Wednesday, April 23, 2014

At worship service Friday night (Good Friday) there was a time for adoration of the cross.  I remembered my great grandmother’s graveside service and the country church choir singing “The Old Rugged Cross.”  I remembered at college graduation “When I Survey the Wondrous Cross,” and later realizing the appropriateness of the inclusion of that hymn.  It was a somber and beautiful adoration.

Earth Day, I went to two garden shops for ideas.  I saw a small gazebo with bench, shelves, and a swing.  I saw a swing on a frame.  I saw annuals and perennials and bushes and shrubs and thought, WAIT!  See what you have first.  Go home.  Look.  Don’t buy yet.  I looked at pots I had.  I looked at what was growing in borders.  I looked at yard space, both front and back.  Now when I go to shop, I’ll have a better idea of possibilities.

A former colleague told me that my novel was on his reading list for the summer.  I remember how I enjoyed the summer for reading, even if much of it were reading things I was going to teach the next year.  I recommend retirement.  The days are long and free for reading or for whatever else one wants to do.

There is an ancient piece of wisdom from pagan tradition of which I have realized the truth.  When we are engaged in long-term creative projects, we should not speak of them.  Speaking gives them a life before they are ready, and there is much detriment therein.  If I engage in a project, I will not speak of it until it is finished.

Most windows of downtown stores serve as walls for merchandize for sale items inside.  Of notable exception is the jewelry store.  The owners decorate for the seasons.  Now there are two display windows of Easter eggs and Easter bunnies, all in Easter colors.  I remember the jewelry store of the town in which I grew up.  There were often mechanical displays in the window, and my grandfather took me to see them as a treat for being downtown.

I wash pollen from my front porch rocking chair and sit.  The front yard trees are doing well.  Erik, the willow oak, leads the others in growth.  Sanders, the red maple, and the mulberry tree, whose name I don’t know are fine, in full growth.  Song, the gingko tree, is just beginning to leaf out.  Children pass by on bicycles and yell, “Hey, Mr. Bob.”  I greet them, and I don’t correct them.  Yes, I like to spend time rocking on the front porch and being Mr. Bob.

I sit reading the May edition of Our State magazine and notice many festivals and events on the back page listings.  If I wanted to, I could attend, among others, a White Squirrel Festival in Brevard; a Yadkin Valley wine festival in Elkin; the Ham and Yam Festival in Smithfield; the Potato Festival in Elizabeth City; the Shag Music Festival in Manteo; the Strawberry and Wine Festival in Ocean Isle Beach; the Rose Fest in Pink Hill; the Strawberry Festival in Wallace.  Events I might attend include a National Day of Puppetry in Asheville; golf related art in Aberdeen; display of pastel paintings of NC scenes in Charlotte; a festival of stories about mothers in Raleigh; a canoe, kayak, or pontoon boat ride up the Great Dismal Swamp Canal, leaving from South Mills and going about eight miles into Virginia.

I hope you are enjoying this beautiful spring and that life is good for you.  Thank you for reading.

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About billwednesdayblog

Retired high school English and French teacher.
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2 Responses to Wednesday, April 23, 2014

  1. I love the making of the trees! My mom assigned each one of us, as children, a tree that was “ours” in the yard outside our bedroom windows, When I go back home, I always go to my old bedroom and check my tree.

    And every neighborhood needs a Mr. Bob.

    Thanks for transporting me to spring. To a great degree, I was still stuck at Christmas and the diagnosis. Oh, we had hidden Easter eggs since January, knowing he would probably not make it until Easter, but it was nice to read your blog and think about pollen, store displays, and Our State magazine.

  2. Dave A says:

    Before retirement, Christine and I often made the summer trek back to Williams Bay, WI, to spend time with her parents; We always spent time in the surrounding town where there always seemed to be a “worthy cause” holding a pancake breakfast or BBQ lunch. Not to mention the myriad of craft fairs and open-air garage sales to haunt. Good that we drove — so many great buys to haul back to Denver.

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