Posted in Monday Musings

Miles to Go

Hydrangea paniculata

After Forsyth Park Farmers Market-ing Saturday morning, Robert and I were walking home, minding our own business, when out of the blue, the Universe spoke to me again. (A fairly common occurrence these days.)

“It’s the end of October,” I thought. “Isn’t it a little late for hydrangeas to still be blooming?” But glancing up and down the row of bushes, I noticed that all the other hydrangeas were NOT blooming, except for this LONE, stubborn survivor.

I was mesmerized, the bloom just SO very June fresh.

“It’s rude to stare,” she interrupted my thoughts, a bit offended.

“Sorry, I didn’t meant to stare. But I’m floored to see you here when all of your … your brothers and sisters are … are less than alive.” (My awkward attempt to avoid further rudeness.)

“May I ask why you ARE still here?” I timidly wondered.

Her demeanor shifted, and she smiled the tiniest of smiles.

“I suppose you can, but I’ll let Frost answer for me.”

The woods are lovely dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.


“Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening” by Robert Frost

I walked home with lively, renewed fervor in my step.

Posted in Encouragement

Sometimes

Last evening, Robert and I headed over to Big Bon Pizza in the hip Starland District of Savannah. (Being so hip myself, I like going to hip locations. As long as my right hip cooperates.) After voraciously enjoying their WONDERFUL hot-outta-the-brick-oven pizza …

… the Universe spoke to me as I waddled past Big Bon Bodega/Big Bon Pizza’s sandwich board:

An enlightening message I most definitely need to heed much more often!

(Even with the comma issue. 😩 Retired English professor.)

Here’s my mental activity as I continued waddling to the car:

Now isn’t that better?

Wait a second! Halt the waddling! Did I really just proofread and edit THE UNIVERSE?!

Posted in Growing Older, Humor

How to Photograph a Septuagenarian

Now that youth is a far distant memory, and I’m just a couple of months away from turning … from turning … from turning … 70, I’d like to instruct anybody who ever points a camera (well, phone—does anybody use a camera any more ?) in my direction. Here are 10 foolproof suggestions.

1. Take my picture in the snow.

2. Have me get on a giant bed.

3. Let me hold my unicorn.

4. Have me stand on a bridge over troubled waters.

5. Incorporate mirrors.

6. Have me sit in a house with one window.

7. Make the best of focus.

8. Have me sit far away from the paparazzi.

9. Let me hold my big bird.

And 10. Push me in the pool.

There you go. No close-ups. Simple and easy.

**********************

Okay, I’m joking. I love my age and where I am in life.

Posted in Throwback Thursday

Neal‘s Post from the Past: “Merry Autumn”

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Fall is most definitely my favorite season of the year.  Even with its touch of “summer’s over” melancholy, autumn slowly paints the world with warmly joyful colors, smells and scenes.  The season makes me feel energized and ready to start anew (maybe partly because I’m a retired educator and still connect fall to the new school year).

Autumn wants to make us pause and smile.

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Here’s a terrific poem, by late 19th century poet Paul Laurence Dunbar, which shows fall’s happy face.  Read it out loud to feel, as well as see and hear, the words.

Merry Autumn

It’s all a farce,—these tales they tell
About the breezes sighing,
And moans astir o’er field and dell,
Because the year is dying.

Such principles are most absurd,—
I care not who first taught ‘em;
There’s nothing known to beast or bird
To make a solemn autumn.

In solemn times, when grief holds sway
With countenance distressing,
You’ll note the more of black and gray
Will then be used in dressing.

Now purple tints are all around;
The sky is blue and mellow;
And e’en the grasses turn the ground
From modest green to yellow.

The seed burs all with laughter crack
On featherweed and jimson;
And leaves that should be dressed in black
Are all decked out in crimson.

A butterfly goes winging by;
A singing bird comes after;
And Nature, all from earth to sky,
Is bubbling o’er with laughter.

The ripples wimple on the rills,
Like sparkling little lasses;
The sunlight runs along the hills,
And laughs among the grasses.

The earth is just so full of fun
It really can’t contain it;
And streams of mirth so freely run
The heavens seem to rain it.

Don’t talk to me of solemn days
In autumn’s time of splendor,
Because the sun shows fewer rays,
And these grow slant and slender.

Why, it’s the climax of the year,—
The highest time of living!—
Till naturally its bursting cheer
Just melts into thanksgiving.

— by Paul Laurence Dunbar

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Posted in Excerpt from a Fellow Blogger

It’s Past Time to Be Kind

Wondering through Ponce City Market in Atlanta a while back, Robert and I came upon this cool clock display.

We assume we have so, so much time left. Clocks simply full of it. But, do we really know how much we have left? Or what we should be doing with it?

“Oh be swift to love, make haste to be kind.” — Henri Frederic Amiel

It’s Past Time to Be Kind — Robert’s Snap Spot

Robert wrote a neat post about kindness and time. The link above takes you to it.