Full of Grace

Surviving the storm - 20 inches of snow followed by a couple of days of this:

And oh yes, very grateful to have a new, efficient furnace that kept us toasty warm.


Being able to recuperate from multiple passes of snowblowing with some really good hot chocolate and skimming the many seed catalogues now appearing in my mailbox. There’s nothing like perusing seeds to set the heart to Springtime.


Peachie was home this week and has finally decided on some wedding logistics. She has asked me to walk her down the aisle and Martha to have the first dance with her. I am very relieved as I walk so much better than I dance. Actually I do almost anything better than I dance.


Beaner and her fiance are buying a house and I have been able to call on some experts to help. House inspector, check. Closing attorney, check. I could never ask while I was still employed as it would be a conflict of interest. But now retired I have been able to call in some big favors and save the kids a lot of money.


Lastly, this from Dorothy surrenders:

It has come to my lesbian attention that Cate Blanchett is in a new play where, if Twitter is to be believed, she walks around half-naked while wearing a strap-on and kisses at least one woman.


Unfortunately the play is already sold out in London so please join me in sending a plea into the universe that it comes to New York.

The Journey

When I was going through the worst of trauma related therapy, my therapist introduced me to the poetry of Mary Oliver with this poem:


The Journey

One day you finally knew
what you had to do, and began,
though the voices around you
kept shouting
their bad advice--
though the whole house
began to tremble
and you felt the old tug
at your ankles.
"Mend my life!"
each voice cried.
But you didn't stop.
You knew what you had to do,
though the wind pried
with its stiff fingers
at the very foundations,
though their melancholy
was terrible.
It was already late
enough, and a wild night,
and the road full of fallen
branches and stones.
But little by little,
as you left their voices behind,
the stars began to burn
through the sheets of clouds,
and there was a new voice
which you slowly
recognized as your own,
that kept you company
as you strode deeper and deeper
into the world,
determined to do
the only thing you could do--
determined to save
the only life you could save.

The only life I could save.

This poem broke me into a thousand pieces at the time but later gave me the inspiration to start building again.


Since then there have been many, many of her poems that helped keep me afloat during rough times and I have often benefited from her sense of the divine healing power of nature.


I was saddened to learn that Ms. Oliver passed away yesterday at the age of 83.


Her words were recited to me at the end of most therapy sessions and they stay with me as part of my daily morning meditation:


"Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?"


What, indeed ?


Thank you, Ms. Oliver.