Bring Me That Horizon

Welcome to jennyweber dot com

= Call of the Riled =

The most optimistic pessimist you are ever likely to meet.

One imagination at a time!

Don't shoot the messenger, babe.

Oh and I hope you dig snark-casm
because there's plenty on hand.

We should be in good shape as long as the Chanel No. 5, mascara, red lipstick, and Diet Coke hold out.

Can't write anything.

~ Jennifer ~

Causing considerable consternation
to many fine folk since 1957

Pepper and me ... Seattle 1962

  

InfozGuide

Belay That!

This blog does not contain and its author will not condone profanity, crude language, or verbal abuse. Commenters, you are welcome to speak your mind but do not cuss or I will delete either the word or your entire comment, depending on my mood. Continued use of bad words or inappropriate sentiments will result in the offending individual being banned, after which they'll be obliged to walk the plank. Thankee for your understanding and compliance.

~Jenny the Pirate~

Hoist The Colors

In The Market, As It Were

 

 

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Columbia Cemetery

To read my articles, click HERE! And don't forget to subscribe.

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Contributor to

American Cemetery

published by Kates-Boylston

A Pistol With One Shot

Ecstatically shooting everything in sight using my beloved Nikon D3100 with AF-S DX Nikkor 18-55mm 1:3.5-5.6G VR kit lens and AF-S Nikkor 50mm f/1.8 G prime lens.

Also capturing outrageous beauty left and right with my Nikon D7000 blissfully married to my Nikkor 85mm f/1.4D AF prime glass. Don't be jeal!

Dying Is A Day Worth Living For

I am a taphophile

Word. Photo Jennifer Weber 2010

Great things are happening at

Find A Grave

If you don't believe me, click the pics.

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Dying is a wild night

and a new road.

Emily Dickinson

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REMEMBRANCE

When I am gone

Please remember me

 As a heartfelt laugh,

 As a tenderness.

 Hold fast to the image of me

When my soul was on fire,

The light of love shining

Through my eyes.

Remember me when I was singing

And seemed to know my way.

Remember always

When we were together

And time stood still.

Remember most not what I did,

Or who I was;

Oh please remember me

For what I always desired to be:

A smile on the face of God.

David Robert Brooks
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 Do not regret growing older. It is a privilege denied to many.

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Keep To The Code

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You Want To Find This
The Promise Of Redemption

Blessed is the man that walketh not in the counsel of the ungodly, nor standeth in the way of sinners, nor sitteth in the seat of the scornful.

But his delight is in the law of the LORD, and in his law doth he meditate day and night.

And he shall be like a tree planted by the rivers of water, that bringeth forth his fruit in his season; his leaf also shall not wither; and whatsoever he doeth shall prosper.

The ungodly are not so: but are like the chaff which the wind driveth away.

Therefore the ungodly shall not stand in the judgment, nor sinners in the congregation of the righteous.

For the Lord knoweth the way of the righteous: but the way of the ungodly shall perish.

Psalm 1

Freedom is a fragile thing and is never more than one generation away from extinction. It is not ours by inheritance; it must be fought for and defended constantly by each generation, for it comes only once to a people. Those who have known freedom and then lost it, have never known it again.

