Busy Blessing

Hello, dear people!

I was going to say, “It’s been quite a whirlwind” these last few days in Litchfield, but maybe that’s in bad taste as post tropical frankenstorm hurricane Sandy does her work?  I think probably it is, so . . .

It’s been very busy around here!

The very best kind of busy: I’ve been giving Bibles to fourth graders and helping them get to know their new books; talking with the confirmation kids about grace, faith, and the word of God; studying the Joseph story with a few faithful women; singing and playing with Zoe in between her virtuoso tantrums; drying the dishes while Mike washes them.

The kind of busy that leaves you tired, but all full up.

The sunrise that came with me on the way to church Sunday morning. I believe those dots around the sun are a single snowflake (see the flurries in the background?). If they are not, I don’t want to know.

What’s keeping you busy these days?

Weather Advisory

Zoe has been asking for snow all summer.

When she saw a happy otter family making snow angels in one of her bedtime books last night, it was too much.

“GOD!” she yelled.  “God!  Send the snow!”

Then, she revamped her musical rain prayer, singing, “I want God to send the snow . . . because I want snow.  That’s what I want.  God, send the snow!”

So.

If you woke up to snowflakes this morning, I guess you know who to thank.

What silly or crazy requests have you made?

Hot Enough for You?

I wanted to have a brilliant post for you today.

I wanted to make my own Top Ten Tuesday topic.  Red, White, and Blue Reads, I thought.  Or, Best Banned Books.  Or maybe, Best Books I’ve Gotten for Free.  (An Independence Day theme, you see.)

But it’s hot and humid in Minnesota this week, and my sweaty little mind just couldn’t pull itself together.  So, here are some refreshing winter photos from our friends at Flickr.  Grab a cold glass of something, look at these, and dream of snow.

Or, you know, temperatures below ninety degrees.  Take your pick.

What are your favorite ways to stay cool?

Signs of Spring

It’s coming, people.  Here are a few of the signs in these parts:

Confirmation class outside.  It was only for half an hour, and we were pretty chilly after five minutes, but still.  We were outside.  It was 6:30 PM, and it was light outside.  Also, instead of a play doh break we had races around the church.

Walking to Dairy Queen and eating outside.  Of course, some of the sidewalks were very nearly impassable, and the picnic tables must still be in winter storage.  But I’m sure I burned all the calories of my mini Blizzard on the arduous walk (and pushing the stroller worked my arm muscles, too).  Also, the Blizzard of the month  is mint oreo.  Highly recommended.

Mud. In the yard, on the car, on the country roads, on everybody’s feet.  But I don’t mind the mud because it gives me an excuse to wear . . .

Rain boots, not snow boots. I have a hot pink pair that, while not particularly pastoral, are just the thing on a gray March Monday.  Zoe has a puppy pair that, while slightly the worse for (someone else’s) wear, cost seventy-five cents and make her very happy.  Also, she can put them on herself!

What are the signs of spring that make you happiest?

Sometimes You Just Need a Nap

Instead of a blog post today, I had my second of two annual meetings (one of the special things about being the pastor of a two-point parish), followed by a tasty potluck, followed by a massive family nap.  The rest of the day holds playing with Zoe, supper, bedtime, dishes, and getting ready for the Journey of Renewal I begin tomorrow.

So, in lieu of Biblical reflection, enjoy this photo of Zoe.  Because who doesn’t love to see a toddler in full snow gear, complete with sunglasses?

While I”m off getting renewed, I may or may not be able to post.  Try not to miss me too much . . .

Some blessed Hope

Birdprints in the snow at Beckville.

These pretty little footprints delighted me on a recent trip out to one of my churches.  I thought surely they would call a poem to my English major’s mind.

They did not, but here’s a winter bird poem that, if I were more of a Hardy fan, I might have thought of myself (the honor goes instead to The Poetry Foundation):

The Darkling Thrush

BY THOMAS HARDY

I leant upon a coppice gate

      When Frost was spectre-grey,

And Winter’s dregs made desolate

      The weakening eye of day.

The tangled bine-stems scored the sky

      Like strings of broken lyres,

And all mankind that haunted nigh

      Had sought their household fires.

The land’s sharp features seemed to be

      The Century’s corpse outleant,

His crypt the cloudy canopy,

      The wind his death-lament.

The ancient pulse of germ and birth

      Was shrunken hard and dry,

And every spirit upon earth

      Seemed fervourless as I.

At once a voice arose among

      The bleak twigs overhead

In a full-hearted evensong

      Of joy illimited;

An aged thrush, frail, gaunt, and small,

      In blast-beruffled plume,

Had chosen thus to fling his soul

      Upon the growing gloom.

So little cause for carolings

      Of such ecstatic sound

Was written on terrestrial things

      Afar or nigh around,

That I could think there trembled through

      His happy good-night air

Some blessed Hope, whereof he knew

      And I was unaware.

I know, it’s a little . . . nineteenth century, but still.  The idea that a tired old bird knows of “some blessed Hope” that we don’t is kind of a pretty one.

Where do you find hope on grey winter days?

Saturday Snow

Ladies and gentlemen, I am pleased to introduce the best $3.99 the Cumings family has spent this month:

I refer, of course, to the red snow shovel.  Last winter Zoe had a great time using her little blue and yellow sand shovels to help her dad clear the driveway.  This winter, she is big enough for the real thing.  She was probably almost as helpful to Mike yesterday as I was.  (Pro Tip: Snow shoveling is, as they say in the seminary, one of my “growing edges.”  Hot chocolate consumption, on the other hand, is one of my gifts.)

Zoe had a great time shoveling and playing in the snow yesterday.  Check it out:

It was all fun and games until her mitten came off for the fifteenth time and she actually touched the snow with her bare hand:

Is it wrong that, before whisking her inside for hot chocolate and treats, I paused to take this picture?  (Pro Tip: I’m pretty sure the answer is yes.)

Welcome, Winter!

They were right.

This is last winter, but you get the idea.

The weathermen said it would snow today, and lo: it has been snowing for the last two hours.  They also said it will melt by Wednesday, and I hope they’re right about that, too, because there is a toddler in this house who doesn’t have size seven winter boots yet.  (Pro Tip: Saying to yourself, “I should buy Zoe winter boots” and then looking at a few resale shops is not the same as actually buying the darn boots.)

There are things I hate about winter: chief among them, having to cancel worship services and watching the sunset at 4:30 PM.  But let’s accentuate the positive!  Let’s sing some of winter’s unsung joys:

–Washing dishes and letting your cold hands soak up the heat from the lovely warm dish water.

–Flannel sheets!  Or, in our case, the even more fabulous microfleece sheets.  These were apparently all the rage in the bedding world a few years ago, when my mother bought them for us for Christmas.  “You said you wanted flannel sheets, but these are even better!”  And they are.  Look into it, friends.

–Hot chocolate.  Yesterday Mike and his dad raked the many, many leaves in our yard and took them to the compost site in many, many pick up loads.  Then we all enjoyed steaming mugs of chocolate truffle hot chocolate around the kitchen table.  (Pro Tip: writing a blog post and watching Mad Men on Netflix while Zoe napped was also hard work.)

–General coziness.  Snuggling under a blanket on the couch with your family / friends / pet / book.  Enjoying your favorite chili / stew / soup / box mac and cheese while you watch the snow fall outside.  These are winter delights.

–Knowing that someone else will move the snow.  Thanks, Mike.  I really do appreciate it.