Please Pass the Salt and Pepper

s and p
Originally uploaded by podso

Last Sunday at lunch my mother reached for the salt and pepper and said, "Oh, these remind me so much of my mother!" During the Great Depression my grandmother collected pretty pink dishes--called Depression Glass. My mother remembers using them at the table as she was growing up. By the time we grandchildren sat at my grandmother's table, they were stored in the basement. When I got married, which coincided with my grandmother cleaning out her house and moving to an apartment, I got the depression glass, along with her wonderful hope chest. I love using them, and love the fact that a reminder of my grandmother sits on our kitchen table!

So ...

I drove to work the other morning and didn't turn on the radio at all. I had no clue to the weather predictions, if the stock market had crashed, or the latest presidential dislike polls. I rode in silence, so deep in thought (note "deep in thought," not necessarily "deep" thoughts) that I totally missed my turn off and almost was late to work!

Hello Neighbor

cooling
Originally uploaded by podso

It seems the only time I bake cookies any more is for some special occasion that I must bring them to, or when we have new neighbors. We happen to have two new families that arrived in our cul de sac within four days of each other. I was amazed at how much I enjoyed baking chocolate chip oatmeal cookies today (and taking them over to greet and meet). When I reached for ingredients and untensils it was like greeting old friends I haven't seen in a while.

Echoes of the Sounds of Silence

stillness
Originally uploaded by podso

THERE IS SOMETHING TO be said for stillness and quiet (though it should be said very quietly of course, so not to disturb the peace). We relished our days in the mountains, and rejoiced that the first full day was a day of unending rain. There was nothing to do but read and nap. So restoring! The quiet was broken only by the sound of the rushing stream, rushing all the more after the rain. Such a soothing sound to lull one to sleep!

Silence like this allows peace to reign. Somehow when noise is going on, everything whirling in my mind kind of gets bogged down and is not given a proper perspective. In silence thoughts can sort themselves out to those that are meaningful ones to be pursued, while others are cast aside.

Did I bring silence back from the mountains with me? Not totally, but I am trying to decrease some of the noise around here. Some chores done in silence allow the same thought molding, and driving without the radio sometimes helps me to arrive more mentally rested than if I was "charged up" by the what I was listening to.

Anyway, it's worth thinking about. I read about silence recently in a magazine and the subtitle read: "Your world can be a place of peace if you let it."

Beyond the Wall

beyond the wall, originally uploaded by podso.

A friend loaned me Jan Karon's last Mitford book to read in the mountains. It was fitting as it could have taken place very near where we were. I felt like I was in the book as we drove winding back roads through mountain communities. As we passed little churches I wondered which was Father Tim's! I thought of this quote as I gazed upon the very mountains he describes: " Beyond the wall, it appeared that the whole of creation opened itself to him. An ocean of the world's oldest mountains rolled away on their journey to the west, green upon green, and in the great distance, blue upon blue. Small lakes of mist collected in the hollows, a poker-red sun cast its light upon the ridges and hogbacks as it ascended ... " (Light from Heaven)

seeking boredom

Spouse and I are heading for a week of semi-solitude (there are two of us) in the mountains. I'm looking forward to falling asleep with the sound of a rushing stream in the distance, reading, crocheting, walking, and napping. I think it's "just what the doctor ordered" and trust it does a world of good for Spouse's racing heart and tired mind. We've never done a full week like this before--no phone, computer (I hope), TV ... and not much radio reception. I hope we get at least one rainy day. I don't ever remember being bored, and can't imagine I will be this coming week either.

The Duty of Small Daily Joys

picket fence
Originally uploaded by podso

Henry Van Dyke, a good Dutchman born during the Civil War, once wrote: "She spoke of the duty of being ready to welcome happpiness as well as to endure pain, and for small daily joys, like the evening light, and the smell of roses, and the singing of birds [and white picket fences]. She spoke of the faith that rests on the Unseen Wisdom and Love like a child on its mother's breast, and the melting away of doubts in the warmth of an effort to do some good in the world."