Monday Ponderings {March 4th}

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Divots

the road divots, the bowed concrete

the remnants and ruin of the blood-freezing

season – the cracks, crevices, craters

my tires and heart hit hard

teeth-rattling, rims crunch,

heart shards.

 

oh God, when will the gray-blue white

blankness break – when will the

ice crack away, the grating

chunks of it in my wheel wells

finger-nails on chalkboard,

scraping along my spine.

 

underneath all these sharp icy teeth

is a sleepy promise, a waiting song

green and gold to eventually come along

for now, the icy blanket holds me frozen

my soul drains, slurping down, down,

black and white.

 

yet nothing is stagnant, it’s secretly swirling,

something underneath it all is whirling, twirling

I faintly remember the buzz, the hum

of a fleshly heart starting to rumble-pump,

a breaking out, up, free, wheels all a spin.

 

my chapped cheeks, cold face begin to thaw

again the scraping, chopping, heating, shoveling

reveal layers – deep, driftings that must eventually

melt aside, virgin-muck, green-speckled

sprouts scrubbed afresh.

 

the darkness births the light – green newness

from deep-dark white – when deep under it, I struggle

to the top – but You, oh Love, melt it right down

drop by drop – drip, drip, drop, liquid love

flows in my veins~ softening divoted-heart

stone cold, now new-red,  and squishy-soft.

~A.M. Pine

 

 

Greetings, March…

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{old photo of summer travels – following the light. I’m working hard to enjoy these last moments of the white, brilliant, winter-y beauty, but highly anticipating spring. We’ve had an intense winter season here in Wisconsin, but spring is just around the corner!}

“Before they knew it, spring had arrived. Aunt Green took them into the wood to pick pussy willow and flowers.” – Elsa Beskow, Peter and Lotta’s Christmas

“After that hard winter, one could not get enough of the nimble air. Every morning I wakened with a fresh consciousness that winter was over. There were none of the signs of spring for which I used to watch in Virginia, no budding woods or blooming gardens. There was only—spring itself; the throb of it, the light restlessness, the vital essence of it everywhere: in the sky, in the swift clouds, in the pale sunshine, and in the warm, high wind—rising suddenly, sinking suddenly, impulsive and playful like a big puppy that pawed you and then lay down to be petted. If I had been tossed down blindfold on that red prairie, I should have known that it was spring.”
― Willa Cather, My Ántonia

I must have flowers, always, always. – Monet

The earth has music for those who listen. – Unknown

“Listen to the trees talking in their sleep,’ she whispered, as he lifted her to the ground. ‘What nice dreams they must have!” 
― L.M. Montgomery, Anne of Green Gables

To sit in the shade on a fine day, and look upon verdure is the most perfect refreshment.

-JANE AUSTEN, Mansfield Park

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Monday Ponderings {February 4th}

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Trials assume a very different aspect when looked down upon from above, than when viewed from their own level. What seems like an impassable wall on its own level becomes an insignificant line to the eyes that see it from the top of a mountain; and the snares and sorrows that assume such immense proportion while we look at them on the earthly plane become insignificant little motes in the sunshine when the soul has mounted on wings to the heavenly places above them.

~Hannah Whitall Smith

The Christian’s Secret of a Happy Life

p. 169

~

Monday Ponderings {January 28th}

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“All this building and talking and flying made me homesick. It wasn’t logical, since I was home, but that’s what I came to perceive – a fulminant ache high in the rib cage, a sense of time’s shortening fuse. After the first accident, it had felt as though my apartment belonged to someone else; after the second, I began to feel as though there was a home I belonged to, and this one, though pleasant and likable, wasn’t it. The previous tenant would’ve rejected such nonsense, but then the previous tenant never had an eccentric foreign houseguest, sewing up artworks to hang in the sky, talking to ravens, spinning twilit Arctic stories. My weary old ground was broken and watered, and what sprang up was a generalized longing. I began to feel like a character myself, well-meaning but secondary, a man introduced late in the picture. I wished to spool back and watch earlier scenes, to scout for hints and shadows, clues as to what might be required of a secondary actor when the closing real began.”