~ Ronald Reagan

Photo Jennifer Weber 2010

Not Without My Effects

My Compass Works Fine


The Courage Of Our Hearts

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And We'll Sing It All The Time
  • Dream With Me
    Dream With Me
    by Jackie Evancho
  • Danny Wright Healer of Hearts
    Danny Wright Healer of Hearts
    by Danny Wright
  • Dreams
    Dreams
    by Neil Diamond
  • Standing Ovation: The Greatest Songs From The Stage
    Standing Ovation: The Greatest Songs From The Stage
    Syco Music UK
  • A State of Wonder: The Complete Goldberg Variations (1955 & 1981)
    A State of Wonder: The Complete Goldberg Variations (1955 & 1981)
    Sony
  • Bach - The Complete Brandenburg Concertos / Pearlman, Boston Baroque
    Bach - The Complete Brandenburg Concertos / Pearlman, Boston Baroque
    by Johann Sebastian Bach, Martin Pearlman, Boston Baroque, Christopher Krueger, Marc Schachman, Daniel Stepner, Friedemann Immer
  • Lead With Your Heart
    Lead With Your Heart
    by The Tenors, The Canadian Tenors
  • A Musical Affair (Amazon Exclusive Version)
    A Musical Affair (Amazon Exclusive Version)
    by Il Divo
  • Rachmaninoff plays Rachmaninoff
    Rachmaninoff plays Rachmaninoff
    RCA
  • Perfect Murder, Perfect Town : The Uncensored Story of the JonBenet Murder and the Grand Jury's Search for the Final Truth
    Perfect Murder, Perfect Town : The Uncensored Story of the JonBenet Murder and the Grand Jury's Search for the Final Truth
    by Lawrence Schiller
  • The Dictionary of Cultural Literacy
    The Dictionary of Cultural Literacy
    by James Trefil, Joseph F. Kett, E. D. Hirsch
  • The Gorgeous Nothings: Emily Dickinson's Envelope Poems
    The Gorgeous Nothings: Emily Dickinson's Envelope Poems
    by Emily Dickinson
  • Till I End My Song: A Gathering of Last Poems
    Till I End My Song: A Gathering of Last Poems
    by Harold Bloom
  • On Writing Well, 30th Anniversary Edition: The Classic Guide to Writing Nonfiction
    On Writing Well, 30th Anniversary Edition: The Classic Guide to Writing Nonfiction
    by William Zinsser
  • Green Hell: How Environmentalists Plan to Control Your Life and What You Can Do to Stop Them
    Green Hell: How Environmentalists Plan to Control Your Life and What You Can Do to Stop Them
    by Steven Milloy
  • The Amateur
    The Amateur
    by Edward Klein
  • Unbroken: A World War II Story of Survival, Resilience, and Redemption
    Unbroken: A World War II Story of Survival, Resilience, and Redemption
    by Laura Hillenbrand
  • Forbidden Grief: The Unspoken Pain of Abortion
    Forbidden Grief: The Unspoken Pain of Abortion
    by Theresa Burke with David C. Reardon
  • Never Trust a Liberal Over 3-Especially a Republican
    Never Trust a Liberal Over 3-Especially a Republican
    by Ann Coulter
  • Whistling in the Dark: A Doubter's Dictionary
    Whistling in the Dark: A Doubter's Dictionary
    by Frederick Buechner
  • Ameritopia: The Unmaking of America
    Ameritopia: The Unmaking of America
    by Mark R. Levin
  • Righteous Indignation: Excuse Me While I Save the World!
    Righteous Indignation: Excuse Me While I Save the World!
    by Andrew Breitbart
  • Executioner, Pierrepoint
    Executioner, Pierrepoint
    by Albert Pierrpoint
  • Curtains: Adventures of an Undertaker-in-Training
    Curtains: Adventures of an Undertaker-in-Training
    by Tom Jokinen
  • Talking Heads: The Vent Haven Portraits
    Talking Heads: The Vent Haven Portraits
    by Matthew Rolston
  • Mortuary Confidential: Undertakers Spill the Dirt
    Mortuary Confidential: Undertakers Spill the Dirt
    by Todd Harra, Ken McKenzie
  • Things That Matter: Three Decades of Passions, Pastimes and Politics
    Things That Matter: Three Decades of Passions, Pastimes and Politics
    by Charles Krauthammer
  • Good Dog, Carl : A Classic Board Book
    Good Dog, Carl : A Classic Board Book
    by Alexandra Day
  • Eats, Shoots & Leaves: The Zero Tolerance Approach to Punctuation
    Eats, Shoots & Leaves: The Zero Tolerance Approach to Punctuation
    by Lynne Truss
  • The American Way of Death Revisited
    The American Way of Death Revisited
    by Jessica Mitford
  • In Six Days : Why Fifty Scientists Choose to Believe in Creation
    In Six Days : Why Fifty Scientists Choose to Believe in Creation
    Master Books
  • Architects of Ruin: How big government liberals wrecked the global economy---and how they will do it again if no one stops them
    Architects of Ruin: How big government liberals wrecked the global economy---and how they will do it again if no one stops them
    by Peter Schweizer
  • Grave Influence: 21 Radicals and Their Worldviews That Rule America From the Grave
    Grave Influence: 21 Radicals and Their Worldviews That Rule America From the Grave
    by Brannon Howse
  • The Undertaking: Life Studies from the Dismal Trade
    The Undertaking: Life Studies from the Dismal Trade
    by Thomas Lynch
Daft Like Jack

 "I can name fingers and point names ..."


