More than one friend has mentioned … they would not like to live in my head.

There’s far too much noise and confusion. They prefer calmness, instead.

“You drive me to distraction!” I can hear my mother say.

I wasn’t sure where distraction was, but I was too young to drive anyway.

When I’m struck with a wild-haired idea, I always dive in headfirst.

More often than not I soon realize that I should have slept on it first.

I rather enjoy all the chaos. My mind keeps me quite entertained.

I can’t imagine how life would be with a head that isn’t harebrained.

Someone once called me a wit. I assumed they meant I was bright.

My dog said he kind of agreed, but he thought they were only half right.

I’m not able to sing, dance or cook much. My talents are hidden, I guess.

I’ve always loved to play sports… but I get tired so mostly I rest.

If you’re wondering where this is going, your guess is as good as mine.

My half-wittedess just advised me…It hates it when I start to whine.

You might say this is self-deprecating, or think it’s only pretense.

I’m pretty okay either way… I really don’t need common sense.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“I’m only as strong as glass,” she said. “I could break and I might shatter. 

I’m speaking of my body. Of course, my mind is a different matter.”

Broken glass infused with color becomes an artist’s inspiration.

Transformed into a stained glass window… it’s now a stunning creation.

White light passing through a prism releases a full spectrum of colors.

Glass cast aside by some is now deemed magical by others.

Glass can be deceiving. We see many shapes and sizes.

We think we can see through it, but it often will surprise us.

It’s vulnerable to all things that are weightier and strong.

Fragile glass left unprotected won’t be whole for very long.

She said, “I didn’t see it coming. I was broken beyond repair.

I knew I’d never be the same and it filled me with despair.

I saw a ray of light and looked up to see it’s source.

I couldn’t understand, and then I heard the words… ‘Of course’.”

He said, “Of course you’ll never be the same. Not like you were before.

Don’t lay in shattered pieces that you know you can’t restore.” 

“What else can I do?” I asked. Silence met my plea.

 My hand reached for a prism. Of course… His answers came to me. 

Pick up a few good pieces of those scattered all around.

Take the ones infused with character. There are several to be found.

Let the light shine through that prism you are holding in your hands.

Brush off the other broken glass as the new you bravely stands.

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

No matter how we live, we can’t control our lives.

We can’t prepare ourselves for all that might arise.

We might feel like shattered glass, broken for all time…

But we can salvage the good still there, and leave what we must, behind.

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

“You must always be aware,” He said. “Because, of course, I’m always there…”

 

 

We’ve had a lot of rain, recently, and the countryside between Mabank, TX, where we live, and Tyler, TX is springtime beautiful. The clouds add to the spectacular scenery. These shots were all taken from a moving car with my cell phone camera.

They say tomorrow never comes. It really does, you know

Yesterday was just today a few short hours ago.

Time goes by so quickly…You’ve heard that to no end.

Time can be your enemy… or your new best friend.

The best times can be over in the blinking of an eye.

A day can last forever, yet the years seem to fly by.

If something bad is happening, they say this too shall pass.

If the best is yet to come, then…to come… goes way too fast.

So what does one do…while time keeps marching on?

March along right with it, from dawn until new dawn.

As our lives continue and what is… becomes… what was,

It doesn’t seem quite fair that we’re unable to hit pause.

We can save a time and store it, and spend that time again.

And sometimes here and there, we can remember where and when.

Spring means the coming back to life of plants and trees that have been dormant for winter, as well as the birth of new life in the animal world. Given the symbolism of new life and rebirth, it’s only natural to celebrate the resurrection of Jesus at this time of the year.

The naming of the celebration as “Easter” seems to go back to the name of a pre-Christian goddess in England by the name of Eostre. The goddess was celebrated at beginning of  each spring.

Her name is thought to mean “to shine”, therefore Ēostre is seen as a goddess of the dawn.  However it is also thought that Ēastre is the ancient word for “spring”.  There are also links to the name Ēostre and “east”, the direction of the sky where the sun first rises, which gives Ēostre the name “Eastern Star”.

It was only in the 17th century that a German tradition of hares bringing eggs to good children came to be known. Hares and rabbits had a long association with spring seasonal rituals because of their amazing powers of fertility. Eggs, for obvious reasons, represent new life.

