Friday, June 29, 2012
Sometimes we need a simple solution to solving the world’s problems. We often refer to Gloria as our “resident Erma Bombeck.” This piece is a gentle reflection on the value of a routine task. Enjoy. ~ Bonnie
This morning I stood with my hands in hot soapy water, washing dishes, gazing out the window, solving the problems of the world. I tried to sum up the number of times I've washed dishes in my lifetime. I started with the years my sister and I argued over whose turn it was to wash or dry.
This was not a very peaceful time, but we did interact with each other. Then I had to subtract the dishes my children did while growing up in our home. This probably puts me in the hole, as they were doing dishes for a family of eight at a time when I was cooking full meals every day. This is probably why they all have shiny chrome dishwashers in their kitchens today.
I add in my solitary years when all the children have moved on and I once again had custody of the Palmolive. I soon decide all these calculations are getting me nowhere so I return to solving the problems of the world.
My plan for world peace is to have the leaders of every country take a twenty minute break in the middle of the day and immerse their hands in hot soapy water and let their problems rest.
I worry that my granddaughter is missing all this. I watch her load and unload the dishwasher and wish I could put her hands in warm soapy water so she could feel the power of solving the world's problems. I am afraid that putting her hands in water might short out the headset that is permanently attached to her head. The fear of sparks flying from her braces and damaging her teeth forever, keeps me from even suggesting she try it.
Dishwashers are prevalent now. Those colorful dishwashing soaps are being crowded off the shelves at the super market by dishwasher detergents and rinses, cleaning sprays and kitchen wipes. We are gaining more sanitary kitchens but losing those precious moments of peace. Soon the day will "Dawn" without "Joy".
Tuesday, June 26, 2012
Please take time to read this piece by Kay. You will be glad you did. In a little slip of the fingers, I accidentally typed “peace” instead of “piece” in that first sentence. After you read this, you might be able to figure out why!
An excellent TV advertisement is pictures of different people of all ages saying, “It’s in here!” Indeed it is. We are spiritual beings, sensitive to the sounds, smells, sights, feelings (touch) of our existence. The bird songs in early morning awaken our awareness that we are not alone. The light and heat of the sun trigger our feeling of warmth. The smell of bread cooking or roses blooming trigger memories of beauty through their smells. The touch of a greeting of another alerts our joy in human friendship. We have an inner spirit which communicates with our whole body if given time. It is called meditation.
I have not always understood the beauty of the inner spirit. I saw American Indians beating a drum and chanting the same notes as they danced in a circle. It was just strange to me! I smelled exquisite perfume on some people and thought, “They’re just attracting others.” I’ve sat by campfires, enjoying every minute, but not realizing the relaxation benefit of pine smell of crackling fire. My husband and I loved to sit on
listen to the waves roll in or whisper as they drew back. The ocean sounds were basic to our early
being, but I just thought, “This is what we do on Saturday morning,” not
realizing I was connecting my soul to the Earth’s forces or meditating with my
inner self. Seal Beach
Our body has all the medication we need to live well and be healthy if we open up ourselves to our inner spirit. Our national parks were created so that people could go and embrace their essences. In order to save the most beautiful spots in our country, our government, beginning with Teddy Roosevelt, set aside
because of its uniqueness.
Yellowstone National Park
John Muir had come from
Scotland and written books about the joy of Yosemite. He often
had just a blanket and pieces of bread but climbed the mountains and drank from
the rivers and distanced himself from civilization for days, enjoying the
restorative effects of nature on the human soul.
Time Magazine recently carried an article about how life past 2012 is going to change because the parks are not being restored due to the economic situation and the threefold increase in population. More people crowd out space for each. Family vacations of camping in national parks have been possible for years. To get a reservation today takes sending a request at least six months in advance. Can we develop a new way to restore our souls? Considering the pressure of modern life, we need to protect our beautiful natural places.
Monday, June 18, 2012
Are you in a good mood? You will be after you read this creative color poem from Charlene!
Pink’s my very favorite hue
And I’ll share why with all of you
A combination—red and white
A dainty color, a delight
Garden flowers are sensations—
Roses, tulips and carnations
Cherry blossoms on a tree
A pinkish sky, so nice to see
Feeling “in the pink” is grand
Without a “pink slip” in one’s hand
On holidays, pink’s all around—
An Easter egg a kid has found
A Valentine, a pinkish shade
Perhaps one that a child has made
Pink is known for little girls
With pink barrettes to hold their curls
Frilly little baby clothes
And a baby’s tiny nose
Ribbon on a loved one’s gift
Always gives a special lift
And, of course, we must remember
The pinky ring upon one’s finger
Pink’s the color of some foods
To put us all in happy moods:
Ambrosia apples with their blush
Grapefruit before the morning rush
Animal crackers with sprinkled tops
Bubblegum that’s full of “pops”
Gumdrops and some jellybeans
(a real favorite with the teens)
Pink lemonade is such a treat
Pink-boxed donuts; that is neat!
Frosted cupcakes, cotton candy
Always make us feel quite dandy
Pink animals are but a few:
Flamingos, pigs, a cockatoo
Some silly ones come into mind:
The panther and the elephant kind
Pink can be symbolic, too
Familiar ones for all of you:
Cancer Awareness, #1
Mary Kay’s “cads” give us some fun
Pepto-Bismol soothes our tummy
But it doesn’t taste so yummy
Shears that cut serrated lines
Making patterns oh so fine
Cuts that zigzag here and there
Add some charm to what we wear
Pink is personal to me—
Some lasting images I see:
The color of my dress was grand
Upon a camel on the sand
Though this was back in ’65
The memory is still alive
The covers to my recent book—
Pink gives it quite a classy look
Pretty pink is all around
And, with this writing, I have found
My favorite color sure is PINK
Now even more than I did think!
Monday, June 11, 2012
Through the undulating canal
They followed the lead of my head
These feet kicked
These feet squirmed
Toddling unsure forward
They followed the lead of my head
These feet rocked
These feet rolled
Running fast with pure joy
Tripping over my glee
These feet flew
These feet danced
Tramping down prairie grass rooms
Wriggling like worms in warm sand
These feet giggled
These feet tickled
Pushing into bike pedals
With splendiferous abandon
These feet turned
These feet spun
Protesting against cold stirrups
Agonizing thrusts against pain
These feet delivered
These feet carried
Some day these feet will again toddle
Instead of pushing they’ll slide
These feet are glorious inventions
Thank you God for these feet
Thank you for making me so wonderfully complex!
Your workmanship is marvelous – and how well I know it.
Psalms 139:14 (NLT)
Thursday, June 7, 2012
We all know that we are headed for “old age,” yet it is so easy to miss the lessons of those who have led the way. Here is a poem from Kay, now in her very active and youthful 90’s. Maybe, just maybe, we can learn something from her. ~ Bonnie
I’m so lucky that
Those older folks that I now see
And thought I’d never be
Remind me I never saw what really was
I visited “old folks’ homes” to sing as a campfire girl
But I don’t remember the limping, walking residents,
The slower pace and deliberate moves,
The urge to sit and rest a bit.
Of halted speaking, searching for a word
To tell of a joy or event from their memory
They’d like to share.
It makes me sad that I didn’t know
What the older people in their earlier lives
Did to make them happy.
Their special days and happier days
Were never recalled because I didn’t
Share and imagine what they thought fine.
I don’t regret the things I have done
But now I know I missed what I should have done
To see, to feel, to listen, to hear the music
Of their souls who have gone before me in former times.