Easy On The Goods
  • Waiting for
    Waiting for "Superman"
    starring Geoffrey Canada, Michelle Rhee
  • The Catered Affair (Remastered)
    The Catered Affair (Remastered)
    starring Bette Davis, Ernest Borgnine, Debbie Reynolds, Barry Fitzgerald, Rod Taylor
  • Bernie
    Bernie
    starring Jack Black, Shirley MacLaine, Matthew McConaughey
  • Remember the Night
    Remember the Night
    starring Barbara Stanwyck, Fred MacMurray, Beulah Bondi, Elizabeth Patterson, Sterling Holloway
  • The Ox-Bow Incident
    The Ox-Bow Incident
    starring Henry Fonda, Dana Andrews, Mary Beth Hughes, Anthony Quinn, William Eythe
  • The Bad Seed
    The Bad Seed
    starring Nancy Kelly, Patty McCormack, Henry Jones, Eileen Heckart, Evelyn Varden
  • Knuckleball!
    Knuckleball!
    starring R.A. Dickey, Charles Hough, Phil Niekro, Tim Wakefield
  • Dodsworth
    Dodsworth
    starring Walter Huston, Ruth Chatterton, Paul Lukas, Mary Astor, Kathryn Marlowe
  • Act of Valor
    Act of Valor
    starring Alex Veadov, Roselyn Sanchez, Nestor Serrano
  • Deep Water
    Deep Water
    starring Tilda Swinton, Donald Crowhurst, Jean Badin, Clare Crowhurst, Simon Crowhurst
  • Sunset Boulevard
    Sunset Boulevard
    starring William Holden, Gloria Swanson, Erich Von Stroheim, Nancy Olson, Fred Clark
  • Penny Serenade
    Penny Serenade
    starring Cary Grant, Irene Dunne, Edgar Buchanan, Beulah Bondi
  • Double Indemnity
    Double Indemnity
    starring Fred MacMurray, Barbara Stanwyck, Edward G. Robinson, Porter Hall, Jean Heather
  • Ayn Rand and the Prophecy of Atlas Shrugged
    Ayn Rand and the Prophecy of Atlas Shrugged
    starring Gary Anthony Williams
  • Fat Sick & Nearly Dead
    Fat Sick & Nearly Dead
    Passion River
  • It Happened One Night (Remastered Black & White)
    It Happened One Night (Remastered Black & White)
    starring Clark Gable, Claudette Colbert
  • Stella Dallas
    Stella Dallas
    starring Barbara Stanwyck, John Boles, Anne Shirley, Barbara O'Neil, Alan Hale
  • The Iron Lady
    The Iron Lady
    starring Meryl Streep, Jim Broadbent, Harry Lloyd, Anthony Head, Alexandra Roach
  • Wallace & Gromit: The Complete Collection (4 Disc Set)
    Wallace & Gromit: The Complete Collection (4 Disc Set)
    starring Peter Sallis, Anne Reid, Sally Lindsay, Melissa Collier, Sarah Laborde
  • The Red Balloon (Released by Janus Films, in association with the Criterion Collection)
    The Red Balloon (Released by Janus Films, in association with the Criterion Collection)
    starring Red Balloon
  • Stalag 17 (Special Collector's Edition)
    Stalag 17 (Special Collector's Edition)
    starring William Holden, Don Taylor, Otto Preminger, Robert Strauss, Harvey Lembeck
  • The Major and the Minor (Universal Cinema Classics)
    The Major and the Minor (Universal Cinema Classics)
    starring Ginger Rogers, Ray Milland
  • My Dog Skip
    My Dog Skip
    starring Frankie Muniz, Diane Lane, Luke Wilson, Kevin Bacon
  • Sabrina
    Sabrina
    starring Humphrey Bogart, Audrey Hepburn, William Holden, Walter Hampden, John Williams
  • The Bachelor and the Bobby Soxer
    The Bachelor and the Bobby Soxer
    starring Cary Grant, Myrna Loy, Shirley Temple, Rudy Vallee, Ray Collins
  • Pirates of the Caribbean - The Curse of the Black Pearl (Two-Disc Collector's Edition)
    Pirates of the Caribbean - The Curse of the Black Pearl (Two-Disc Collector's Edition)
    starring Johnny Depp, Geoffrey Rush, Orlando Bloom, Keira Knightley, Jack Davenport
  • Now, Voyager (Keepcase)
    Now, Voyager (Keepcase)
    starring Bette Davis, Paul Henreid, Claude Rains, Gladys Cooper, John Loder
  • The Trip To Bountiful
    The Trip To Bountiful
  • Hold Back the Dawn [DVD] Charles Boyer; Olivia de Havilland; Paulette Goddard
    Hold Back the Dawn [DVD] Charles Boyer; Olivia de Havilland; Paulette Goddard
That Dog Is Never Going To Move

