They Enter Our Dreams

Forty some years ago, I discovered and became an admirer of Wendell Berry. I am sorry to learn that he died yesterday at age 92. I have shared many of his poems and quotes before but not this one:

The Loved Ones By Wendell Berry

The loved ones we call the dead

depart from us and for awhile are absent. And then as if

called back by our love, they come

near us again. They enter our dreams.

We feel they have been near us

when we have not thought of them.

They are simply here, simply waiting

while we are distracted among

our obligations. At last

it comes to us: They live now

in the permanent world.

We are the absent ones.

August '26 Books Read

 Nine books read this month; finally back in my groove. 

November 9, Maybe Someday and Maybe Now are all by Colleen Hoover, an author I had not read before.

Sandra Dallas is an author I have read and like. I thought I had read all her books and was pleasantly surprised I still had one I had not - The Persian Pickle Club.

The same is true about Sandra Brown. I was happy to discover I had missed reading Deadline.

No Rest For The Dead is unlike any book I have read - it was written collectively by twenty-six different authors with the introduction by David Baldacci.

Under The Falls is by Richard Russo, one of my favorite authors.

Strangers in Time by David Baldacci is a bit of a departure from his usual fare. It is set in London during WWII. Two teens are left homeless. They are taken in by a book shop owner where they find healing and hope in one another.

South of Broad is by Pat Conroy, an author I hadn't read since The Prince of Tides in the '80's. I had forgotten how beautiful his prose is - and happy to find the library has one more of his books I haven't read.  

What books will you find on my September reading list? 

School Days - Part II

Almost all of those notebooks I bought over the years were turned into my journals.

 

A Spiral Notebook By Ted Kooser

The bright wire rolls like a porpoise 

in and out of the calm blue sea

of the cover, or perhaps like a sleeper

twisting in and out of his dreams,

for it could hold a record of dreams

if you wanted to buy it for that,

though it seems to be meant for

more serious work, with its cover 

that states in emphatic white letters,

5 SUBJECT NOTEBOOK. It seems

a part of growing old is no longer

to have five subjects, each 

demanding an equal share of attention,

set apart by brown cardboard dividers,

but instead to stand in a drugstore

and hang on to one subject

a little too long, like this notebook

you weigh in your hands, passing

your fingers over its surfaces

as if it were some kind of wonder.

No surprise here - my 5 SUBJECT NOTEBOOK was yellow, not blue. I started it in December 8, 1972 the same way I began other journals: "Oh, how I have put off soiling this notebook for fear that I might write something that I would later wish I hadn't -- or that what I wrote wouldn't be up to par for what I want to write."

On the first of those brown cardboard dividers, I had stylishly written "Le Cahier Jaune" - "The Yellow Notebook". I had been reading Jennie - The Life of Lady Randolph Churchill about Jennie Jerome Churchill (Winston Churchill's mother) and read that she kept a yellow journal referred to as 'Le Cahier Jaune'. How could I not name mine the same?

The first section was a record of the end of '72 and the year of '73 - when I turned 30 in November. The second cardboard divider did not have a name and only five entries - three in January and two in April.

Section three was labeled "Thoughts" and had only one half page entry. It began: "Sometimes I think there is nothing better than the honesty of a cup of hot tea."

Section four, "Poems" contained five poems I had written, one of which was:

The Art of Being

Be still.

Quiet. Stop the racing mind and

Pacing feet. 

Don't think for moments.

Give yourself back to you.

Troubling it out

Won't help, 

Just confuse.

Let peace and quiet

Creep back in.

Then, then you will

Be able to understand

What it is. What to do.

Quiet, peace, 

Being, Transcend.

Section five was labeled "Affairs" and had one line: "Preserving herself in the amber of solitude."

There are pleasant memories in this journal but also two very sad entries. The first in December when my brother Ron and his wife had their first child. Jennifer Lynn lived only three days. The following October our sister Betty died of a cerebral hemorrhage at age 28. There are only two entries in '74 and one in '77 when I put the yellow notebook aside and began a new journal - a pattern I would continue over the years. 

A quick count shows at least ten incomplete notebooks laying around including the one I took with me to Ireland and one designated as my Spiritual Journey Journal. If I combined them all one or two of those five subjects notebooks would probably have held everything I wrote during those thirty some years.

School Days - Part I

The last time I was at Walmart, about ten days before the start of the new school year, as I walked past the aisle of school supplies I paused because I felt the pull of all those notebooks, pencils, pens, crayons, etc. just waiting for me to lovingly fondle; to pick up and put in my cart.

It was hard, but I resisted. I already have more notebooks, pens and pencils, etc. than I will ever use. My addiction is twofold, first the memories from my own grade school days when I was outfitted with a big chief tablet, two pencils and a box of eight crayons, second the memories of school supply shopping with my own children.

In addition to all those new supplies I purchased in the past, I also have things from our Saturday morning garage sale quests.

Some of which have never been used, by the person selling them, or by me! 

A Box of Pastels By Ted Kooser

I once held on my knees a simple wooden box

in which a rainbow lay dusty and broken.