~Leif Enger, Virgil Wander

{emphasis mine}

~

Monday Ponderings {January 7th}

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…A story is told of a king who went into his garden one morning, and found everything withered and dying. He asked the oak that stood near the gate what the trouble was. He found it was sick of life and determined to die because it was not tall and beautiful like the pine. The pine was all out of heart because it could not bear grapes, like the vine. The vine was going to throw its life away because it could not stand erect and have as fine fruit as the peach tree. The geranium was fretting because it was not tall and fragrant like the lilac; and so on all through the garden. Coming to a heart’s-ease, he found its bright face lifted as cheery as ever. “Well, heart’s-ease, I’m glad, amidst all this discouragement, to find one brave little flower. You do not seem to be the least disheartened.” “No, I am not of much account, but I thought that if you wanted an oak, or a pine, or a peach tree, or a lilac, you would have planted one; but as I knew you wanted a heart’s-ease, I am determined to be the best little heart’s-ease that I can.”

Streams in the Desert

complied by Mrs. Cowman

p. 8

~

In Which I Talk More About Books {surprise, surprise} aka My Reading Plan for 2019 ~

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I will eventually get back to writing here, hopefully, at Hearth Ridge Reflections. I miss just talking of our days and the beauty found in the little moments of life.  I will stop just blathering constantly about books and quotes. 😉 Well, maybe not. Ha. Anyway, I decided to make my own bookish challenge for myself this year. In previous years, I’ve enjoyed the Back to Classics challenge, but I decided to take a break from that. I have so many books that I’ve read a little in or have been meaning to get to at some point. I think that I’m finally ready to challenge myself with a book list. I tend to be an “emotional” reader, choosing based on how I feel, so it will be interesting to see how I do with a predetermined list. I gave myself a pretty broad range of things to choose from except I noticed there isn’t any fantasy and not a lot of modern titles. I’m sure I’ll pick some of those up from my shelf or the public library. I list these here just to nudge myself in a couple of ways: 1. read my own shelf. I’m blessed with a nice sized home library after collecting at charity shops, yard sales, used book stores, and online over the years. I have not read all of them. Ha. 2. finish things you begin. If I don’t finish all of these, or if I read other books, that’s just fine, I just want to give these a bit more priority in my 2019 reading time.

  1. Middlemarch by George Elliot
  2. Les Misérables by Victor Hugo
  3. Pilgrim at Tinker Creek by Annie Dilliard
  4. Home Education by Charlotte Mason (trying to make this an annual reread)
  5. Hints on Child-Training by  H. Clay Trumbull
  6. Persuasion by Jane Austen (reread)
  7. Northanger Abbey by Jane Austen (reread)
  8. Green Dolphin Street by Elizabeth Goudge (reread)
  9. Island Magic by Elizabeth Goudge
  10. Make-Believe by Elizabeth Goudge
  11. Stillmeadow Road by Gladys Taber
  12. Story Girl by L.M. Montgomery
  13. Golden Road by L.M. Montgomery
  14. Gerald Manley Hopkin’s poetry book
  15. Joy of Snow by Elizabeth Goudge
  16. The Christian’s Secret of a Happy Life by Hannah Whitall Smith
  17. So Brave, Young, and Handsome by Leif Enger
  18. Virgil Wander by Leif Enger
  19. Springtime in Britian by Edwin Way Teale
  20. On Reading Well by Karen Swallow Prior
  21. The Tapestry by Edith Schaeffer
  22. Larkrise to Candleford Trilogy by Emma Thompson
  23. The Weight of Glory by C.S. Lewis (reread)
  24. The Cloister Walk by Kathleen Norris
  25. The Art of Eating omnibus by M.F.K. Fisher
  26. Babette’s Feast and Other Stories by Isak Dinesan
  27. A Walk Around the Lakes by Hunter Davies
  28. Last Child in the Woods by Richard Louv
  29. Three Squares by Abigail Carroll
  30. Ruth Bell Graham’s Collected Poems

I own all of these books with the exception of Island Magic by Goudge, a poetry book by Hopkin’s, and Virgil Wander by Enger. I will be getting them through the library, as part of my personal challenge is to stop buying personal books for myself for a bit. I still will purchased gifts or books for my children’s education, but for me, I’m pulling on the reins. I’m still going to keep track of what I read here at the end of each month and again, I hope to give these priority. Many of these, I’m well into already, or at least started. I noticed that I have some thicker non-fiction, but a good selection of beautiful, old fiction as well. I also included all five of my favorite authors! Can you guess who they are? 😉 What do you think? Is this doable for this year? What are your reading goals?