~ JAVIER ~

Columbia's Finest Chihuahua

Simple. Easy To Remember.

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One Word, Luv: Curiosity
Monday
Jun302008

At The Drive-In

drivein.jpgWhen I was a kid living in Florida, nothing made my sister and me happier than coming into the house after playing all day to find Mama or Daddy (or both) studying the section of the newspaper that told which movies were playing down at the Drive-In.  We knew what those pages looked like and we tried to tell from the expressions on our parents' faces whether they were just glancing through or were serious about doing the movie thing that night. 

We'd start hopping around, flipping out basically, begging to know if we really were going to the Drive-In.  Securing an answer indicating the affirmative or even the vaguely probable, my sister and I would begin gathering up our pillows and our stuffed animals and whatever else we wanted to cram into the backseat of the car to fight over when we got to the Drive-In.  Sometimes we changed into our pajamas because it was certain we'd be dead asleep long before we got back home.

We'd beg for a stop at the local grocery store so we could secure a stash of penny candy to futher "hop us up" and rot our teeth as we watched the movie from the dark, humid, stuffy recesses of our baby blue Nash Rambler.  Mama and Daddy would have their own stash -- of cigarettes -- and he would have his cooler of beer with a small brown paper sack to "hide" the bottle he was nursing, and maybe we had soda pop if the adults were in a good mood.  Mama sometimes bought herself a candy bar to enjoy during the movie. 

My sister and I usually achieved an uneasy detente by about five minutes into the feature.

I remember feeling such a sense of drama and adventure when we set out for the Drive-In at dusk on a sultry summer night.  I don't know why because, with the exception of the mystery and excitement of the movie itself, which I rarely if ever understood but which nonetheless wholly captivated me, the whole experience tended to be rather miserable.

I guess you could get into the Drive-In for about a dollar per car in the late '60s ... I don't know for a fact what it cost but that sounds about right given the general economy at the time.  Daddy would enter under the big neon-lit sign with its attached marquee, through the opening in the gate to the huge lot, where we'd hunt for an available speaker pole.  The gravel of the lot always sounded crunchy and loud under our tires.  Once we found our spot, Daddy would roll down the window and grab the clunky silver speaker, trying to hurry so as not to admit hordes of mosquitoes into the car.  He always failed.  Almost immediately you would hear that nauseating buzzy-buzz as the pests dive-bombed your ears, and right away you'd start scratching.

My eyes were invariably riveted to the five-acre movie screen from the moment it came into view.  Whether it was the dancing soft drinks and hot dogs (which fascinated me because we almost never visited the concession area except to avail ourselves of the restroom facilities ... their prices were too high), or previews of upcoming movies, or the cartoon feature, I could not tear my eyes away from that screen.  It seemed to me to be as big as the huge world beyond my limited horizons, and just as much out of my reach.

coil.jpgAs we got situated on our little plot of borrowed real estate, Daddy would fiddle with the sound knob on the speaker, cursing under his breath as the announcer's voice stridently invaded the cramped space.  Mama would quickly assemble and light a Pic mosquito coil, setting it right in the middle of the dashboard where the smoke rose lazily, blue in the reflection from the movie screen.  Sort of like incense, it was supposed to repel mosquitoes but to this day I think the bugs found the scent alluring.  At any rate there was no discernible decrease in the mosquito population feeding on us, but now there was added the disgusting smell of the burning coil.

