Early yesterday morning, there was this rainbow, visible from our kitchen window before breakfast.
After supper, another more colorful one, and double, appeared in the east out the living room window.
In between, part of our Wednesday was spent working on a new puzzle sent by Carolyn's daughter in law, Joan.
And a prayer from my reading this morning.
"Lord, You are our rock and our Redeemer. You are our strength and our Protector. Everything good in us is from You. It's crazy to think that with just a word You spoke everything into existence. You are amazing. You are mighty. Thank you for creating us to be able to see Your colors and feel Your Love.Thank You."
Blessed with a meaningful Day
With lots of color.
Thursday, May 21, 2020
Tuesday, May 12, 2020
A Reminder from an Everyday Errand
Sitting in the breakfast room, just checking my phone, I hear a voice,
"Honey, will you go out and get the mail?"
"Sure", I replied and promptly went out through the side porch and started toward the front of the house.
Walking around the south side of the house to the front, I exited the grassy area onto the drive and moved toward the road and the mailbox. Partway down the drive I passed the walkway from the front door.
At the point where the stepping stones meet the drive, there is an area with an outside light and a small flower garden.Two clumps of, what I think are Siberian Iris, I spy a hint of color, not rising out of the clump of green, but buried deep inside the flags, the foliage we might call the leaves.
A splash of purple at the bottom of the plant, hidden from view until you stand right over the tall green flags, and look down from above.
That is pretty neat, I think as I continue my short walk to the mailbox.
Walking, my eye is drawn to a larger white object over by the garage. I take a quick look to my left and see...
Yes, it is my beloved white 2007 Ford Ranger, standing proudly out in the late afternoon sun, just begging for a chance to pose for a shot.
Retrieving the mail, I move quickly back into the house and grab my phone. That truck is calling.
As I return to the front drive and move down toward my Ranger, I pass by the little purple iris and think...
Too often I have made myself the object standing proud in the limelight, when I should have been biding my time, inconspicuously waiting.
Over my lifetime, too often have I sought man's praise instead of being satisfied with God's.
A reminder from a stroll to the mailbox:
God's handiwork is so much more powerful than man's.
"Honey, will you go out and get the mail?"
"Sure", I replied and promptly went out through the side porch and started toward the front of the house.
Walking around the south side of the house to the front, I exited the grassy area onto the drive and moved toward the road and the mailbox. Partway down the drive I passed the walkway from the front door.
At the point where the stepping stones meet the drive, there is an area with an outside light and a small flower garden.Two clumps of, what I think are Siberian Iris, I spy a hint of color, not rising out of the clump of green, but buried deep inside the flags, the foliage we might call the leaves.
A splash of purple at the bottom of the plant, hidden from view until you stand right over the tall green flags, and look down from above.
That is pretty neat, I think as I continue my short walk to the mailbox.
Walking, my eye is drawn to a larger white object over by the garage. I take a quick look to my left and see...
Yes, it is my beloved white 2007 Ford Ranger, standing proudly out in the late afternoon sun, just begging for a chance to pose for a shot.
Retrieving the mail, I move quickly back into the house and grab my phone. That truck is calling.
As I return to the front drive and move down toward my Ranger, I pass by the little purple iris and think...
Too often I have made myself the object standing proud in the limelight, when I should have been biding my time, inconspicuously waiting.
Over my lifetime, too often have I sought man's praise instead of being satisfied with God's.
A reminder from a stroll to the mailbox:
God's handiwork is so much more powerful than man's.
Tuesday, April 21, 2020
Shelter in Place
What does a day of Shelter in Place feel like?
What do they mean when talking about "A New Normal"?
I was thinking about this in my morning quiet time and decided that we are just doing now what we were doing before all this staying home was mandated.
Let's run through an "Old Normal" day, like a Tuesday several weeks back.
Get up early, maybe 6-6:30
Read my morning Scripture and commentary (I am currently going through the Bible with Adam Wainwright, a pitcher with the St. Louis Cardinals and a member of Community Church in St. Simons)
Make the coffee, pour the OJ, and welcome my charming wife to a new day.
Breakfast
Check the iphone for email messages and weather forecast, then settle back in the kitchen rocker for a few quick Solitare games. I try to play 4 daily challenges.
Free Cell, Regular Solitaire, Pyramid, and Spider
Take care of any chores and get dressed.
Check the paper and do a couple of puzzles there.
It should be time for lunch by now...
Depending on the weather, the afternoon might be spent working outside, going for a bike ride, practicing Pickleball over at Central High on an old tennis court, or reading.
By that time, it is Supper..
After supper and cleanup it is time for some viewing on the TV
Being worn out from a strenuous day, we hit the hay.
The next day, we will begin another day, and it will probably look pretty much the same.
The "New Normal" of the COVID19 is surprisingly like the Old normal of a few weeks back. Sure we don't get to church on Sundays, or play Pickleball on Tuesdays and Thursdays, or work a stint behind the welcome desk at the BX on Mondays, but we keep our minds sharp with puzzles and games and enjoy our days together.
