Thursday, March 31, 2011

fun for the whole family: blogger dynamic views




















So how many of you have already discovered this neat new Blogger trick? If you have a public blog and the settings are just right, someone can simply type in "view" after your blog url and have lots of fun with the way they view your blog. From mosaic to flipcard to snapshot, it's an almost limitless realm of viewing possibilities!

Here's an example: "http://letajoykeepyou.blogspot.com/view"

(I'm sick and it's storming outside, so you'll have to forgive me if I seem a little overexcited about this discovery. It's a great momentary distraction from thinking about how bad I feel.)

If you want to know more about setting up your blog for dynamic viewing, find simple instructions here.


Monday, March 28, 2011

spring rain

the rain
          pours
                 down
on the young green things
while thunder 
plays the kettle drum.
spring peepers sing
their happy little rain songs; 
the squirrel unfurls his umbrella-tail
in the lee of the big oak.
i hear pages turning in the next room,
the dog sleeps
and lights bloom golden
against the dark,
as the rain
              pours
                     down.

Saturday, March 26, 2011




You can only come to the morning through the shadows.  —J.R.R. Tolkien

Thursday, March 24, 2011

intimidation








































little red car


sitting alone by


the grand hotel,


do you hide


your racing stripes


in shame?



Wednesday, March 23, 2011

corner view: four-legged

The dog barks backward without getting up.
I can remember when [she] was a pup
— Robert Frost



What counts is not necessarily the size of the dog in the fight; 
it's the size of the fight in the dog.
— 
Dwight D. Eisenhower



I think dogs are the most amazing creatures; they give unconditional love. 
For me they are the role model for being alive.
— 
Gilda Radner



I am his Highness' dog at Kew;
Pray tell me, sir, whose dog are you?
—Alexander Pope



Let Hercules himself do what he may,
The cat will mew and dog will have [her] day.
—William Shakespeare



(linking to francesca for "corner view")

Tuesday, March 22, 2011

secrets revealed...

Once upon a time, a very long time ago, I was in love with the color pink. And I decided that my kitchen should be pink. With pink floor tile. Which is very permanent. So guess what color my kitchen cabinets still are? 


Nobody had to know this. My secret was safe with me, my family, and a few close friends, until my daughter decided to become a writer. Here's where she revealed my deep, dark secret to the world (and said a bunch of clever things along the way...)

Monday, March 21, 2011

Faith is the bird that feels the light
and sings when the dawn is still dark.
~Rabindranath Tagore


































"Hear my cry, O God;
listen to my prayer.
From the ends of the earth I call to you,
I call as my heart grows faint;
lead me to the rock that is higher than I.
For you have been my refuge,
a strong tower against the foe.
I long to dwell in your tent forever
and take refuge in the shelter of your wings.

Psalm 61:4

The dawn is still dark for the people of Japan. When everything has been stripped away, the singing bird of faith and hope often grows silent. Yet there are so many generous hearts, offering to awaken hope through the gift of a helping hand. If you want to reach out your hand, you might consider Shelterbox. Here is what they do, in their own words:

The ShelterBox solution in disaster response is as simple as it is effective. We deliver the essentials a family needs to survive in the immediate aftermath of a disaster. Each large, green ShelterBox is tailored to a disaster but typically contains a disaster relief tent for an extended family, blankets, water storage and purification equipment, cooking utensils, a stove, a basic tool kit, a children’s activity pack and other vital items.

To offer refuge until the disaster has passed. What better way to awaken hope? If you are interested you can donate directly to Shelterbox, or to a team that is raising funds to buy one or more shelterboxes for families in Japan.

Friday, March 18, 2011

in which violet buys some earrings.



They were her new favorite earrings. She'd bought them out of insecurity over her new glasses, the ones with the red plastic frames. Somehow none of her delicate little stud earrings fit her new, indie look, and she wanted something different. 


They were hanging on a rack at a street fair, the first fair of spring. A crabby man with a yellowing beard was selling them, and he shouted at her when she asked him to repeat the price. "Do you want them or not?" She did. Even though he was rude and even though she was spending the last of her grocery money. Who needed food when you could wear turquoise and silver flowers dangling from your ears? She had plenty of cereal left, anyway.