It was all part of going to the Drive-In.

The movie would start.  From the dark hole I occupied in the backseat, perspiring, fighting with my sister, attempting to locate candy I'd dropped in the dark, swatting at mosquitoes, hating the smell of the burning coil, I had to sit up on my bony scarred knees in order to see anything.  If we kicked the back of Mama and Daddy's seats, or pulled on them to hoist ourselves up, we'd get in trouble.  Also we'd get yelled at if we made noise.  My sister and I usually achieved an uneasy detente by about five minutes into the feature.  She would sit by her closed window and I would sit by mine, and we ignored one another unless a stray foot happened to issue a sly kick.  Then someone was going to get hit or pinched, but quietly so we wouldn't get a whipping on top of our other injuries.

It was from the backseat of our family car that I saw movies like Hush, Hush, Sweet Charlotte and Whatever Happened To Baby Jane?  In case you aren't familiar with those films, let me tell you right now: Bette Davis in the 1960's could scare the stuffings out of a little kid.  Those two movies terrified me well into adulthood; once after I was married and had children I tried to watch Hush, Hush, Sweet Charlotte on TV and couldn't.  John Mayhew's severed hand on the stair, the blood spatter on the white of the debutante gown, the massive urn crashing down on Joseph Cotten and Olivia DeHavilland, was still too much for me.

It gives me the creeps just thinking about Joan Crawford in a wheelchair, being served her dead bird for lunch, and Bette Davis's evil cackle on the other side of the door.  How about Baby Jane Hudson's song?  I'm writing a letter to Daddy, saying "I Love You ..."  I now officially have the willies.  Let us move on.

I was ten years old when I "witnessed" the ambush and execution of Bonnie Parker and Clyde Barrow on a May morning in 1934 in Bienville Parish, Louisiana.  I will remember until I am too old to remember anything, how heartrending and horrifying it was when Faye Dunaway glanced beseechingly, knowingly, at Warren Beatty in the split-second before the hail of bullets sprayed their Ford automobile and their poor dying bodies writhed and jumped and sagged and fell from the limply hanging shell-pocked car doors.  I wanted to look away but I couldn't. 

To spend a summer night at the Drive-In was to have the lush panoply of life flung out in all its hideous glory on that brightly-lit expanse that, for a few hours, seemed to fill the universe.  It was all the questions and ostensibly all the answers a kid between the ages of eight and eleven could come up with or handle.  It is as much a part of my life as my family and the pets I've loved and the grades I made and the stubborn paradigm I eventually formed ... for good or ill, at least in part because of all I saw and heard at the Drive-In.

Friday
Jun272008

Short But Sweet ... And Colorful

paint.gifAndrew and I drove to North Carolina on Wednesday to spend a few days with Stephanie and her little family.  TG and Erica could not go with us and we missed them, but it was an enjoyable and productive visit nonetheless. 

Our daughter, Stephanie, together with her husband, Joel, and their daughter, Melanie, moved from Williamsport, Pennsylvania, to Lenoir, North Carolina (gracious are we going to run out of commas?), in July of 2007 when Joel was called as pastor of the Temple Baptist Church in Lenoir.  They occupied a small parsonage for several months while househunting.  Last November they moved into a new house and Stephanie began making it a home.  Baby Allissa made her grand entrance on April 15, 2008.

I cooked supper two nights, held Allissa, read to Melanie, drank coffee, and provided considerable moral support ... naturally!

Over the past several months TG, Erica, and Andrew (the painters of our family) have helped Stephanie convert the generic new-construction off-white of her house's walls to the decorator colors she wanted.  On Thursday Andrew painted the "last frontier" ... Steph and Joel's bedroom.  He then helped his sister to rearrange her furniture and get everything to her liking.  It all turned out beautifully and Stephanie was so pleased and grateful.