Let's don't forget the Cook, the one who keeps us nourished for our busy schedule.
We are blessed, and we know it.
What do they mean when talking about "A New Normal"?
I was thinking about this in my morning quiet time and decided that we are just doing now what we were doing before all this staying home was mandated.
Let's run through an "Old Normal" day, like a Tuesday several weeks back.
Get up early, maybe 6-6:30
Read my morning Scripture and commentary (I am currently going through the Bible with Adam Wainwright, a pitcher with the St. Louis Cardinals and a member of Community Church in St. Simons)
Make the coffee, pour the OJ, and welcome my charming wife to a new day.
Breakfast
Check the iphone for email messages and weather forecast, then settle back in the kitchen rocker for a few quick Solitare games. I try to play 4 daily challenges.
Free Cell, Regular Solitaire, Pyramid, and Spider
Take care of any chores and get dressed.
Check the paper and do a couple of puzzles there.
Sudoku
Crossword
It should be time for lunch by now...
Meal and a Game (or two)
Is she reading or playing yet another game?
Depending on the weather, the afternoon might be spent working outside, going for a bike ride, practicing Pickleball over at Central High on an old tennis court, or reading.
By that time, it is Supper..
After supper and cleanup it is time for some viewing on the TV
Jeopardy, Andy Griffith, and Heartland
The next day, we will begin another day, and it will probably look pretty much the same.
The "New Normal" of the COVID19 is surprisingly like the Old normal of a few weeks back. Sure we don't get to church on Sundays, or play Pickleball on Tuesdays and Thursdays, or work a stint behind the welcome desk at the BX on Mondays, but we keep our minds sharp with puzzles and games and enjoy our days together.
My Favorite-LEMON
Let's don't forget the Cook, the one who keeps us nourished for our busy schedule.
We are blessed, and we know it.
Monday, March 30, 2020
Fifty-eight Years Ago
A quiet event on this day in 1962.
The world hardly noticed.
The proud parents, as they watched their eldest son grow to manhood marveled as the redheaded young man made his mark on his world.
How did this child:
Grow to this man?
He was active.
He was inquisitive.
He learned things.
He was adventuresome.
He was competitive.
He loved his siblings.
He was a champion.
He over-married, and he and Karen have raised two great kids, Sawyer and Sydney.
Happy Birthday to a Good Man.
Your Mom was, and I'm sure, still is very proud.
As I Am
The world hardly noticed.
The proud parents, as they watched their eldest son grow to manhood marveled as the redheaded young man made his mark on his world.
How did this child:
Grow to this man?
He was inquisitive.
He learned things.
He was adventuresome.
He was competitive.
He loved his siblings.
He was a champion.
He over-married, and he and Karen have raised two great kids, Sawyer and Sydney.
Happy Birthday to a Good Man.
Your Mom was, and I'm sure, still is very proud.
As I Am
Friday, March 20, 2020
A Patch of Yard
Yesterday was Spring.
Temperature in the low 80s with plenty of sunshine, just right for getting in some needed yard work.
While working with the weed eater, flashes color kept making themselves known as I tried to get the weeds.
As I worked along, a passage from Matthew 6 came to mind.
8 “And why do you worry about clothes? See how the flowers of the field grow. They do not labor or spin. 29 Yet I tell you that not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these. 30 If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, will he not much more clothe you—you of little faith? 31 So do not worry,
Flowers of the field indeed.
I decided to take a 10 foot square of our back yard field and see what I found:
Carolyn and I identified all we could, but if anyone out there can add o our knowledge, tell us in the comments.
God's creation includes the giant redwood and the tiny flower of the field. Some are honored and protected, others are sprayed and discarded as weeds.
All found in a ten foot square path of field.
There is a certain glory in each that shows His hand.
Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like these.
Temperature in the low 80s with plenty of sunshine, just right for getting in some needed yard work.
While working with the weed eater, flashes color kept making themselves known as I tried to get the weeds.
As I worked along, a passage from Matthew 6 came to mind.
8 “And why do you worry about clothes? See how the flowers of the field grow. They do not labor or spin. 29 Yet I tell you that not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these. 30 If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, will he not much more clothe you—you of little faith? 31 So do not worry,
Flowers of the field indeed.
I decided to take a 10 foot square of our back yard field and see what I found:
Violet (white)
Grape Hyacinth
Dandelion with Seed Pod
Star of Bethlehem
Violet Purple
Wild Strawberry
Periwinkle (Vinca)
God's creation includes the giant redwood and the tiny flower of the field. Some are honored and protected, others are sprayed and discarded as weeds.
All found in a ten foot square path of field.
There is a certain glory in each that shows His hand.
Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like these.
Wednesday, March 4, 2020
The Past and Present Collide
Past Facts and Information:
1. Back in the late 80s, I retired from the produce business, sold the company to its employees, and went back to college (University of Tennessee at Chattanooga), and received another degree in Education in 1990.
