Sometimes I wander around aimlessly; bereft. I feel as if I belong to no one, that I belong nowhere. Life is just not what my child-self expected all those years ago. Where is the wonder and joy?
Then I remember...
This is not my home,
I do not belong;
and some day soon I will arrive at the door of Heaven, see Him whom my soul loves and I will be at Home forever.
And on a trivial note: the quality of one's life is sometimes temporarily improved by the addition of one pair of astonishing striped knee socks.
23.5.09
19.5.09
Heaven in a birdbath
Today Sarah and I planted a garden. You know that concrete bird bath in the little courtyard outside out door? Well, it has been problematic throughout the years. It grows nothing well- except moss. Last year it was lovely thanks to Aunt Robin. This year it fell to my lot to fill it up. First of all I grubbed it out completely and filled it up with some Miracle Grow stuff that had jolly well better be miraculous. It cost a enough.
Sarah and went to town this afternoon to pick out flowers. We weren't really sure what we wanted. Sarah was tired. I was crabby. We wandered around the outdoor part of Agway in Keene, pushing a poor excuse for a cart through the thick gravel aisles.
Sarah: (going past the herbs) Oh! We could fill it with herbs!
Katie: That's a good idea!
We walk past the herbs, not picking any up.
Katie: We need something tall in the middle, and something to hang over the edges, and then stuff in the middle. What about those pink flowers?
Sarah: Those are too tall.
Katie: no they aren't! (She picks one up)
Sarah: not the red ones.
We walk away. In fact, we abandon the cart and wander around and around in circles, alternately suggesting plants and rejecting the ones the other person had picked out.
Katie: maybe we should have some cool grass in the middle.
Sarah: No.
Katie: Oh, okay.
Sarah: People would wonder why we didn't weed our garden.
We finally had a collection of possibilities on our stupid cart. Sarah was sure they were all way too tall for our waist-height bird bath. I was sure they would be lovely. I won.
We practically carried the cart to the gazebo that served as a checkout. The lady in front of us was buying 13 rose bushes. The cashier was trying to ring them in without moving them off her cart. I was dubious that it was going to work; he didn't seem to be moving in a very orderly fashion. Sure enough- the end count was 15, so he started all over again; only this time she put them on the counter one by one. Sarah went to the car to wait.
I stood around with my feet on the ground. When the 13-rose lady finally left I checked out my odd collection of plants, minus the one that I rejected at the 11th hour because it cost 3 arms and two legs (as the saying goes). On the way to the car I became convinced that they were all too tall and that it was going to look horrible and stupid. Sarah would be right and I would be wrong- horror of horrors!
We planted them right away. And they looked beautiful. End of story. Only that I nearly cried they were so lovely- just like a piece of heaven.
Sarah and went to town this afternoon to pick out flowers. We weren't really sure what we wanted. Sarah was tired. I was crabby. We wandered around the outdoor part of Agway in Keene, pushing a poor excuse for a cart through the thick gravel aisles.
Sarah: (going past the herbs) Oh! We could fill it with herbs!
Katie: That's a good idea!
We walk past the herbs, not picking any up.
Katie: We need something tall in the middle, and something to hang over the edges, and then stuff in the middle. What about those pink flowers?
Sarah: Those are too tall.
Katie: no they aren't! (She picks one up)
Sarah: not the red ones.
We walk away. In fact, we abandon the cart and wander around and around in circles, alternately suggesting plants and rejecting the ones the other person had picked out.
Katie: maybe we should have some cool grass in the middle.
Sarah: No.
Katie: Oh, okay.
Sarah: People would wonder why we didn't weed our garden.
We finally had a collection of possibilities on our stupid cart. Sarah was sure they were all way too tall for our waist-height bird bath. I was sure they would be lovely. I won.
We practically carried the cart to the gazebo that served as a checkout. The lady in front of us was buying 13 rose bushes. The cashier was trying to ring them in without moving them off her cart. I was dubious that it was going to work; he didn't seem to be moving in a very orderly fashion. Sure enough- the end count was 15, so he started all over again; only this time she put them on the counter one by one. Sarah went to the car to wait.
I stood around with my feet on the ground. When the 13-rose lady finally left I checked out my odd collection of plants, minus the one that I rejected at the 11th hour because it cost 3 arms and two legs (as the saying goes). On the way to the car I became convinced that they were all too tall and that it was going to look horrible and stupid. Sarah would be right and I would be wrong- horror of horrors!
We planted them right away. And they looked beautiful. End of story. Only that I nearly cried they were so lovely- just like a piece of heaven.
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