Herbal Experiment

Variety pack oregano 

I'm out of Oregano.  Many of my favorite dishes find this herb in the ingredients, so I really miss it.  Before I could put it on the list to remind me of the Things I get to do today while shopping for groceries, I smacked my palm to my forehead and said, "Well, du-u-u-h." There's a huge patch of oregano growing in my herb garden.







Scissors in hand, I marched out the front door to the space where oregano is shouldering out all nearby plants. Whack, whack and I had a fistful for the food dryer.





A few days later, the dried leaves were ground and ready to fill my spice container. But the smell was not familiar, dead-center, oregano.  I'd planted a "variety" seed packet in this space, and the "exotic" results I now had left me unsure.



But miracles are always in the wind.  Scruffling around in the freezer this morning, I happened upon my bulk jar of oregano and was able to top off the kitchen container.  Maybe if I eat more of this stuff my memory will serve me better and I won't need to do herbal experiments on myself.  Miracles are always. . . .

What Did You Do?

Good will and the will to do good--not just talking about it,
 but actually doing something.

You knew I've been away.  The blog I planned to write on Saturday but didn't said: What did you do to spread joy and love and peace to a mother, maybe even your own, while I was gone?

That was your homework.  As a good teacher I know that asking for you to turn in your assignment is part of the Things I get to do today.

Your turn.  I want to hear from you.

Sweet William

Sweet William for Uncle Bill

He never had much. Didn't start out with anything in a poor family. Early exposure to smoke, soot and cinders from the lead smelter up wind took the edge off his portion of the family brains--everyone else was extra smart.  His mother called him "dumb Bill."








A year ago on June 11 we held his memorial service.  He lived to be 87. What everyone knew for sure about Uncle Bill was that he was kind, considerate, polite and sweet.  We sent home Sweet William seeds with folks who attended so they could be reminded of this gentle man every spring.

Mine are blooming now, and one of the Things I get to do today is share a bit of their loveliness with this note to honor Uncle Bill.  May he rest in peace.

Rewarded

Deep Purple with Black Velvet inner petals

I've never really seen the inside of this flower.  I was eager last week for the discovery.  Delphinium, this purple one at least, is regal enough to be queen (gracious thoughts to Queen E yesterday, today and for the two days after).

Black satin beads in the center.  

I'm away visiting and helping my mother for this week.  Find a sweet post here from the past to read.  Then find someone's mother to visit and help out this week.  Feel your heart open with love and compassion for all the Things you get to do today and everyday this week.  See you on Saturday!

Choral Qualities

Diva of the early morning--may I introduce Nora Jones Chicken!

Today's the day for singing. As these words are finding the page, my girls have started into yet another chorus.  The first piece had two stanzas beginning at 6:34, and after a 15 minute intermission, ending at around 6:55 AM.  I believe Nora (Jones/Chicken) was the soloist.

The second number picked up its rhythm about 9:14 with Miss Katy Perry Chicken taking the lead. Her double hiccough-with-a-glitch syncopation is hard to miss.  The other hens added an occasional extra beat to the confused song cycle.




And now as the Things I get to do today move into full swing, Nina Simone Hen has grabbed the mic.  Her heart-felt lines are delivered from her soul, and when she's done, she's done.  It's quiet.

Reminds Me of Something

I guess I could use duct tape to cover the label.  The salt people are not paying me anything.  They do not know I exist.  So this is not advertising for anything or anybody.  This is about the ordinariness of life.

Filling a salt shaker is not the highlight of the Things I get to do today.  But I was paying attention to the process. Shaker wasn't quite full, but the "bulk" bag of salt was empty.  I held it in my hand for a moment because it reminded me of something--but what? The picture was hazy.  So I fiddled with the bag and its cap for a bit longer.


That's when I made the connection: this salt bag looks very much like the water bottle pouches that fit in my husband's ski jacket.  It is nearly the same size and holds two and a half cups of liquid I found out.  Hot diggity! I'm not a total recycling maniac, but it is always deeply satisfying to reuse something that was meant to be thrown away.


My new water bottle for cross country skiing (or hiking for that matter), is a winner.  Next Handy Andy task:  develop some thing so the little tiny cap doesn't disappear in the snow if cold fingers fumble it.  Ideas?

Pack Your Parachute

Skydiving is well beyond the scope of this blog and blog writer.  A good figure of speech, however, must not be left unturned, so pack your parachute--since you'll be coming down soon, plan in advance for a soft and safe landing.

Not magazine-photo perfect,
but certainly ready for service.

All this mumbo-jumbo about being prepared came to me this morning after breakfast.  I didn't really want to clean up the kitchen, so I had a little chat with myself to take my mind off my "troubles" while I watched my hands tidy up and began wondering whether or not it made any difference for me in my day--this having the kitchen straightened up and wiped clean. Was I just OCD? That's when the parachute came floating down.

Here's what I saw:  busy day, lots of projects, needing a rest, wanting to eat something to restore my body. And it hit me.  Having a clean kitchen when my body was really tired and hungry meant that it would be so much easier to prepare some food for myself.  While I watched my hands wipe off the stove, another picture came forward:  tired body at the end of the day wanting an eagerly inviting place to rest for the night.  Having my bed made so that it beckoned me with love and comfort seemed so much better than tossing the mess of laundry off the foot of the bed and falling into the jumble of sheets and covers.

So there you have it.  Handy Andy's take on preparedness for the body.  I'll do it first thing before I launch into all the Things I get to do today and my body gets too weary to focus.  I'll pack my parachute when I'm clear and rested, because I know I'll be grateful as I'm coming down for a soft and safe landing.