2. I did my student teaching at Chattanooga School for the Arts and Sciences (CSAS).
3. I taught American History in the upper school until Mayre and I moved to St. Simons in 1995.
4. While at CSAS, my friend Mark Dragoo, who was, and still is, Athletic Director at the school, gave me the opportunity to coach Cross Country and Baseball. Mark was head Basketball Coach for the Patriot Boy's team.
Fast Forward to the Present (with some facts)
1. After Carolyn and I married in 2019, I became full time in Chattanooga.
2. In February of 2020, she and I volunteered to help staff the welcome desk at the BX, which is the conference and athletic center at our church, Brainerd Baptist.
Now let's look at a story that took place over the past couple of weeks.
While working our Monday shift at the BX, primarily checking in BX members who want to use the facilities, I noticed a name on the computer screen. I knew that name, Phillip Moss, and I wondered if I might have know him in the past.
When he came back into the lobby, I walked over and asked if he might be the boy (man now) who was at CSAS back in the early 90s. He answered with a question, "Weren't you my history teacher there?"
We determined that we did remember each other, and that I had been on my student teaching assignment during that 1991 basketball season when he was playing on the team that went to the State Championships.
We talked about family, about school, and basketball. I remembered him playing and asked about the present team and coach. He said that Mark was still there, still coaching, and the team was beginning the District basketball tournament the next week. The games would be played at CSAS.
When I asked Carolyn if she would like to watch a game, she enthusiastically answered in the affirmative, and we made our plans.
The Patriots won that game over Sale Creek. Although they lost the Championship game to Lookout Valley. they did qualify for the Region tournament, which would be on the next Saturday, in the CSAS gym.
The opponent in the first game of the Region was from Sunbright, a small town west of Knoxville, and the CSAS boys won that game. The next game, also at CSAS, was against Oneida, another town in the Knoxville area, and that game was last night.
Well, we were there again, and, although the home team lost, it was a good game, and a close one. Mark was coaching a young team with few upperclassmen, and a host of sophs and freshmen.They acquitted themselves very well.
We had watched three games in that short span of time, and enjoyed the atmosphere of high school basketball. Carolyn, who was not a big fan of sports, was very much "into the games".
Mark had coached at the school for 30 years and they school had named the basketball court in his honor.
Even though it had been a losing effort, the best way to top off the evening would always be some Krystals and fries.
And sports conversation about the game with my charming wife, who is waiting anxiously for the 2020-21 season to begin.
A "Blast from the Past" leads to a new basketball fan, and an anticipation of things to come.
1. Back in the late 80s, I retired from the produce business, sold the company to its employees, and went back to college (University of Tennessee at Chattanooga), and received another degree in Education in 1990.
2. I did my student teaching at Chattanooga School for the Arts and Sciences (CSAS).
3. I taught American History in the upper school until Mayre and I moved to St. Simons in 1995.
4. While at CSAS, my friend Mark Dragoo, who was, and still is, Athletic Director at the school, gave me the opportunity to coach Cross Country and Baseball. Mark was head Basketball Coach for the Patriot Boy's team.
Fast Forward to the Present (with some facts)
1. After Carolyn and I married in 2019, I became full time in Chattanooga.
2. In February of 2020, she and I volunteered to help staff the welcome desk at the BX, which is the conference and athletic center at our church, Brainerd Baptist.
Now let's look at a story that took place over the past couple of weeks.
While working our Monday shift at the BX, primarily checking in BX members who want to use the facilities, I noticed a name on the computer screen. I knew that name, Phillip Moss, and I wondered if I might have know him in the past.
When he came back into the lobby, I walked over and asked if he might be the boy (man now) who was at CSAS back in the early 90s. He answered with a question, "Weren't you my history teacher there?"
We determined that we did remember each other, and that I had been on my student teaching assignment during that 1991 basketball season when he was playing on the team that went to the State Championships.
We talked about family, about school, and basketball. I remembered him playing and asked about the present team and coach. He said that Mark was still there, still coaching, and the team was beginning the District basketball tournament the next week. The games would be played at CSAS.
When I asked Carolyn if she would like to watch a game, she enthusiastically answered in the affirmative, and we made our plans.
The Patriots won that game over Sale Creek. Although they lost the Championship game to Lookout Valley. they did qualify for the Region tournament, which would be on the next Saturday, in the CSAS gym.
The opponent in the first game of the Region was from Sunbright, a small town west of Knoxville, and the CSAS boys won that game. The next game, also at CSAS, was against Oneida, another town in the Knoxville area, and that game was last night.
Well, we were there again, and, although the home team lost, it was a good game, and a close one. Mark was coaching a young team with few upperclassmen, and a host of sophs and freshmen.They acquitted themselves very well.
We had watched three games in that short span of time, and enjoyed the atmosphere of high school basketball. Carolyn, who was not a big fan of sports, was very much "into the games".
Mark had coached at the school for 30 years and they school had named the basketball court in his honor.
Even though it had been a losing effort, the best way to top off the evening would always be some Krystals and fries.
And sports conversation about the game with my charming wife, who is waiting anxiously for the 2020-21 season to begin.
A "Blast from the Past" leads to a new basketball fan, and an anticipation of things to come.
Saturday, February 8, 2020
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