Tag Archives: words

Jan6

Follow The Shining Star to Home

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Follow The Shining Star to Home

Family and Friends,

Looking back to 2025 Dean and I along with our families climbed some rough crags. Our hopes are 2026 will bring us some smoother trails.  Early 2025 was very cold.  We got away to southern Arkansas, Texas, and Oklahoma for a February thaw. We visited family, experienced some new sights, museums, and opportunities to curl up in a chair under a blanket and lamp to read. A short fiction story and lyrics for a murder ballad were born from that week-long trip. I have yet to submit these writings to a contest or two. I have been busy. My 2-volume memoir captured most of my afternoons for the first 9 months of 2025.  I have been working on this manuscript since 2021, sent it to my editor, tweaked it several times, then finally published in September and October.  My publisher wanted the manuscript into two or three books; I chose two books. Entitled Strewn Words in the Stew: A Memoir of Recipes, Poems, Short Stories, and Sayings, Volume 1 and Volume 2 can be bought on Amazon/Kindle. Also, they can be found at our St. Charles County local library. These multi-genre books are about my culinary life since my childhood with pages full of recipes, photos, poems, short stories, and sayings. Last year’s word was “seed”, and I would say I planted many seeds with the words God had me share in my books, poems, and blogs.

“For last year’s words belong to last year’s language and next year’s words await another voice.” ~ from T.S. Eliot’s poem, Little Gidding

One of the biggest highlights in 2025 is the birth of our first great-grandson, River Martin in late March. Such a blessing he has brought to the family.  A happy, smiling child!  The timing of his existence on this earth is God sent. My daughter, Rachel became a grandmother with much joy, and my granddaughter, Hannah became a mother for the first time. This family has endured much loss over the past few years. If you may recall, her family’s house burned down Christmas 2022. They had been displaced living in various housing situations as no one could accommodate them all together.  Rachel’s husband, Mick died from a sudden heart attack this past July 4. Their three kids, son-in-law, River Martin, Rachel, and Mick’s parents were there when it happened right after their family’s BBQ dinner that hot day. Devastating.  But I have to say, God is faithful because God is good! Rachel stayed with her in-laws until December when she and the two youngest, Ella and Eli were able to get their own place near town. They still attend to the needs of Mick’s elderly parents. The holidays brought about a few cherished family gatherings. Dean and I love all our grandchildren.

During late summer Dean and I stayed a few days in Virginia relishing in its wonderment. Beautiful country! We loved the history found in the mountain region and Thomas Jefferson’s Monticello. Throughout the year we made a few trips to Kansas City and Farmington to visit family. This year Dean’s kids and grandkids made it to St. Charles for the 4th of July parade and another wonderful family birthday celebration for Dean during Thanksgiving weekend. My sister has parked herself in the Ozarks, on the Missouri side now. We have visited her a couple of times, and Margie has been up our way a couple of times this year. My sister-in-law, Joan is thriving this year after Rick’s death with the support of many family and friends. We have had some quality time with my cousin, Julie and her husband as she moved to the St. Charles area from Chicago area. We made an October trip to Chicagoland for Dean’s youngest brother’s military retirement celebration.  My writing had me at two writers’ conferences, once again in Clarksville, TN where I presented a workshop, and another in Kansas City in October.

Dean’s work at the National Archives keeps him entertained. Yes, he loves his work. The government red tape, not so much. Dean has some neurological problems in his feet and legs. Thankfully, he is not diabetic, but it remains a mystery for the numbness and pain.  More recently physical therapy has helped him.  My culinary work at the local senior center has been very rewarding. I love being with these people. I have encountered physical limitations due to my spine, lumbar and cervical discs misaligned and more recently diagnosed with seronegative rheumatoid arthritis (SNRA). The MRI report for my hands described my hands as deformed. The RA has been going on for a while undetected because my bloodwork doesn’t reveal it.  It was the x-rays and MRI that showed deterioration of many joints including my hands. When pain hollers, listen. The body is saying something important. Physical therapy and medication have helped. And I slowed down. Nothing like being flat on my back for a few days to do that. I cut my work hours back in April, and again into this new year. 

“But few things are needed—or indeed only one. Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken away from her.” ~ Luke 10:42 NIV

This year’s word is “purpose”. This year’s phrase, “living with purpose on purpose while at home.” I will have more “free” time, though I want to be a good steward in what God has called me to.  For this moment it is being still, waiting to hear God, taking care of my whole self, and my husband and loved ones as Mary chose. My writing and volunteer work is still work, “so I need to pace myself”, I am telling the Martha in me.  A February R & R trip to warmer southern air is in the plans. The place is TBD. On this Feast Day of the Epiphany, the baby Jesus was revealed to the whole world. Jesus is Home to each of us, for each of us!  Invite Him into your home, your heart today.  Make every day in 2026 the Epiphany!  Follow The Shining Star to Home!