When German immigrants settled in Pennsylvania in the 18th and 19th centuries, they brought the Easter bunny and decorated eggs traditions with them. The wild hare became the more docile and domestic, rabbit, in an indication of how the focus began moving toward children, who also represent new life.

When my youngest son was seven, he drew a picture in Sunday school of Jesus riding on a donkey. It was a depiction of Palm Sunday. The caption gave us a clue as to what was to come. It said, “The Lord has Ridden!”

As Christians celebrate Easter this Sunday in commemoration of Jesus’ resurrection, the familiar sights of the Easter bunny and Easter eggs serve as a reminder of the holiday’s very ancient origins outside of the Christian tradition.

I personally think the celebration of the resurrection of Jesus and the symbolism of new life represented by the Easter bunny and colorful Easter eggs, all work together to help us appreciate and celebrate the meaning of Easter Sunday.

Happy Easter everyone…here are a few pictures I took on the way back from Dallas the other day…I was trying to find some wild flowers. If you look closely, you can see some Indian Paintbrush and Blue Bonnets.

I was having this lovely dream about Queen E. the other night, when suddenly, it turned into a nightmare! Take a look!

“Before you curtsey, please say, Timber!!!”

“I love you to the moon and back!”

“Phillip…Does this outfit make me look pink?”

“What? No service?”

“I seem to have misplaced my crown.”

“I’m Angela Landsbury, and no, I didn’t write the Sweet Potato Queen, book.”

“I think I’ll order a double cheeseburger and a large order of sweet potato fries. Ask Burger Queen if twins eat free?”

“Sweet Potato Fries? Really Mother!”

MG says, “I swear I don’t know anything about Sweet Potato Queens, I just work here!”

Lav says, “Eat more Chicken!”

“I must get these BK monkeys off my back. I’m starting to look like a sweet potato!”

It seems that nowadays when our friends all get together,

All we ever talk about is who’s under the weather.

One friend just got well, while two more are feeling sickly.

One is out of surgery…another goes in quickly.

Someone took a fall. Did they break a hip or leg?

Or did they hit their head and now sport a big goose egg?

One had a bad reaction to the medication.

A couple got food poisoning while they were on vacation.

With all the body parts we’ve had removed and/or replaced,

It’s a wonder we’re still standing. Just think of all we’ve faced.

We see doctor after doctor, and drive to and from each day.

And morning, noon and night, we all take time to pray…

That most of our health issues are satisfactorily resolved,

Before all of our children start getting too involved.

If health concerns have now become a constant in our life,

and some of us continue to go under the ol’ knife.

We’ll take care of each other, because we’re all dear friends,

And because we’re in His hands, our fear soon ends.

So live life to the fullest. Eat dessert before your meal.

Go ahead! Buy green bananas! Just don’t slip on a banana peel.

Keep a song in your heart and a smile on your face,

And a friend’s number in your pocket…just in case!

A field of wildflowers (Indian Paintbrush) near our walking trail in Mabank.

I am so sorry!! Remember the blog I wrote about the books I bought at the resource center? The Erma Bombeck book was the only one I had read. I had leafed through the Sweet Potato Queen book, but I only read some of the recipes.

Last night, thinking it might have some cute stories in it, I read a few pages only to find out it’s full of smutty stories. I was horrified and I have been trying to figure out a way to tell you all this. I sure do not want to add fuel to the fire, but I must admit my mistake.

Murdo Girl in no way supports that book or any other book with the sweet potato queens in it, and though I love baked sweet potatoes, I may never eat them again.

Please accept my deepest and most sincere apology. Next time, I will read first.

Learned my lesson,

MG

Well, I’m on my way over to walk Pearl the dog. Pearl and Grace have already gone on to The Busy Nest, which is what Pearl calls her store since she tired of calling it “The Business” and figured the place should have a name. But guess what? Pearl got a new winner of an idea. She was still selling Elixerfixer right along, but she said she needed a new frontier to conquer, so she has expanded her umbrella of services to include weddings. It seemed like the perfect fit and a way to bump up the finances and grow the goodwill in the community at the same time…. and… since Grace was already writing an advice column for the newspaper, Pearl said she could incorporate her advising thoughts and provide before and after marriage counseling. She figured, and rightfully so, that Grace couldn’t cause more marriages not to take hold than the unsolicited advice of people who stick their nose into other people’s marital goings on, and have no practical experience telling people what to do like Grace does.

