Take Time [David’s blog on Not So Flawed Wednesday]

“Take time to see the quiet miracles that seek no attention.” ~ John O’Donohue

We donned our heavy vests, stepped into our Uggs and winter boots, pulled the Adirondack chairs into the spot of sun bathing the edge of the patio. The house served to block the chill breeze, more winter than spring. Like sinking into a warm soothing bath after a hard day’s labor, we sank into our chairs, faces to the sun, moaned. The rays of the sun reached all the way to our bones. We’d dreamed of this moment for months and the reality was so much better than our imagining.

Those same rays are calling forth the wild geranium at the base of Barney, the piano. The day lilies are reaching through the crusty soil and dead leaves. The bunny is again in residence though this time her nest is beneath the deck. Dogga’s nose relentlessly investigates her trail but he has yet to catch a sight of her. We keep a watchful eye for the appearance of her babies.

The squirrels empty the bird feeder in a matter of hours. They are incredible acrobats, ninjas. Were I a jewel-thief-in-the-movies I would study squirrels. The birds gather at the base of the feeder pecking the leftovers from the squirrel raid. “It should be the other way around,” I say. “Birds at the feeder, squirrels at the base.”

“Will you refill it anyway,” she asks, already knowing my answer. I smile. The order of things is of no concern to her. She delights in the critter antics no matter how they play out in the yard.

She squeezes my hand. Small miracles abound. I settle back into my sun-warmed chair grateful that we take time to see them.

read Kerri’s blogpost about SUN IN THE YARD

share. like. support. subscribe. comment. thank you.

Say The Word [on Two Artists Tuesday]

“In the realm of ideas, everything depends upon enthusiasm…in the real world all rests on perseverance.” ~ Goethe

To outside eyes it looks like a small stack of plastic Adirondack chairs. To our eyes, it is a marker of something almost unimaginable to us during these past few years: stable ground.

If you want to know what these semi-cheap plastic chairs represent to us, look no further than the movie Gravity. Sandra Bullock in space in a story of “if it can go wrong, it will go wrong.” Through a rolling series of disasters peppered with just-in-the-knick-of-time hand-holds, against all odds, she splashes down to earth, safe. She stands on a beach, shaky legs. For the first time in a seeming eternity: stable ground.

Perseverance is a word used after the fact. During the free fall to earth, nothing feels even remotely like tenacity. Survival-mode does not allow for meaningful reflection or personal congratulations. Look for anything to grab to stop the fall. Believe that the ghost of George Clooney will crawl into the space capsule with a kick-in-the-butt speech at the very moment when giving up seems like the only option.

“There’s always another option,” we told ourselves. There’s always another step to take. Any step. There must be…

During our free fall we sat on our back deck in our broken white, cracking-and-en-route-to-collapsing plastic Adirondack chairs. We felt the sun on our faces. We talked of appreciating our moments. We encouraged and affirmed each other when “hope” was a word that made us roll our eyes and laugh-out-loud.

Last week, in a daring gesture of new times, we bought (on sale!) six black Adirondack chairs. Six! For friends to sit in when they come to visit. A statement of “hope” during a season of pandemic.

Yesterday we sat for the first time in two of our new chairs, faces in the sun, appreciating our moment. And, for the first time in three years, we dared utter the word “perseverance.” Shaky legs. Stable ground.

read Kerri’s blogpost about NEW CHAIRS