Oct22

The Countryside and Sycamores

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The Countryside and Sycamores

On Saturday I left home mid-morning to travel about an hour north to Pike County. I had the inkling to enjoy autumn’s superb weather when I heard the weekend forecast. I could have perused the boutiques on historic Main Street or shopped until I dropped. But I wanted to be outdoors. Dean’s mother passed away on October 6 with her burial in St. Joseph, MO last weekend. At last week’s funeral, I reminded myself that it was time for a visit to my parents’ gravesite just outside of Bowling Green, MO. Both my parents and grandfather died during the month of October as well; 11 years, 9 years, and 3 years ago.

The countryside was beautiful, yet I felt a sadness for this occasion. The colors of the leaves and harvesting fields distracted me from my somber mood, but my purpose for this autumn drive was not missed. I took the scenic route following along the Mississippi River. I forgot about all those little towns with speed limits at 30mph. It was enough for me to slow down and refocus for the next leg until the next village. The river that author, Mark Twain wrote about is so wide in many places in Lincoln and Pike Counties. Between the trees I could see it sparkle like diamonds in the sunlight. Although, the many stand-alone sycamore trees caught my attention the most. Even the hillside cemetery had a sycamore.

I said a prayer, asked for forgiveness for some unkind words I recalled I said to my parents many years ago. Some memories were from childhood and others as an adult. Likewise, as memories flood my mind of unkind words my father and mother said to me, I forgive each of them. Those memories help explain my own behaviors as a person. No reason to repeat history with negative words. Simply, be kind to others.

On way back home, I stopped in Clarksville, MO to use the restroom and stretch my legs. I had hoped to grab a sandwich. Not many eateries to choose from, but a clean restroom was a must. A riverside bar & grill had patrons there. A dozen Harleys were parked outside along the curb. I am not a biker, but hoped they welcomed all. The restroom was clean, and the patrons enjoying their food and drink. I love a good grilled sandwich, so I stayed. While eating a delicious chicken club sandwich at the Clarksville, MO bar & grill, words flooded my thoughts, so I wrote them down. Here is the poem:

Sycamores

Scattered hills breathe sadness.

Sadness as they overlook the valleys.

Valleys of withering grasses and emptiness.

Emptiness except for the stand-alone, century old sycamores.

Sycamores with peeling, white-painted bark.

Bark that seems to come apart at the seams.

Seams covered with crimson red sumac vine.

Vines that kept those years together.

Together during the bitter and sweet seasons.

Seasons are many that fill our lives.

Lives interwoven with faith, hope, love, disappointment, grief.

Grief over ill health, blank dreams, and abandoned promises.

Promises made with good intentions.

Intentions distracted with stressors and others’ disregard.

Disregards are many by hurting or hurtful people.

People everywhere breathe sadness.

Sadness dissipates as they look up to the Heavens.

Heaven’s Divine nature made a canopy of colorful leaves.

Leaves are many of those stand-alone, century old sycamores.

Sycamores that still stand alone near the scattered hills.

Jan22

Dormancy

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No winter-like simulation now, it is the real deal.  The winter weather seems to be sticking around for more than a few days.  Icy, sleety, and snowy last week, and again this week dipping into the teens overnight and staying below or close to freezing during the day.  Due to budget constraints our winter vacation week was decidedly best to stay in our home state of Missouri this year.  No expensive sandy beaches to sunbathe on.  Making the most of our budget and what our state has to offer during this winter season, Dean and I chose to visit our state’s Ozark Mountains.  Most of our vacation budget is for a lovely lodge in the woods, the journey there only a 5-hour drive from home.  Home-cooked meals prepared in a well-stocked kitchenette, and an occasional meal out satisfy us both.  Every night a vignette of soft lights dot the mountain sides from the valley we are nestled in.

Dean and I venture out on half-day trips for a couple of days, visiting small towns and cousins.  We went target shooting at an outdoor range one afternoon.  We meander into northern Arkansas part of the week.  Naked hardwood trees, pines, and cedars clothe the mountains along with icicled cliffs and crags much like glittered ornaments.  Flowing valley streams, swooping birds of prey, and cattle feeding in the fields are the only movement around.  Dormancy is what we experience, and what we need. Oxford’s online dictionary defines dormancy … “the state in which a plant is alive but not actively growing” and with this sentence example “dormancy allows woody plants to survive these unfavorable conditions”.  

The quiet, unassuming beauty of the woods in dormancy stills my busy body, mind, and soul.  Very present moment several times each day, a retreat without structure.  Just being, breathing in and out, and audibly awake.  It is not necessary to block out the static and noise of my job, the house, and almost no obligations as I am far enough away from these occupations.  Words come in and out on occasion, Dean and I relating this quiet vacation week to our retirement years.  Some words make a page in my journal, and others are just thoughts in dormancy for a later writing in favorable conditions and more life lived.

