My husband recently observed that I’ve taken to gardening after decades of killing every houseplant in sight, mostly because they were out of sight, and thus, out of mind. I quipped that I didn’t need to keep three children alive and could focus on the plants now.
I admit this is a most relaxing and enjoyable way to spend a morning. And the bonus is that I get pretty flowers and luscious fruit.
I’m not necessarily doing it for the health benefits. I mean, I don’t really do much exercise — but lugging around bags of potting soil might have some benefits, no?
I’m really taken by how the flowers seek the sun. I knew this, but to see it in practice is pretty cool. I’ve even managed to resuscitate an orchid. It is slowly wrapping it’s stem around the stake. Fun!
This week’s photo challenge, path, takes me down an unusual path — crossing the man-made causeway at the Brough of Birsay in the Orkney Islands. It was an exercise in patience, as we had to get a list of the tides and schedule our visit around low tide. It was worth the wait. We couldn’t get enough of the history of places such as this…I feel like traveling through Scotland the way we did, staying in places for several days at a time, gave us a taste of the present day, and a yearning to learn more of the past.
We often think of our lives as filled with paths — choices taking us down unique adventures looking toward the future. This vacation was both, as John and I made new memories for ourselves as we went down paths to the past that shaped the future. That’s a lot of time travel there. 🙂
Here’s some more from our visit:
I was going to inundate you with a million stained glass window pictures I’ve taken over the years. But then I thought better of it. Then again, I might change this to a slide show later.
It’s an important day, after all. This picture, taken on a wintery visit to the Boston area a few years ago is a favorite because of the teal colors. It shows the angel Gabriel appearing to Mary with the message that she will bear the Son of God.
In the sixth month, the angel Gabriel was sent from God to a town of Galilee called Nazareth, to a virgin betrothed to a man named Joseph, of the house of David, and the virgin’s name was Mary. And coming to her, he said, “Hail, favored one! The Lord is with you.” But she was greatly troubled at what was said and pondered what sort of greeting this might be. Then the angel said to her, “Do not be afraid, Mary, for you have found favor with God. Behold, you will conceive in your womb and bear a son, and you shall name him Jesus. He will be great and will be called Son of the Most High,* and the Lord God will give him the throne of David his father, and he will rule over the house of Jacob forever, and of his kingdom there will be no end.” But Mary said to the angel, “How can this be, since I have no relations with a man?” And the angel said to her in reply, “The holy Spirit will come upon you, and the power of the Most High will overshadow you. Therefore the child to be born will be called holy, the Son of God. And behold, Elizabeth, your relative, has also conceived a son in her old age, and this is the sixth month for her who was called barren; for nothing will be impossible for God.” Mary said, “Behold, I am the handmaid of the Lord. May it be done to me according to your word.” Then the angel departed from her. Luke 1:26-38
I didn’t exactly take this picture. Exactly. But I framed it. Does that count? My life is imitating art.
I had the pleasure of going to the Vermeer exhibit at The High in Atlanta last year. The Girl with the Pearl Earring was the big draw, so they had this cut out in the lobby. I’m not sure this necessarily promotes seeing great pieces — but hey, it was there, why not pop in the picture?
The exhibit was lovely — as I appreciated Vermeer’s other works, as well, but this is what drew the crowds. Like the Mona Lisa, it was much smaller than I thought.
More Art — Imitating ArtRead More
It occurs to me that eating Doritos is like my pathetic and woeful concupiscence. I don’t even mean that in a funny way, though it is a rather over-the-top analogy.
I stared at an open Dorito bag for about 5 minutes, circling back to where it was as I was putting away things in the kitchen. It kept calling to me. I don’t even like Doritos all that much. The salt, I suppose, is the draw.
The problem is, once I opened that bag, I couldn’t eat just one. And before I knew it, I had gobbled up a quarter of the bag. I didn’t feel at all satisfied, and it left a bad taste in my mouth. For all the wiping on a napkin, my fingers still carry the faint stain of processed cheese and fake ingredients.
Just like sin. Its ugly allure, my powerlessness to resist, and the mess. It leaves a mess.
I’m so grateful for the Sacrament of Reconciliation, and the availability of it time after time.Read More