What do you think I did?  I cooked supper two nights, held Allissa, read books to Melanie, drank coffee, and provided considerable moral support ... naturally!  That included a fair amount of ooh-ing and aah-ing as the painting project progressed, and applause at the final result.  I am good at that kind of thing.

Melanie was camera-shy this time but I got several shots of baby Allissa.  She is a darling wee butterball and so much fun to cuddle.  Now ten weeks old, she sleeps all through the night so her mommy can catch up on much-needed rest.  Such a cooperative and adorable little thing!  I'm sort of wild about her.

Here's a shot of Allissa napping today, which activity I found fascinating.  If you're so inclined, click on the pic to see a few more ... including one of Andrew napping right beside her!  There's also a photo of handsome Uncle Andrew dressed in uniform for last Sunday's patriotic service at our church.

My chickie is with me
Monday
Jun232008

Have Your CAK And Eat It Too

chicken.jpgIs it just me or has the world gone crazy? 

According to a recent report by Sonja Barisic of the Associated Press, Kentucky Fried Chicken franchisees in Canada have been pressured by People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals (PeTA) to buy their chickens from suppliers that kill the animals by a "more humane method" than slitting their throats.

KFC Canada President Steve Langford has stated that KFC is working with PeTA on overhauling methods of poultry slaughter because "the ethical treatment of chickens is important to us."

Seriously, how long can it take to slit a chicken's throat ... and how long can the animal feel pain afterwards?  Is there any way to measure these things?

(Really?  Hmmm ... so what exactly is in those buckets if not fragments of dead chickens that have been dredged through the Colonel's special seasonings and fried in hot oil so that they could be sold for profit and consumed by human beings?  Where precisely does ethics enter this picture?)

But such happy news for Canadian poultry!  Over the next eight years KFC Canada will phase in the use of a method known as "controlled-atmosphere killing" (CAK) for all chickens purchased by its restaurants.

(Did you notice that word "killing" ... ?)

chicken2.gifWith CAK, instead of the chickens being conscious up to the time they are removed from their crates and their throats slit, they will remain in their crates where oxygen will be "removed" from them.  Then they will have no choice but to breathe "inert" gases such as argon or nitrogen.  According to PeTA spokesman Matt Prescott, the birds "do not suffocate but die painlessly."

(Did you notice that word "die" ... ?)

Will they pile up all the chickens' little eyeglasses and shoes and tooth fillings before gassing them?  Because to me it smacks of what happened at Auschwitz and Dachau, except that it's poultry instead of people.

And trust me: I am a lifelong carnivore and no stripe of an animal rights activist.  Doing this to chickens just sounds evil to me.

How about this: Do we know it will be safe for humans to eat the chickens that have died from being gassed?  Is there concern for the ethical treatment of humans?

Oh, I forgot!  That's not nearly as important as the ethical treatment of animals.  HAHA!  Silly me.

By the way, just wondering ... how does anyone presume to know what a chicken will experience when it is being gassed to death?  I mean, can we be certain that a chicken suffers less under those circumstances than when its throat is slit quickly and (I assume) cleanly?  And can one honestly assert that it matters either way? 

Seriously, how long can it take to slit a chicken's throat ... and how long can the animal feel pain afterwards?  Is there any way to measure these things?  I doubt it, but we have to be talking about less than three seconds here. 

So many questions.

In the end, folks, the result is the same: the chicken is dead and it gets eaten.  Chickens are not being "abused" because of the method currently used to kill them so that humans can eat them.  After all, the majority of them exist solely to be used as food and the only way that can happen is if they die first.

chicken3.jpgAs a final absurdity, at the insistence of PeTA, KFC has "agreed to add a vegan faux-chicken option to its menu." 

(Don't you know diners will show up by the droves at KFC, clamoring for that "faux" chicken?  Is that by any chance a euphemism for a hamburger?  Or, wait ... a veggieburger?  Put bacon on mine, please.)

Sure hope Chick-fil-A doesn't go that route.  Can you see the cows now, painting their billboards?  EeT mOr Fo CHiKiN ...

Faux chicken ... KFC would be wise to serve that up on some PeTA bread.

Friday
Jun202008

A Rune For June

rose.jpgJune is not my favorite month. That would be October. But this evening as I walked in the gloaming, I considered the assorted faces and the assured fate of comely June.

