Quote from Vincent Van Gogh
Today I am flooding my page with all things that are nice, because in
the light of what we have been going through in the year 2020 to date,
we could all use a little bit of nice.
Generally speaking we think of Vincent Van Gogh as having been a tortured soul, and perhaps he was. This quote makes me think that even the tortured soul has pockets of joy in their lives.
Its here, that season of change which carries us from Summer into Winter . . . Autumn, or Fall as it is also called. Its time to break out the coverlets, change the bedding from Summer into Winter bedding. Unpack the woolies and wovens. I have noticed that all of a sudden now it is dark by about 7:30 pm. This happened seemingly overnight. It crept up on us with such stealth that we didn't notice it happening. The change is in the air. We have days filled weather from all of the seasons. Foggy mornings, nippy and cool . . . the days are filled with pockets of sunshine interspersed with spitting rain and hail, and then the cooler nights. We put the fire on and hunker down beneath our knitted throws . . . this the month of candle light and flame.
I have always felt it is a good thing we have this Autumn and Spring, they are like bolsters between the abruptness of Winter and Summer. Transitional months . . . they help to get us in a mindset for what is to come.
Our family is like a patchwork quilt
With kindness gently sewn
Each piece an original
With beauty all its own.
With threads of warmth and happiness
Its lightly stitched together
To last in love throughout the years
Our family is forever.
~Unknown
My mother used to have a quilt on her bed that had been sewn together by her own mother.It was a so-called crazy quilt, made of many, many patches of different fabrics. I used to like laying on it and running my fingers over the different squares and colour and patterns of fabric, wondering where each had begun their lives. Maybe one had been grandfather's shirt, and another a young girls dress for her very first dance. Everything in our lives tells a story if we are willing to listen . . .
My maternal grandparents were two who had three, and those three had thirteen and those thirteen grew to more and more and more . . . that's how a family grows. Each one a different patch of fabric on the family quilt, with its own pattern and weave . . .
When they are old, these are the sort of things
They will remember as the years go by,
A little gilt-edged card with roses on,
A fleece of carded clouds against the sky.
They will remember cookies warm and good,
The taste of apples from a sun-warmed tree,
The feel of earth against their naked feet,
The thrill of seeing ships put out to sea.
A dress she loved, a treasured pair of shoes,
A doll that spoke . . . a little rocking chair,
A birthday cake with silver candles on,
The fearful shadows falling on the stair.
A boy will treasure in his deepest heart,
The memory of a dog who worshipped him,
The swimmin' hole . . . cool water on his feet,
The shadows in a forest cool and dim.
They will remember as the years go by,
Dreams lovely as the day . . . hope's shining wings,
Like incense for thir soul's eternal peace,
The lovely comfort of remembered things.
~Edna Jacques, Things They'll Remember
Someone asked me the other day if I had my life to live over would I change anything.
My answer was no, but then I thought about it and changed my mind.
If I had my life to live over again I would have waxed less and listened more.
Instead of wishing away nine months of pregnancy and complaining about the shadow over my feet, I'd have cherished every minute of it and realized that the wonderment growing inside me was to be my only chance in life to assist God in a miracle.
I would never have insisted the car windows be rolled up on a summer day because my hair had just been teased and sprayed.
I would have invited friends over to dinner even if the carpet was stained and the sofa faded.
I would have eaten popcorn in the "good" living room and worried less about the dirt when you lit the fireplace.
I would have taken the time to listen to my grandfather ramble about his youth.
I would have burnt the pink candle that was sculptured like a rose before it melted while being stored.
I would have sat cross-legged on the lawn with my children and never worried about grass stains.
I would have cried and laughed less while watching television ... and more while watching real life.
I would have shared more of the responsibility carried by my husband which I took for granted.
I would have eaten less cottage cheese and more ice cream.
I would have gone to bed when I was sick, instead of pretending the Earth would go into a holding pattern if I weren't there for a day.
I would never have bought ANYTHING just because it was practical/wouldn't show soil/ guaranteed to last a lifetime.
When my child kissed me impetuously, I would never have said, "Later. Now, go get washed up for dinner."
There would have been more I love yous ... more I'm sorrys ... more I'm listenings ... but mostly, given another shot at life, I would seize every minute of it ... look at it and really see it ... try it on ... live it ... exhaust it ... and never give that minute back until there was nothing left of it.”
~Erma Bombeck
I think I remember reading this piece by Erma Bombeck, perhaps back in the 1980's from a magazine like Women's Day or Family Circle. She often had a column in those. Or it might even have been a newspaper. When I read it I was young at any rate, with all of my chicks gathered and tucked in around me. I could not conceive then of a life where this was not going to be so. I had not yet realised the transient nature of life. I know it now . . .
"Seize the moment, remember all those women on the "Titanic"
who waved off the dessert cart."
~Erma Bombeck
Animals always know where to find their patch of sunlight. Their little patch of warmth . . . and they have no qualms about wallowing in it. I have a photo in my album of Mitzie when she was just a young puppy laying on a little patch of sunlight just inside our back doorway in the kitchen, head raised, eyes closed, drinking in all of the warmth and getting the most out of it that she could. We need to be more like animals and sit or lay in our patches of sunlight and wallow in their warmth . . . get the most out of them that we can. Before its too late . . .
Never Give Up
For our light affliction, which is but for a moment,
Worketh for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory.
2 Corinthians 4:17
There are times when everyone feels like giving up. It might be an illness, injury, family crisis, or fatigue that causes us to give in to depression or makes us want to quit.
During difficult times our help should come from the Lord, for He has the remember to all our problems. The next time you feel like giving up, try quoting this verse from Philippians 4:13 - "I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me."
To many, Saturday is the best day of the week. The first day of the weekend, it is the day that the rest of the week works towards. A free day to do what you need to take care of, or have fun. My mother worked all week, as did my father. Saturday was the day that my mom deep-cleaned the bathroom, my father washed the car, vut the grass, etc. Groceries were always bought on Friday nights, so if any baking was done, it was done on Saturday also. There is a children's song in my church about the day Saturday. It goes like this . . .
"Saturday is a special day.
Its the day we get ready for Sunday.
We clean the house, and we shop at the store,
So we won't have to work until Monday.
We brush our clothes and we shine our shoes
and we call it our "get the work done" day.
Then we trim our nails and shampoo our hair
So we can be ready for Sunday."
What is Saturday for you?
And with that I will leave you with a thought for the day . . .
☾ ° ★° * 。
• ˚ ˚ ˛ ˚ ˛ • •。★★ 。* 。° 。 ° ˛˚˛ * _Π_____*。*˚˚ ˛ •˛•˚ */______/~＼。˚ ˚ ˛˚ ˛ •˛• ˚ ｜ 田田 ｜門 ★ *No, we don't always get what we want,
but consider this.
There are people
who will never have
what you have right now.
~unknown˛ • •。★★ 。* 。
Have a great Saturday. Don't forget along the length of your day . . .
