Laughter, a Heart Sneeze

Translated, this means Laughter is a dust of joy that makes the heart sneeze.

I love that.

May you experience many a joyful heart sneeze today!

Snowy Morning Valentine's Day

What is it about morning and snow and a low sun glowing behind light clouds? Thoughts turn to God, when peering through an old window from a wood-stove warmed living room, lamps glowing. My husband's Bible is lying open on the antique table where he drank his morning tea and read a bit of the Psalms while in his clean work clothes before work. In the quiet of the darkness, before the sun began peeking over the horizon, my husband gave God the first time of his day. This humbles me. Seeing his Bible there is like catching a glimpse of sacredness, of eternity sampled. I feel honored to be his wife, blessed by God with a steady man who gives and gives and gives - for over 42 years - that we may have a safe and happy home. How I appreciate this man! More and more as the years go by. His steadfastness - his quiet living out of his duty and his love - comfort me today. So important to celebrate these small holidays. They offer clarity. Valentine's Day observed, marital love cherished. All the more.

Wendy Visits

In less than a week my dear friend, Wendy, comes to stay in my home for four days.

I cannot wait!

Wendy blisses out over art, as do I.

Wendy finds glee in studying and tasting an excellent vino, note-taking and all, as do I.

Wendy is up for a serendipitous and spontaneous adventure, as am I.

Wendy rhapsodizes over masterful art museums, stoic European ruins, dazzling French countryside, creamy Italian gelato, English fish 'n chips, driving Ireland's wildly narrow rural roads, musty majestic cathedrals, and ancient hilltop castles. As do I.

We talk for hours (which feel like minutes), feeding off one another, animatedly gesturing as we talk, sharing joy and pain and the knowledge and mystical sense of history innate in all of these mutual interests of ours. 

When we finally reach the end of our sharing, we are ecstatic. 

Effervescent co-mingling of ideas creates its own masterpiece, one that uniquely touches our engaged human hearts.

Precious friendships like ours break up the ordinariness of life, infusing it with color and challenge, as well as deep satisfaction. 

I hope you have a friend like Wendy. Even better, I hope you are a friend like Wendy.

Enthusiastic and ever young.

 

February 2021 - Life is a work of art, and a work of art is an adventure of the mind, heart, and spirit.

Here's to a brand new month in a brand new year full of brand new possibility. 

Shaking off the fear that consumed last year,

Focusing on the joy of life,

Taking back territory surrendered to the virus.

I will control what I can, create what I want, enjoy and learn and grow.

Let's do this!

Living among flowers  

 amidst people who love flowers  

is to dwell in the beauty of grace. 

Oh Little Angel, Shining Light

When I hold my little two month old granddaughter as she sleeps, the world slows to the sound of her breathing, embraces from the warmth of her relaxed, slumbering body, and refreshes at the smell of her fuzzy, soft head at my cheek. I explore her tiny hand wrapped around my finger, her little ears that look like her mama's which look like mine, the perfect shape of her tiny head, her nose, her eyes, her rosebud mouth. I am only aware of God, my life, this baby who is part of me. I do nothing but experience that blessed, prayer full moment - utterly undistracted - in the beautiful, timeless moment that is love.

French Level One, Fourth Time

Je parle français. . .

. . .un peu.

French is a very difficult language for me to speak, though reading is easier, writing, too.

The shape of my mouth and throat seem to resist forming the sounds required to pronounce some of the letters and blends.

Now, Italian, ah, there my mouth finds its home. Easy peasy!

Parlo italiano con felicità.

So, why study French?

Because I am - and have long been - a francophile. Studying the language was a natural result of my french explorations.

The same logic drives why I study Italian as well. I love Italy and the Italian way of life, for the most part. In fact, I began studying Italian first, but it was kind of hard because no one I know speaks the language, so I was all on my own. Reciting the words was easy enough. Understanding what I was saying, not so much.

Enter two daughters taking French lessons in high school.

Aha! Here's my chance to adequately learn a second language, I thought. I was right. The girls helped me quite a bit with grammar, with pronunciation, with answering questions about this and that.

Still, the language is a bit difficult for me. French people speak quickly. Very. And with very small mouth movements, quiet mask-type faces, not to mention those 'r's' in the back of the throat. Help! I am Old School American, big mouth, many facial expressions. 'Nuff said?

However, I am persistent. I have kept at it off and on over the years, twelve to be exact.

My foreign language skills helped tremendously during a recent trip to France and Italy, especially in reading literature and road signs. When it came to speaking, I was pleasantly surprised how the words and phrases popped into my brain when I needed them. Sure I was clumsy. Sometimes I'd become flustered, and all words French disappeared. I'd stand there stupefied. Those moments, though, when the words just flowed out unconsciously, those were the best. The French people were kind to me. They appreciated my effort. Communication happened well enough. (I should note here that the Italians understood me and praised me, though I speak Italian like a four year old. They encouraged me to keep at it, said I was doing well. I credit my pronunciation. I loved chatting with locals in Italian. I thrived and am eager to get back to that language once my French goals are met.)

Closer to home is the main reason I am determined to reach a higher level of skill: my son-in-law is French. His family is French. His friends are French. My daughter's and his children will be bilingual. (Their pup is! The command, "Fais bisou," which roughly means 'give a kiss,' is happily followed by a little Corgi nose bump on the cheek. It's quite cute.) How grand will it be to read French books to my future grandchildren! C'est merveilleux!

As anyone who has taken high school - or even college - foreign language studies knows, rustiness occurs pretty rapidly with disuse.

Herein lies my dilemma. Months and months go by without any cracking of the books or computer programs. Slip-sliding away.

I go back to the drawing board over and over.

BUT, each time I revisit the beginning levels, I find the review reveals that I am retaining the basics better and better, my pronunciation is improving, and I am tip-toeing around the beginnings of the faintest whispers of the outlying area of fluency.

It's hard!

But I love it!

Last night at midnight, after a few weeks of review, I finished - for the fourth time - Level One in my Rosetta Stone French course. It was so easy for me!

Final Score: 98%

I noiselessly, giddily danced around my living room, cheering myself on as the empty neighborhood streets glistened with light rain, and my husband peacefully slept in bed.

It's a big deal to me, to be still at it, to be improving, to be engaged and passionate.

Never give up. Never surrender.

Tomorrow I shall begin Level Two, for the third time.

Wish me luck!