Happy 10th Day of Christmas and Happy Reading!

~

 

Welcome, January.

Janus

A two-faced start to the year

January reflects, like a glance

in the rear view mirror

Impressions, colors, dark and light

that past year fades

Into a ugly, beautiful hindsight

A white-knuckled grip as we race

Into a barren, bleak,  brilliant white

fresh snow-slate sort of landscape

Our stone jaw set towards

all the unknowns and unplanned

The trunk closes behind, bits

of string, regret, and laughter

getting caught in the hinge

yet possibilities, yawn wide and

broad ahead, what will

the year hold? We just have to

take that first road to the right

And smooth sailing till morning light

And we never

know where paths will lead us

Rain that will fall or flowers that

will bloom before us

But we’ve got a lot of stuff

in our car’s boot of yesteryear

and we’ll ride forth

facing a new-gift given

way, fresh and clear

A way stretching out

before, possible dark

rain-filled horizon ahead, but

for this moment, wind

tickles our cheeks,

sunshine on our heads

January, I’m not worried, darkness,

my old friend

You are the alpha of our year,

with little found joys sprinkled ahead,

all the way to the bittersweet end

Buckle up, turn up your tunes,

crack those stony necks,

face to the sun, enjoying every

quick-turn of the

wheels over pavement

new beginnings are just around

the bend.

~

A.M. Pine

 

Monday Ponderings {December 17th}

Elsa Beskow -sled, children, tree

A child’s wisdom include incredible curiosity, which denotes his essential humility. While adults sometimes hesitate to say “I don’t know” for fear they will be thought ignorant or stupid, a little child has no such silly inhibitions. Without a false sense of shame he pours forth his questions -“Why?” “What for?” “When?” “Where?” “Why?” Before their minds become biased by adults, children are open-minded, welcoming all truth concerning the world around them…Children know how to derive happiness from little things. They delight in little sparks of gladness and do not demand that every hour be flooded with unremitting pleasantness. This is wisdom of a high order, and the lesson is one of the best gifts children offer the world.

~Harold Kohn, Small Wonders, p.76-77

*Painting by Elsa Beskow and all rights reserved to artist.

~

 

“…for it was living itself that she enjoyed…” : Autumn and Elizabeth Goudge

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I’ve been contemplating seasonal literature flavors once again. Autumn is like a delicious seven-layer salad.  Or rather a hot, steaming, crusty potpie. A collage of flavors, colors, smokey smells, and damp bits, trees, the land returning to dirt. Just dig your spoon deep down into the squishy goodness, drawing up something tasty and different each time.  As I think on this passing favored season, I can’t help but begin to think of another of my personal beloved authors, Elizabeth Goudge. The autumn richness flutters, floating its way down through Goudge’s words, her flawed, hurting characters, and her sense of place. Nothing like the autumn season reminds us so much of the necessity of home and hearth. A place to gather round and draw in, the place you can return to often and walk away filled afresh and anew. Miss Goudge often wrote deeply of a central place, or thing that permeates and influences, that almost-out-of-reach-intangible something throughout her narratives. These often become like a beloved character in and of themselves. Her stories stray a bit, at times, leading you down strange, yet lovely mystical paths, and you may find a neatly stitched up ending occasionally, however I guarantee you will always walk away with something. A little wisp of beauty, a puff of smokey delight, a thought to dream on. Just like anticipating the first leaf to burst forth into it’s glorious splendor, you have to snuggle down with patience, soaking in each word, each line, and chapter. It’s a coming harvest that will surprise and fill the deep hunger of soul. Your breath sucks in, a beautiful, colorful surprise around the corner, inky scribbles on the page, an autumn gift of jewels for the taking. And of course, one of the secrets of autumn, is the deep, internal things happening underneath the surface. The hint, the promise of something green, some growth, and most importantly, hope. Wouldn’t you like to lick that spoon, taste a bit of this loveliness?

