Light on Snow, and Yesterday

It is not balance you need but adaptability.

Erwin Raphael McManus

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Hello Friend,

Thanks for stopping in. Isn’t it wonderful to be walking on clear sidewalks?

We’re trying a new tea today. Persimmon Peach Ginger is what it’s called but it has all manner of things in it: apple pieces, candied papaya, red currants, rose petals … I’m not completely sold on it, especially in combination with the chocolate chip cookies I’ve baked, but it is interesting. Let me know what you think.

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photo from unsplash.com

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Days ago, when there was much more snow on the ground, I was up while it was still dark outside. I looked out the window, over our backyard fence, over the alley, to the neighbour’s back yard. I often look out that window in the night or early morning, when the call of nature wakes me up. And sometimes, I linger there.

The window is always slightly open – even in winter – and no matter the season, the night sounds soothe me. Sometimes leaves gently whisper in the trees. In other seasons, slippery snow scuds across the shingles. Even the intermittent hum of the highway has its soothing effect at that hour. In those tranquil moments it seems as though nothing is wrong with the world, and maybe that’s why I stay there a little longer.

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Image by StockSnap from Pixabay 

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I’ve come to learn, over countless nights like this, that our neighbours-over-the-alley are early risers. Except on Sundays, their home lights are on by 5:30 am. One early morning I was even looking out the window when 5:29 flipped to 5:30, and just at that moment an upstairs light went on.

Over other early morning window gazings, I’ve come to expect the light to be shining from the kitchen window by 6 am. I’ve never visited that home, but in my imagination it is the window over the kitchen sink.

Such was the case that early morning when I looked out. But this time, instead of fixing on the lights coming on in the house, my eyes were drawn to the square of warm light cast on the snow below the kitchen window. It glowed and I felt welcomed into it, as though invited to sit by a fire and rest. It was … completion, perfection.

A pinprick of a moment in eternal time that served to fill my soul.

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Life is not hurrying

on to a receding future, nor hankering after

an imagined past. It is the turning

aside like Moses to the miracle

of the lit bush, to a brightness

that seemed as transitory as your youth

once, but is the eternity that awaits you.

R.S. Thomas

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Image by Jill Wellington from Pixabay

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There has been a lot of hype recently about it being a year since the first lockdown. I remember exactly where I was when we heard that the lockdown was imminent. The Cowboy and I were traveling home from having spent two weeks with family; a week with each set of grandkids. Shortly before that we’d enjoyed a two week vacation in the Caribbean. As we drove to our home province that day, I remember reflecting on the wonderful grace we’d been allowed: to have had our vacation and been able to see our beloved family before the world changed.

Now, I have become accustomed to waiting at the end of an aisle for another shopper to leave it before I enter. It has become the norm to cross the street to distance ourselves from our neighbours when walking, or to step away from someone when they come near. Do we even remember how to shake hands as we once did?

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They say a storm in summer clears the air and leaves the world peaceful. But there are some storms that can stir the world so about that when they have passed, things can never be set back quite as they were.

Laura Timmins
(Lark Rise to Candleford by Flora Thompson)

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Spring is just around the corner; another spring in pandemic. We made it through the winter. I’d say that’s an accomplishment. Well done!

It’s hard to know … how much longer. Though I don’t like it, I’ve become familiar with uncertainty. You too? Meanwhile, I’ve made new routines. I’ve learned things about myself: how I handle crisis, how I deal with time that’s been given me, how I appreciate the ones I love.

We can grieve over the things we lost in 2020 and wistfully remember what life was like pre-pandemic, but as Will Rogers once said, “Don’t let yesterday use up too much of today.”

Just like all the tomorrows of my yesterdays, I can never be absolutely certain what they will hold. What I do have is today. And I can take something from each today to strengthen my tomorrow.

Like warm light cast from a kitchen window in the dark of night.

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Image by Jill Wellington from Pixabay

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Thanks again for coming. As you listen to this gentle melody – An Early Sunrise by Randy Edelman – perhaps you will hear in it hope for your tomorrow.

See you next time, and stay safe out there.

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Feature Image by Pezibear from Pixabay 

The Simple Woman’s Daybook – March

Hello Friend,

Welcome to March! I don’t know about you, but for me there’s something so satisfying to my sensibilities when the first of the month lands on a Monday. It’s like the possibilities are endless and everything can start over fresh. All is right with the world.

There have been a few things this past month that have threatened to capsize my February peace; circumstances, discouragements, disappointments above and beyond those related to pandemic worries and restrictions. I think I spent most of February on the brink of tears, which is unusual for me. It’s all so wearying.

I’m weary. Are you?

But now, I’m taking a deep, deep breath and letting it out slowly. It’s March 1, and it’s Monday. The perfect time to start fresh.