This year I am ending the summer season of my wellness career.  The autumn season of my career follows, short and sweet like Missouri’s autumns with the winter season close behind.  The dormant season always emerges into a glorious spring song.  A book of collected letters, Letters To A Young Poet, poet Rainer Maria Rilke urges the young budding poet, Franz Xavier Kappus to look inward and know what motivates his own writing.  Rilke encourages the development of a rich inner life which is the process of creative art. “Be patient toward all that is unsolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves, like locked rooms and like books that are now written in a very foreign tongue. Do not now seek the answers, which cannot be given you because you would not be able to live them. And the point is, to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps you will then gradually, without noticing it, live along some distant day into the answer.” ~ Rainer Maria Rilke, Letters to a Young Poet.  In today’s words, live today, be present moment.  Some answers come eventually.

 

Nov22

Seasons Change

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Autumn has been lovely.  Another late harvest brought in the last of the volunteer arugula and tomatoes early in November.  I was able to capture the sun from the growing season in jars of green tomato marmalade.  Writing took a back door while gathering and prepping the fruits of our labor. The words continued to be gathered in my heart and eventually journaled.  Now winter whispers this crispy morn. I am ready for more steeping hot teas and whipped cream lathered over hot cocoa while writing and reading. Change Is Delicious

Jan10

Doors And Keys

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As I center my thoughts on this new year, I think about the doors and keys to life.  You know those doors of opportunity to knock on, doors to walk through, and finding that prize on the other side of the door.  Scriptures tell us“knock, seek, and you will find”.  At times it feels like multiple knocks before someone slowly creaks the door open with a mutter of a greeting. Other times you barely get a knock in, and  “HELLO, HERE I AM!” like a bright red door. And then there are those times, and no one answers.  Maybe I need to move onto a new address, new door, new opportunity? “When one door closes, another opens” as the saying goes.  There can be a reward for those who are persistent.

Then there are the keys to life.  Author Alex Morritt writes, “Owning fewer keys opens more doors.”   Was he speaking about property ownership, or more about simplifying your life in general?  Maybe both.  In 2016 my quest to simplify and pare down was energizing. I was able to see my immediate surroundings in a new light.  In 2017, it will be more in the area of my thoughts and words. Simplify my thoughts, less analyzing.  Simplify my communiques with fewer words, use more effective ones.  Loving words. Encouragement. God holds “the key to my heart”.  He knows all my thoughts and cares of this life before I even pray them.

What door are you knocking on?  What key will open the door, your life this very day?

Sep17

Communique

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Every day brings a ship,
Every ship brings a word;
Well for those who have no fear,
Looking seaward well assuredOLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA
That the word the vessel brings
Is the word they wish to hear.

This poem by Ralph Waldo Emerson is called Letters.    Letters are a type of communique, a collection of words intended for a person or persons.  Letters have been written for years, centuries, and millenniums.  Their forms have been on stone tablets, metal, wood, paper, electronic mail (e-mail), Messenger, and even the Bible mentions words have been scripted on the heart.  Yes, words are heart matters.  Read a poem, letter, scripture passage, blog post, or journal page, and you can feel the author’s heart.

This poem mentions a hope for the word(s) one wishes to hear.  What do you hope to hear today?  “I love you.”  “I am sorry.”  “I need you.”  “I am okay.”  “I miss you.”  “You are healed.”  “Forgiveness.”  “Thinking of you.” “See you soon.”  “I am trying.” …

The next question:  What word(s) can you share with someone today?  My words to share today are “I love you despite all my imperfections and your imperfections.”

 

Feb9

Papers, Papers, A Plethora of Papers

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So how did paper get to be so overkill? All the junk mail even during the electronic era? Before scrolled pen & ink messages,the typewriter, word processors, and computer words were carved in stone and wood for communication. Story-telling, musical lyrics, and fireside chats rather than books, blogs, and online chats. I’d like to reserve my paper adventures to handwritten “thank you” and “thinking of you” notes using recycled or hand-crafted papers, or papiermache or decoupage trinket boxes or other craft projects recycling greeting cards. Valentine’s Day is just around the corner for a paper creation.Happy Valentine<
With these wintry days time is on my side. I am not working two or three jobs any longer. No greenhouse chores. No pressing family matters to attend to. My allergy to the cold tells me I cannot play outside in the cold. At home and at work, I have a plethora of papers piled in baskets, boxes, trays, and file cabinets. All of which are in need of my attention. Not one paper is of immediacy. It just requires time to make decisions about what stays and gets filed, and what gets purged. I do not consider myself a hoarder, but I am beginning to wonder about myself as of late. Lack of time would be the culprit. But 2015 is the year for repurpose, recycle, and rejuvenation. How many trees can I save? Jonas At The Fireplace
At home, the unwanted papers are a part of an annual fire ritual set aside for a wintry late afternoon using the kitchen fireplace. It is the perfect Sunday afternoon to make split-second decisions before throwing the unwanted papers in the blazing fire or set aside for the files. I guarantee there will be another wintry day for filing. Our feline friends find the whistling of the fire fasinating. My work week has been somewhat subdued considering the kind of weeks and months coming out of 2014. Project deadlines and security issues were priority over these damned papers. To the shredder rather than a fire the excess papers go. I now keep most documents on electronic files. During another lull time, I will organize my computer files.
What paper projects do you create or undertake during the winter months?