…He (John Adair) liked a constant supply of hot water, a refrigerator, an elevator, an electric toaster, a telephone beside his bed, central heating and electric fires, and anything whatever that reduced the time spent upon the practical side of living to a minimum and left him free to paint.
But Sally [his daughter] did not want to be set free for anything, for it was living itself that she enjoyed. She liked lighting a real fire of logs and fir cones, and toasting bread on an old-fashioned toaster. And she liked the lovely curve of an old staircase and the fun of running up and down it. And she vastly preferred writing a letter and walking with it to the post to using the telephone and hearing with horror her voice committing itself to things she would never have dreamed of doing if she’d had the time to think. “It’s my stupid brain,” she said to herself. “I like the leisurely things, and taking my time about them. That’s partly why I like children so much, I think. They’re never in a hurry to get on to something else.” 
― Elizabeth Goudge, Pilgrim’s Inn 

(emphasis mine)

 

P.S. – {I kindly suggest starting with The Dean’s Watch, A City of Bells, or Pilgrim’s Inn}

 

On the Eve {One Hundred Bits of Gratitude by Thanksgiving} #7-8

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{Gulf of St. Lawrence/Atlantic, summer 2017, from near the East Point Lighthouse, P.E.I, Canada. This photo has a special meaning to me and I love it so much.}

61. the joyfulness in my children, so refreshing

62. anticipation of my family’s happiness over the big dinner planned for tomorrow

63. overhearing the walkie talkie conversations between my children and husband as they hunt –

64. new Elsa Beskow calendar for the new year

65. good price on bulk red potatoes and onions

66. seeing my sister and BIL’s new apartment, the blessing of them cooking a great meal for me, and spending time just chatting

67. someone at church kindly filling in for me in Sunday School

68. an invitation to a lovely couple’s home after church last Sunday, delicious home-cooked meal, a cooking break for me. The gentleman was an accomplished carpenter and my little children were so delighted by the beautiful wooden toys and marble run he built.

69. a little copper tea kettle I found thrifting that has brought so much delight to us through it’s beautiful sparkle and hours of pretend play

70. my 11 yo’s languages and codes that he’s been creating. He is so inspired by Tolkien’s Elvish

71. new pen pals from Oregon for two of my children

72.  our dependable vehicles. My trusty Dodge Caravan gets me where I need to go and my husband’s Prius is wonderful for long commutes.

73. the Amish old-fashioned corn-shocks dotting the landscape

74. new book of Christmas stories to enjoy in December with some hot apple cinnamon tea

75. a sale on some shoes that I love! They are like a burnt orange (not my usual color choice), but they came and they fit perfectly and I love them

76. Pioneer Woman’s Pie Crust recipe. It’s my favorite and gets well used doing holidays and birthday seasons.

77. My SIL’s cranberry sauce recipe. She just blends up cranberries, a little sugar or honey, and an orange. Seriously, addicting stuff

78. My littlest son, who plays with pieces of cardboard, the broom, and an old bouquet of artificial flowers for hours. This kid is so unique, funny, and amazing.

79. sharing Thanksgiving poetry from anthologies with the family

80. the fast and furious snowflake shower today. Just so beautiful. The most beautiful part was seeing my 9yo out in it, just enjoying it, walking through it, and bending to look. She told me she was having a hard time seeing the snowflake patterns. I’m so grateful she wants to see them. Sigh

 

~

First Snow {One Hundred Bits of Gratitude by Thanksgiving} #4

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We awoke to a thick, delicious, white frosting spread across the land. We are delighted and are celebrating by baking something to go with our hot drinks and books today.

31. my daughter’s little whispy bits of hair blowing in the warm, wood-pellet stove air

32. banana and walnut go together so very well, do they not?

33. a lovely time with four mothers, a passel of children, books, beauty, and delightful conversations

34. impromptu date with my middle two, listening to their dreams, ideas, and having lots of laughs together

35. first holiday party of the season tomorrow, a chance to listen and encourage, and wash a few dishes 😉

36. little hands peeling mandarins, fresh, sweet citrus-y smell

37. wood smoke curling out of all the Amish schools, yards full of little carts, recesses of little, black-clad children running around. Crowds of them walking along the roadside, brightly colored lunch coolers banging against their legs

38. anticipating the 200 bulbs the little children and I planted last month. Spring will be glorious thanks to those little gems tucked away

39. tea with honey. I’m a coffee person, but in autumn and winter, “lashings of tea” is the way to go!

40. The only Christmas-y thing I’ve began early is Bing Crosby. Swoon, so cheerful and comforting

~