Whispers

                                                                       Source: Infinitearethestars

Shards of glass lay scattered across the faded wood floor in the attic room. A large antique, artistically framed mirror leans against a wooden post, most of its glass gone. Pieces of it cling onto the aged frame, reflecting beams of light. These come through the dusty old window, perched crookedly below the slanted ceiling. I calmly observe the light playing through the floating dust.

Then I hear them.

Whispers fill the room.

Subtle sheens of movement in some of the glass catch my attention. Each wave is familiar to me and tells a story. Carefully, I pick up a piece and smile, lingering at its memory, feeling its warmth swell up inside of me as I hear and embrace the story it conveys. 

Music flows from other shards of the mirror. A mixture of happy, reflective, playful and cheerful sounds. Each reveal a story within it, but I realize that the music has created the life which is echoed in its glass. Their messages return full force, bringing forgotten awareness, as real as if it were happening right then.

Another piece displays the innocence and selfishness of youth. With renewed interest and amusement I wistfully observe, relieved at the wisdom that develops with age, but knowing I still have much to learn. 

Many of the pieces lay face down. Curiosity invites me to turn one over, but with immediate horror and disdain I thrust it back onto the cold hard floor! A churning feeling rolls within, sickening me. Hot tears flow. Why? How could I? I back away and leave them there face down - to keep their stories within themselves. I cannot bear them now.

Still another piece brings no emotion at all. It is dead, helpless, hopeless. This piece suffocates as I fight to keep it from enveloping me with its clench. This lack of emotion is the hardest to break from. It feels as if it has dark and emotionless, life-quenching eyes. I forcingly break its hold and lunge back, numb.

I cannot walk away nor change it, and yet I cannot fully embrace it. Still, it is my life and I was too pre-occupied to fully notice or understand the implications of how I have lived it. Overwhelmed, I close my eyes, re-focus and am transported. Warmth embraces me and I soak it up. It is a pure and forgiving love. A sense of reward that I do not deserve, but still it holds me closely, dearly. In this moment, it is my only desire and I want to stay here forever.

But my life is not done. There is more living to do.

Whispers fill my heart.

Come to Me. Lay your burdens on me and I will give you rest.

I breathe in, and out. There is hope.

Again He whispers – whatever things are honest, just, pure, lovely, and of good report, think on these things. You are loved.

I embrace Him, and again He whispers - I will never leave you. No, never.

Gratefully, tearfully,

I whisper...thank you!

The Landscape

The landscape was comforting and familiar. She looked it over once again, this time with a critical eye, inspecting each bump and spot while lightly running her fingers over the canvas. She cringed as she noticed some unsightly crevices where once it was uniform and flawless. It used to be such an appealing piece. At one time the canvas had been taut and smooth, emanating a gentle warmth and clarity of style. The colors had been strong and fresh; the form, pleasing to the eye. It had brought some compliments over the years which sh'd shyly dismissed as friendliness. To her the landscape told a simple story. It reminded her of life and its diversities. Yet, with each passing year the beauty of the piece had faded and each of the flaws she now beheld had slowly become more prominent. So much so, that sometimes the appeal of the object would escape her as she focused on its imperfections.

Lately it seemed more challenging to repair. The canvas was not as tight as it used to be. She learned to work with different colors and new tools to cover the blotches and lines that appeared over time. Determinedly she'd worked to make the old look new. It was that time once again. She pulled out her palette, ensured the right amount of light was in the room, and began the work. Carefully she applied the colors using just the right strokes. Every so often she stopped, backed away and took a broader look, so she could get it as close to the original as possible. Just another stroke here, a line and a dot there, and finally she was happy.

Looking intently, she decided there was still some beauty in the landscape, though it was gently fading and still showing some defects. It didn't have the same loveliness it once held, but it looked fresh and new, better than when she'd started. Satisfied, she put away her toolkit, took another quick look in her mirror, and also put it away. It would have to do. Time was moving on...