It was a set of pastels that had years before

belonged to the painter Mary Cassatt,

and all the colors she'd used in her work

lay open before me. Those hues she'd most used,

the peaches and pinks, were worn down to stubs,

while the cool colors -- violet, ultramarine --

had been set, scarcely touched, to one side.

She'd had little patience with darkness, and her heart

held only a measure of shadow. I touched

the warm dust of those colors, her tools,

and left there with light on the tips of my fingers.

Cassatt is one of the artists I have long admired. She often painted pictures of mothers and children.

When Kari was in third grade, her teacher was a Miss Cassatt who said she was related to the artist. 

The Earth Laughs in Flowers

At the end of May I posted that at the beginning of the month I hadn't even decided whether or not I would plant flowers this year, but by the end of the month I had filled all my pots and planted zinnia seeds in the ground.

This sign, a gift from one of my daughters-in-law, is a perfect saying of how I feel about flowers.

Not just laughing but delighting in flowers. They just make me feel good - and happy, very happy. 

Time to share the latest blooms.....

Beginning with the one sunflower plant that I allowed to grow. This one is a giant - at least ten feet tall. 

The first bloom appeared two days ago. I counted close to 40 buds so I'm looking forward to seeing what the plant looks like when they are all in bloom.

I've already promised to share that photo on Facebook. I may or may not do another blog post of it.

The Black-eyed Susans are blooming at the bottom of the photo.

I took this enlarged photo of the front of our house this morning mainly to highlight the two Rose of Sharon bushes. The white one has been so full of blooms this year. The pink one is a little later to bloom and at first I didn't think it was going to flower at all but it wasn't long before it was also blooming like mad. They are both gorgeous, but I'm a tad partial to the pink one. 

Beyond them, on the left you can see the Autumn Joy sedum's flower heads taking shape. The tiny dot of yellow is one of the roses. If you can make out the pink above it, those are the Surprise Lilies, or, as I call them: "the Nekkid Ladies".

One day the ground is bare and the next morning these lovely pink blossoms are present.

Surprise!

I set my camera to 'macro' in order to get a good photo of the rain drops in the petals.

During the early a.m. hours I could hear the thunder and rain.

There was only a tenth of an inch in the guage, though.

A close up of one of the pink Rose of Sharon blossoms - also taken on the macro setting. 

As was this Zinnia. You can see more of the Zinnias in the full photo of the front of the yard/house.

I'm so glad I planted zinnias again.

Final flower photo before moving on to some of the baby wren.

Other than "tall white phlox" I don't know what to call these. 

They are next to the mailbox and were here when we moved in. I'm always happy to see them every year.

While I was out taking photos, I could hear a mama wren chattering like mad. My first thought was that there was a cat nearby. But I didn't see one and she just kept scolding.

Then I spotted this little one on the sunflower. Mama wasn't scolding, she was coaxing her offspring to trust its wings and fly to her in the tree.

Of course I had to interfere and take a picture. Just after I snapped this one, the baby flew up by the bloom at the top of the sunflower. 

A great photo-op except it flew again just as I was pointing the camera.

And landed here on the gas pipe from the meter to the neighbor's house.

Mama was still sending encouragement. Eventually the baby made it up into the tree with her.

I didn't see the mother well enough to tell if she is a House wren or Carolina wren, nor did I see any more than this one juvenile.

 

I took this picture of the last quarter of July's full moon Friday morning just as the day was beginning to dawn.

There is much comfort and pleasure to be found in nature.

P.S. Today is National Book Lovers' Day  - reading is another place/way I find comfort and pleasure. 📖

An English Romantic Poet

 

Percy Bysshe Shelley was born on this date in 1792 and died in a boating accident in Italy at the age of 29, July 8, 1822.  

Romantic that I am, I'm surprised I have not used any of his poems before though I've liked them since I was a teen.

Percy's second wife Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley was the author of Frankenstein.

  

Love’s Philosophy

By Percy Bysshe Shelley

The fountains mingle with the river

   And the rivers with the ocean,

The winds of heaven mix for ever

   With a sweet emotion;

Nothing in the world is single;

   All things by a law divine

In one spirit meet and mingle.

   Why not I with thine?—

See the mountains kiss high heaven

   And the waves clasp one another;

No sister-flower would be forgiven

   If it disdained its brother;

And the sunlight clasps the earth

   And the moonbeams kiss the sea:

What is all this sweet work worth

   If thou kiss not me?

 

Turn: Washington's Spies

 

We've been watching Turn: Washington's Spies - a drama first aired from April, 2014 to August 2017 on AMC. It is a period piece about the American Revolution from 1776 to 1781. Have you seen it?

First, let me tell you I am a big fan of history - one of my favorite school subjects - and second, I am also interested in the histories of wars fought in our country and by our citizens fighting in other countries.

There are 40 episodes. We have watched two a night for most evenings. Tonight we will watch our last two episodes. I am really going to miss watching this series. It is so good with characters you care about and ones you hate - one in particular for me. If you watch it, you'll probably figure out who that is. 

The series is based on Alexander Rose's book Washington's Spies: The Story of America's First Spy Ring, a history of the Culper Ring. From what I've read online about the spy ring, the series runs pretty true to the facts which makes it all the more interesting to me. TV worth watching in my opinion. 💂😊