On Memorial Day I pull out a now 65 year old poem that my grandmother wrote to my grandfather while he was overseas in WWII. It's handwritten on old war-time airmail paper, and something about the lightness of the paper and the beauty of her words just wraps me tight in their love story. I thought I might share it, but I am really not ready to let this one go.
My grandfather died in 1992. I miss him so.
Monday, May 30, 2011
Thursday, May 26, 2011
Today's book
Shame, the belief that God regrets creating you, is like a weather pattern that descends upon a mountain. I once believed I was the weather. Turns out, I'm the mountain. -Ian Morgan Cron, Jesus, My Father, the CIA, and Me: A Memoir...of Sorts.
What a great read. But now, I need something new. I just got this book today.
Thinking about a kindle or a nook, but wondering if the breaks in between book arrivals or the mad dashes into BN might be necessary for adequate sleep and sanity. I can't quite imagine myself with such easy access. I could be dangerous.
What a great read. But now, I need something new. I just got this book today.
Thinking about a kindle or a nook, but wondering if the breaks in between book arrivals or the mad dashes into BN might be necessary for adequate sleep and sanity. I can't quite imagine myself with such easy access. I could be dangerous.
Tuesday, May 24, 2011
Monday, May 23, 2011
New glasses
My new glasses arrived in the mail today.
I can see clearly. It isn't that the prescription changed. I am hard on things. The old ones are scratched, blurry.
I put the new ones on and the world came into focus.
I often wonder what it might be like to try on "new glasses" for the soul.
What would that be like?
How might my blurry world change?
Sometimes I find myself hanging onto the scratched up, blurry pair--the ones that should have been tossed with last week's garbage.
Why do I do that?
I wonder what I might be missing. What is soft that should be crisp? What is hazy that should be brilliant?
hmmm... it's like contemplating inaudible melodies.
Time to relax. Everyone is sleeping, including the dogs...and hopefully they mosquitos. I'm going to find the red wine, and then wear the new glasses to watch the fireflies dance.
Peace and love, Krista
I can see clearly. It isn't that the prescription changed. I am hard on things. The old ones are scratched, blurry.
I put the new ones on and the world came into focus.
I often wonder what it might be like to try on "new glasses" for the soul.
What would that be like?
How might my blurry world change?
Sometimes I find myself hanging onto the scratched up, blurry pair--the ones that should have been tossed with last week's garbage.
Why do I do that?
I wonder what I might be missing. What is soft that should be crisp? What is hazy that should be brilliant?
hmmm... it's like contemplating inaudible melodies.
Time to relax. Everyone is sleeping, including the dogs...and hopefully they mosquitos. I'm going to find the red wine, and then wear the new glasses to watch the fireflies dance.
Peace and love, Krista
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