Some figured the local preachers would be up in arms because they were losing out on some of their congregation’s nuptuals, but they decided to let it ride for July and August. It had been tense at times in June with the church basement cooks and they could use some much needed time off. It was getting overwhelming taking care of funeral food, and wedding receptions, not to mention, Lions ‘s Club and other social functions held there. The Yoga/pottery wheel class, inspired by that Ghost movie that finally made it to town, had to move over to the bank’s basement just to keep their time slot.

Anyway, I’ve been multitasking while catching you up on things and I’ve already taken Pearl for her walk. Now, I’m headed for the Busy Nest. I’m not there yet, but I almost am.

********************************
“Hi Grace, Hi Pearl, I’m here, are you?” (I smell orange blossoms. There’s either a wedding today, or Pearl’s added a new flavor of the day to her Elixerfixer promotion.)
“Essie! Grace needs you! She’s got a new bride in her office who’s wailing her head off. I just don’t have the patience to suffer other people’s misery. I don’t even want to see them again after they say their vows.”

“Hi Mrs. Smith. Remember me? I’m Ellie/Essie depending on who you’re talking to. What has you in such a dither?”

“Frank and I were only married for two days when he caught a cold. I tell you, he turned into a different person. He has run me ragged! Do you hear me? Ragged! It’s my fault the heating pad is too hot on high and not hot enough on medium. He said I put the ice in the ice pack wrong. He thinks there’s something not right about someone who can’t count out seventeen ice cubes. He moans like he’s about to take his last painful breath, and just now, he sent me to the store to pick up a bell he can ring when he needs me. I came here instead! What should I do?”
“CALL HIS MOTHER!!” Pearl yelled from the other room. “And then go to the yoga/pottery wheel class. It starts in an hour!”


I just happened to be looking through some books at the local resource center the other day and picked out four books that, for one reason or another, caught my eye. When I got home with them, I was pleasantly surprised that only one of them was a throw-away. The name of it is, Horns & Wrinkles, which sounded to me like it might be about mean, old people. I could really get into the psychology of that, but it turned out to be about trolls. I don’t know anything about trolls, so I went on to book number two, which is called, “The History of Farting.” I gave that one to a friend only because she knows someone who is fascinated with farting, (true story), and she’s going to give it to her as a special gift. I know she appreciated the gesture. It’s hard to find the perfect gift. (I did leaf through it a bit and it looks like it was well researched.)

The third book, God Save the Sweet Potato Queens, is a keeper if only because of the title. I think it’s a true story, and I like humorous stories that are nonfiction. I also have a special affinity to Queendom of any kind. There is a chapter called Death-Defying Recipes, so named because many of the dishes are made for funerals. We all know funeral food is usually some of the best you’ll ever eat. Remember the Methodist Church Basement cooks I talk about in my stories? They serve only the best casseroles. I was once kicked out of the church kitchen for daring to suggest using instant potatoes to top the highly appropriate for funeral fare… shepherd’s pie. By the way, after reading some of the recipe’s, I agree that some of them can serve a dual purpose. If there is a Horned and Wrinkled person in your life, with a bad heart, and they happen to be rich, and you are the heir, it could also hasten someone’s demise. They can’t put you in the penitentiary for serving a casserole with a pound of bacon and a bottle of mayo in it…can they?

Now to the fourth book. It’s a real winner and worth ten times the amount I paid for all four books. I have two author/heroines now. The book I picked up is called, Forever Erma, and it’s a collection of the best of Erma Bombeck. What a talented humorist…the book is 273 pages of hilarity.

Anyway, she  about how enterprising one of her children was when he was little. He sold his parent’s cancelled checks door to door and figured out if he sneezed on his brother’s cupcake, he could get an extra serving of dessert. I have no idea why this print turned red, but I’ve tried three times to turn it back to black and it’s not working. I have to leave now, anyway. I volunteered to help with a field day at the library. This is my second day to help 60 seven year old kids make things they swing in the air. There are a lot of parts, glue and rubber bands involved. I’m sure the moms will love them.

Have a great day. The print turned black again…go figure!