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Jill Wellington [Pixabay]

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One thing The Simple Woman’s Daybook does for me is to help centre my thoughts and get me writing, especially in times when the writing hasn’t been as often as I’d like. I know I need the time and space to be quiet with my thoughts in order to put words on paper coherently. Since I haven’t had that recently, the Daybook is a welcome prompt. Many thanks to Peggy for beginning this venture years ago.

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For Today

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Looking out my window

It has been snowing. Judging by the pearl grey sky (and the weather app), it’s going to snow some more. My world has been clothed in fresh white. It’s as though a Great Cake Maker has taken a spatula to smooth the icing on house and vehicle roofs, windshields and driveways, but has forgotten to smooth over the pattern of divots left on the front yard by our friend, Rabbit (who may be here even now, hiding in plain view, his ears flattened against his snow-white body).

I am thinking

That we’ve come a long way since last March, and I wonder how future generations will perceive 2020. Will it be a nostalgic picture in the way that our generation looks back on the 1920’s?

I am thankful

For the sunshine this past month. No matter how cold it gets out there, if the sun is shining life is hopeful.

One of my favourite things

Reading to my grandchildren. Even before the pandemic, I read to them on video chat. They request their favourite books, and these days Little Munch barely says hello before it’s “Read the brown-bear book.” The most delightful thing of all is when I only turn the pages and they “read” it back to me.

Jill Wellington from Pixabay

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I am creating

Some mock-ups for picture books about Jubal and his adventures. I have shared some of his shenanigans here.

I am wearing

Black pants. Blush pink boat-neck sweater with three-quarter length sleeves. Tennis bracelet. Pink lipstick, called Cindy.

I am reading

Beautiful words strung together: Wendell Berry, Robert MacFarlane, Mary Oliver, Shawna LeMay, Sarah Clarkson, John O’Donohue. I read them in books and Instagram posts. In snippets, here and there, not cover to cover. They feed my soul.

A bird the size

of a leaf fills

the whole lucid

evening with

his note, and flies.

Wendell Berry

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I am watching …

This … and understanding that very hard times have come before now. At least my pantry is full, and I’m not hiding in a bomb shelter night after night.

I am listening to

Bluebird by Alexis Ffrench.

I am hoping

We can do an actual in-person walk-through of the wedding venue soon. A video tour just isn’t enough.

I am learning

That planning a wedding during a pandemic requires Plan A, Plan B, Plan C, Plan D, Plan E …

In my kitchen

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In my garden

All is quiet under a blanket of snow, waiting and listening for the first signs of spring: sap running and new roots digging deep. Waiting is a posture we have all been in for what seems like forever. But it isn’t forever, and soon … someday … one day, the waiting will be over.

Shared Quote

Sometimes, especially on the longest days, I feel that I walk from tiny grace to tiny grace, my daily bread taken bite by bite and to my astonishment, for this moment, it is enough.

Sarah Clarkson

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A moment from my day

Yesterday, with Babe, in the enchanting quest to find her wedding gown.

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Closing Notes

Pretty lace on a beautiful gown, the sweet voice of Little Munch reading to me, vivid petals on the flower in my kitchen window, sunshine, beautiful words, and soothing music … these are the tiny graces I walk among in what could otherwise be an overwhelming world. And the only thing required of me is that I notice them; that I give them my attention and dive deep in the moment. And, I find it is enough.

Thank you for stopping in today. Bye for now, and stay safe out there. Happy March!

Joy

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Feature Image by Maja Cvetojević from Pixabay 

January Quiet Blooms

what we need

is here. And we pray, not

for new earth or heaven, but to be

quiet in heart, and in eye,

clear. What we need is here.

Wendell Barry

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Hello Friend,

Are you up for a quiet chat? I’ve just baked some lemon cupcakes, and the tea, Crème Caramel Rooibos, is ready. It’s a luscious combination, as you’ll see.

Come on in.

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Image by Terri Cnudde from Pixabay 

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I’ve been quiet for a while, here at Scraps of Joy. I told a friend recently that I’ve discovered I like to disappear in January. I used to think it was because I needed the down time after the busyness of the Christmas season. But this past Christmas was abnormally subdued, and still I seemed to need to disappear in January. 

What I’ve learned since then is it’s not so much disappearing as it is looking for quiet.

I know, in these times it seems we have nothing BUT quiet – stuck in our homes, unable to gather with friends and loved ones. New restrictions and lockdowns every day, it seems.

But I mean the quiet of no outside voices – the voices blaring at us from news stations, and social media. Even good old fashioned newspapers. 

And the quiet of no warring voices inside our heads either. The ones telling us about deadlines and all the lists and things we need to accomplish. To “keep up.”