This post addresses something we all deal with on a daily basis. It was not meant to be self indulgent. In fact, it's okay to get older...the hoary head is a crown of glory! More important than outer beauty is the inner beauty of the heart. Perhaps we all need to focus more on the inner beauty which will eventually reflect gloriously from the outer canvas we possess.

Go easy on yourselves, and embrace every day God has given!

Carmen

Of Bountiful Apple Trees

When you meet him you’ll notice a twinkle in his bright, light blue eyes and a happy-go-lucky smile that he wears for friends or strangers. My father-in-law is a wonderful man who is loved by many. He and his wife once lived in a house with two large sprawling trees in the front yard, with a smaller rectangular shaped backyard, fenced in on three sides. The neighboring property had a large apple tree right near the fence. 

Every year around harvest my father-in-law would go pick the ripe fruit from the large boughs spilling over onto his property. Why allow them to fall to the ground? With a smile at Gods provision they prepared them for the cold months ahead. 

One day the neighbor cut back all the boughs leaning over the fence. Nothing had been mentioned one way or the other and it was completely legal to pick fruit on ones’ own property. It was a questionable gesture, but it was his tree to cut down.

It wasn’t until the next summer that we heard about it. “Do you remember that apple tree that used to be in our neighbors backyard - - the one right beside the fence?”  “It had good apples on it!” Then he reiterated how he would pick the fruit on his side and how the neighbor had cut it back last year. “I guess he cut it back a bit too much, because it died this year.”

These gracious in-laws of mine hadn’t even considered any foul play. Up until then, the neighbor had a lovely sweet bounty every year, but now he had nothing. His actions had got the best of him and in the end he tasted the fruit of it - - and I doubt it tasted like apples.

Regardless, I guess sometimes our actions get the best of all of us! It truly is better to be generous when we can be. It is more blessed to give than receive, after all.

Have a great day!

C~

Update: May 5, 2023

Happy 93rd bday young fella,❤️

"Betta" Days

Anyone that has been blessed with boys knows that taking care of living things are not usually their forte unless it's a tarantula, or a snake, or something else cool and dangerous.

So I wondered what would happen when my son's girlfriend gave him a Siamese Fighting Fish as a gift. To my surprise he happily took on the task of caring for this little fellow. Maybe there was hope? 

But alas, slowly his interest waned and three weeks later I remind him of his responsibility hoping to reignite his desire to take care of this gift. Time passed and the poor Betta's living environment was not getting any better. Once more I mentioned it to my son, this time pointing out the brown stuff growing in the tank. I warned that if he continued to neglect the Betta, it would surely die!

A few days later I noticed even more brown algae forming inside the tank and I had to come to terms with the fact that nothing would get done. The unhappy little Betta hid amongst the white plants which were now also covered in the offensive stuff. Apparently my threat of an untimely death had made no impact whatsoever on my son. A little disappointed with this revelation, I decided that my fish friend should no longer be subject to such ill treatment, and promptly took matters into my own hands!

THAT, my friends, was my big mistake!

With great care I scooped the Betta into a clean glass jar, and put him on the counter, safely out of the way. I carefully moved the tank over to the sink, with the pump still attached to it, the cord dangling. I turned and began to move away from the counter, and then froze as I felt something gripping my ankle....

SPLOOSH!!

I stood aghast as water, gravel, fancy rocks and offensive plants covered my kitchen floor! To my chagrin and unbeknownst to me, the pump cord had skillfully wrapped itself around my leg and as I turned away the fish tank tipped off the counter and onto the floor below. If that wasn't bad enough, the tank now had a big crack in it!

Meanwhile, the Betta sat on the counter in his temporary glass jar calmly observing my catastrophe...

Sigh...

I cleaned up the mess as quickly as I could and drove to the pet store to replace the little aquarium. Twenty minutes later, the Betta swam around happily in his new home, hopefully strong enough to survive the whole ordeal. I know I did, although I've had better days!