June traces the lightning bug's glimmer, the cicada's whir, and the susurrus of warm wind in full-leafed overreaching branches to where time lapses into a pink-hued memory of effortless days. June at its coolest is a languid float in sparkling water; June at its hottest is the ronron of the pool pump and the clack of busy squirrels in tall pines.
June is a trembling novice, a brave knowing soul, a seasoned conspirator.

June of all the months casts the tenderest, most wistful glance backward, and does it with dewy singing eyes. Sequestered in the soul of June is all the poignancy of all the love that ever was. Its roses, its moons, its skies, its blossom-scented air, its very existence summons belief in the God who put into motion all of June's romances.

June's beauty and grace softens the calumnies of mankind, if only for a moment. In an untouched June morning resides the clear light of forgiveness. June with its eager ambivalence embodies the siren call of wanderlust, the promise of adventure, the happy fact of a lengthy journey completed.

A June dawn beckons. A June day bestows. A June evening blesses. A June night beams. June's outrageous lambency and utter truthfulness increases flagging faith and soothes the bitter gall of heartbreak.

June's plangent song rides smoothly on its own fragrant breezes, heavy with nostalgia. June coos to its infants, laughs with its children, whispers to its brides, counsels courage to its aged, mourns with its dying. June inspires the poet, the artist, the builder, the naturalist and the lover.

When June at last languishes it lays to rest a measure of summer's innocence. June is a trembling novice, a brave knowing soul, a seasoned conspirator. June's gentle advances tune our beings to July's intemperate excesses, prepare us for August's overbearing and overlong contention.

June remembered is an unhurried embrace, a beseeching look, the final caress of a departing love. June forgotten is still, silent bells and an empty shell-strewn shore.

In June's going is the first peeking tendril of winter. Where Junes go, down light paths and dark, we follow.

Thursday
Jun192008

We All Have Our Illusions

orange.jpg

Tonight you may have looked up and noticed that moon illusion thing that happens a few days before the first day of summer.  TG and Erica and I were out and about just after "moonrise" and saw what looked like a ginormous orange drifting up from the horizon.  It was every bit as breathtaking as the meteorologists and astronomers all over the news today promised that it would be.  It's hard for me to believe that the moon's apparent size at such a time is a product of my imagination, but the experts insist that the moon is no bigger when it hovers just above the horizon than it is when it rises higher in the sky, seeming to become smaller and paler as it goes.  It's all in our minds.

As we chip away at them like we would a huge block of ice or stone, the size of the thing becomes more manageable and a shape begins to emerge.

Many if not most of life's problems are smaller than they at first appear, I think.  Sometimes their proximity to us, their massive girth, the power they exert over our being, causes us to imbue them with more heft and importance than they really have.  As the "giant" moon drifts higher into the sky, it takes on a disinterested and benign appearance.  The fire leaves it and only the pallor of its cyclops stare remains.  Even when the moon is "full" and at its most impressive, it is less intimidating later in the night than when it first looms gigantic, directly in our line of sight as we are driving or walking.

So it is with daily difficulties.  If at first sight they seem much too large to get a handle on, we should bide our time.  Wait.  Ask God for help.  Tackle the ones we can wrestle easily to the ground and get those out of the way.  Often in the process of doing this we realize that what appeared to be one huge insurmountable problem was really a collection of smaller ones huddled together, finding strength in numbers.  As we chip away at them like we would a huge block of ice or stone, the size of the thing becomes more manageable and a shape begins to emerge.

Sometimes we'll make a wrong move.  That is to be expected and doesn't mean we are losers.  It means we are making an effort.

Discouragement is sudden death to problem solving.  When we allow a situation to overwhelm us (and it won't unless we allow it), the situation has won and we are on the canvas ... down for the count.  That's when it's time to shake it off, bounce back up, and start swinging away.  Yeah, it's going to hurt and there will be a few more setbacks but after all that's what makes it interesting.

It helps if there's someone looking on, cheering for what they are convinced will be our ultimate victory.  There are people I am cheering for.  You know who you are.

We are troubled on every side, yet not distressed; we are perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not forsaken; cast down, but not destroyed.  ~2 Corinthians 4:8-9