Keep up with the news. Keep up with the latest trends. Keep up with the Jones’s.

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Image from Free-Photos from Pixabay

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Quiet is an invitation to discover a lasting and internal abundance that we, in our hurry and distraction didn’t even realize was there.

Sarah Clarkson

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I feel like I was allowed a luxury, to take the entire month of January to become quiet, to be introspective, to ponder the question,

How is it with my soul?

Following an exercise my sister-in-law sent me, I started by thinking about all the things from 2020 that I was grieving. It was a surprising list. Surprising in that the list was so long. I’d had no idea I was walking through my days on these bruises and losses. And it took a week or two to work through them.

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Image by Marina Pershina from Pixabay 

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The next step in the exercise was thanking. Making a list of things I’m thankful for was easy for me, I’m generally a thankful person.

The last step was entrusting: looking at the uncertain year ahead, all the things out of my control, and entrusting them to God, who knows the beginning from the end. It’s hard, isn’t it, to admit to ourselves all the things that are outside our control? We seem to have an inherent need to be in control of what concerns our lives.

There is so much hype in our current world to take charge of one’s life, point it in the direction you want it to go, and march ahead, conquering all obstacles in the way.

And often, it’s the obstacles that are out of our control, isn’t it? I wonder what would happen if we started treating these obstacles less as annoyances or interruptions to trample over one by one, and more as opportunities to notice and welcome as part of our journey.

I’ve found that entrusting what I can’t control, as well as what I think I do control, is what brings me peace.

And just like that, my January quiet has brought me to February peace.

Thanks for stopping in today. I look forward to our next Tea Time. Stay safe out there, and see you next time.

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Feature Image by Olga Krikliva from Pixabay 

Comfort and Joy, and Jubal

Hello Friend,

Come in, come in. I’ve been waiting for this little visit.

Yes, it is looking Christmassy in here isn’t it? Truth be told, I haven’t put out as many Christmas decorations as I normally would, but there are corners that sparkle. And they do bring me comfort and joy.

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Now, have a seat right here while I pour. Help yourself to cream and sugar, and please, try these beautiful Christmas chocolates. Aren’t they the prettiest things? Delicious too. I’ve been saving them for you.

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Image by Terri Cnudde from Pixabay 

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I have been having so much fun this week. You know, The Cowboy and I can’t be with our grandchildren this Christmas, but I came up with a way, quite out of the blue, to keep in touch with them every day.

A few weeks ago, The Cowboy gave me a long-legged snowman to add to my collection. I absolutely love snowmen. They’re so jolly. Well, one day as I sat looking at him sitting on the little chair usually reserved for a beloved little person, I decided to bring the snowman to life.

I named him, gave him a pet reindeer and began his adventures.

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This is Jubal, and his pet reindeer, Reggie. Jubal is very curious and has been exploring my house. Every day I find Jubal somewhere new. I take photos of him and send those, along with a little story about Jubal’s daily adventure, to our daughters, who read it to the kids. Jubal has quite the adventures!

One day I arrived just as Jubal was trying to get in the hot tub. Thankfully, Reggie was smart enough to know he shouldn’t do such a thing, and was holding him back by the seat of his pants until I got there. As Sweetie read the story to her sons, and got to the part where I ask, “Do you know what would happen if a snowman got into a tub of hot water?” Bright’s eyes grew as big as saucers.

Another day, Jubal found my display of framed photos of the grandkids. “Can they be my friends?” Jubal asked. “Yep,” responded Little Munch immediately upon hearing.

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I have found Jubal at the dining table with coloured markers and papers everywhere as he busily wrote letters to his new friends. I’ve found him in the truck, waiting to deliver Christmas presents. He’s been in my study, reading one of the kids’ favourite books …

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… and once, I found him stuck in Gramps’s Christmas stocking.

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Every day’s story ends with Check back tomorrow to see what Jubal does next. It has kept this grandma busy, I can tell you, but it’s fun and rewarding to hear the kids’ responses, and have them call to tell me what they think Jubal will do next. I understand they’ve mailed letters to Jubal. We can’t wait to receive them.

Speaking of which, God bless the young post office clerk who allowed me to photograph him yesterday, accepting from Jubal the letters written at the dining table. As I was leaving he said, “Have a great day … what am I saying, you’re already having a great day!” He was such a good sport.

And he was right, my days have been great – filled with comfort and joy as I pivot from inner disappointment to outward fruitfulness.

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Image by Jill Wellington from Pixabay

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Thanks for visiting today, I’ve enjoyed sharing Jubal’s adventures with you. Stay safe out there, and see you next time.

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Feature Image by Jill Wellington from Pixabay