If perchance, he doesn't, I have a rain check at the pet store for a new one. They come free with the tanks. Who knew?

I hope this one lives though, we've been through a lot together!

Language Issues..."We The Peeps"

Is it just me, or are people changing the way we say some words? I think the English language is difficult enough without making changes that confuse us more. For instance, I was listening to the radio yesterday, and some expert on women’s menopause said “eestrogen” in his sentence. Someone tell me, when did "estrogen" become "eestrogen?"

Then the other day my friend and I were looking over some photos, and she commented that she liked the "seepia" one better. "Seepia?" When did "sepia" become "seepia?" This is hard for a word Nazi (though I tend to hide that aspect about myself). 

I wonder how they’d like it if I changed the language?  It’ll no longer be "people" folks! Nope, it’s "pepple," or maybe even "peeps" as Greg suggested in the comments!

Isn’t it enough for you that most of our language laws don’t work already? For example; I before E except after C or when sounding like A as in neighbour and weigh. So then what do I do with conscience or foreign, and what about leisure, either or neither? It’s verbal craziness!

Okay, so I’m just being silly here. But seriously peeps, I have a hard enough time with things like “eye candy” and “arm candy.” Now you’re going to confuse me more by changing the way normal words sound? 

This time I have to draw a line! No eestrogen for me, thanks! 😂


Have a good day!

PS: Check out my post on eye candy at the link above. 

Armed Candy

One annoying thing about growing up in a different country is that I can never get metaphors right. We immigrated when I was six years old, so I don’t know why, but apparently my brain reverts to Dutch thinking and my metaphors almost always come out wrong. Here is an example of that. 

At the breakfast table this morning, my husband mentioned how his hair appeared to be less brown and more grey these days. I then chirped in to say how I wanted to go grey since dyeing is such a pain in the butt and hey, it may look good! I then remembered the last time I mentioned that thought to one of my good friends. She said, “No Carmen, you want to know how you’ll look?…you’ll look OLD!!…don’t do it” she warned.

My husband now confirmed that sentiment by suggesting that perhaps I could walk behind him a few feet if I decided to let my hair go natural. Unfazed, I commented, “well, it’s not like I’m arm candy at my age anyway” (50-ish). At that point my mother, in her heavy dutch accent, entered the conversation with “yes, yes you are, you’re still ‘armed’ candy!" This was met with great enthusiasm by my loving husband. “Yep, she’s armed candy alright, gotta watch that one!

Well, after all the laughter died down, I wondered if he’d sleep with one eye open that night, because you know he probably should! ;)

This was about where I ended the original post.

Then, my son read this post and said, "you know Mom, the funniest thing about this post is, it's "EYE" candy, not arm candy.

Sigh. Yup, those metaphors get me every time.

Have a great day!

A Little Morning Static

A friend of mine routinely gets up at 6 a.m. every morning to take his dog for a walk around the block. One chilly morning he got up, grabbed a pair of jogging pants from the laundry room, got dressed and put on a warm jacket. He quickly leashed his dog and left the house. His usual route takes him down the street, across a field, past the neighborhood pub and over the road to the Gas Station, which is kitty corner from his house.

While he walked the dog that day, he noticed the neighbors he ran into displayed quizzical looks followed by smirks as they returned his morning greeting. People can be different...

In the meantime, back at home his wife got up, made coffee, then peeked out the window awaiting his return. As she watched him walk the short distance from the Station to their home, she noticed something unusual. Behind him something was catching on various jagged spots and random rocks along the roadway. She looked closer .... firmly attached to the back of his jogging pants was one leg and trunk of a freshly laundered pair of her pantyhose while the other leg lagged behind.

Happy tears....Lol!

Apparently he wasn’t too fazed…he likes being the center of attention! After all, he put a day-long smile on people’s faces that morning!

What better way to start the day than to spread a little happiness?