly; I wrapped up in a beach towel as we headed out to the “big water.” Wispy clouds streaked across the skies.  Here and there, folks spent the day cleaning yards and raking leaves.  Smoke curled up from brush fires, caught the breeze, and began lying low over the water.  The water was dotted with flocks of seagulls – I suppose they were on vacation at the lake.  Steering the boat directly into the birds, we watched as the birds ascended into flight as we got near them.  Hundreds of gulls were wheeling and gliding above us, or floating in the water directly in front and behind us.  We continued our journey across the lake.  Nearing the shore, we saw a lone bird soaring above the pine trees.  His white head and tail gleamed like silver in the sunlight – a bald eagle!  H