Did the spring day have anything to do with it? The scent of orange blossoms was drifting over from someone's garden, mixing with lavender and patchouli from the herbal soap vendor. There was a faint salt tang in the breeze from the harbor. It made her feel rich; expansive. She wanted to stop and pet all the dogs and kiss the babies and hug the homeless lady dancing by the jazz band. She wanted to dance, herself, wearing her new turquoise earrings and her indie glasses. But she was too shy, so she contented herself with clapping for the homeless lady and tapping her feet to the music. And a lab came up and licked her hand.


Still, it was a grand day. A real keeper, as her father would say. At the moment she was even content with her name.


(read part three here, or click the label at the end of this post.)



Wednesday, March 16, 2011

You must have been warned against letting the golden hours slip by; 
but some of them are golden only because we let them slip by.
—James M. Barrie


I think I'll let a few golden hours slip by over the next few days,
just because Mr. Barrie is right and because
my eyes are getting a bit square from staring at the computer.
See you soon?

Monday, March 14, 2011

magpie tales: violet

photo courtesy of tess kincaid

Her name was Violet. She should have been pale and fragile, dark hair framing a face with a little pointed chin and huge eyes, “limpid pools,” as the old romantics would say. But she wasn’t. Not any of those things. She was tall and large-boned, and hearty. Her mouth was too wide and her laugh too loud. She was apt to say odd things in public places.

 She would have chosen Penthesilea, if it was up to her. The Amazon woman killed by Achilles. They could have called her “Pen,” for short, and she would have liked that. As it was, her boss called her “Vi,” which she hated, and her mother called her “Letty,” which was even worse. 

Perhaps she would change it when she was 21.


(for part two, click here)


linking to magpie tales

Sunday, March 13, 2011

waiting in the car on a sunday afternoon





we took the dog for a walk by the water, then stopped by the market to buy some vegetables for dinner. dog and i stayed in the car, people watching, listening to music and playing with the macro lens. did you ever think a dog could have so many whiskers?

keats, on beauty in the dark

A thing of beauty is a joy for ever:
Its loveliness increases; it will never
Pass into nothingness; but still will keep
A bower quiet for us, and a sleep
Full of sweet dreams, and health, and quiet breathing.

Therefore, on every morrow, are we wreathing
A flowery band to bind us to the earth,
Spite of despondence, of the inhuman dearth
Of noble natures, of the gloomy days,
Of all the unhealthy and o'er-darkened ways
Made for our searching: yes, in spite of all,
Some shape of beauty moves away the pall
From our dark spirits.

— John Keats

linking to recuerda mi corazon, joining in prayers for japan

Friday, March 11, 2011

black (last day in a week of colors with fuoriborgo)

 

black and white puppy love


full moon on a black night


black geometry against a blue sky


...and a little black dress for a special occasion.

(visit francesca for more views of the color black)



Thursday, March 10, 2011

green


a river trip


taken several years ago


brought some peaceful green moments


and some not so peaceful —


the color of the day is "green." join francesca for more...



Tuesday, March 8, 2011

yellow


yellow sunsets


yellow flowers


yellow china


yellow centers 


yellow flames


another day in a week of colors with francesca...


Monday, March 7, 2011

pink







































joining francesca for "pink" monday 


(because you know i needed an excuse to post just one more azalea photo)



Sunday, March 6, 2011

sabbath everyday...

sabbath rest.
i used to wonder what that meant,
and i still don’t know,
fully.
but i think it is the opposite of
fear
striving
sweating
analyzing
rationalizing
agonizing —

perhaps it is closer to
accepting
yielding
surrendering
receiving
loving —

and being loved

"There remains, then, a Sabbath-rest for the people of God; for anyone who enters God's rest also rests from his own work, just as God did from his"  —Hebrews 4: 9-10


linking to michelle at graceful

Saturday, March 5, 2011

low tide...



thought you might want a break from all those flower photos :)


Wednesday, March 2, 2011

of matisse fish and carpet fringe...







































the azaleas are blooming.

every spring, they bloom, and every spring, i think of my grandmother. of the year we took a cruise together, grandma, cousin ann, and me. i, freshly married and dreading a week of separation from my love; my cousin a seasoned wife, mother and traveler; and grandma a veteran of life in general. we sailed out of the gulf and into the turquoise wonder of the carribbean, wearing our tropical colors and orange life vests for the safety drills and big dark sunglasses. we climbed jamaican waterfalls and sat in sunny squares watching mexican school children skip rope and floated in warm, translucent waters while matisse fish swam beneath us.

and then we came home, and grandma sat looking out the window at the azaleas blooming fuschia, and watched me cleaning my little house and combing the fringe on the rugs so it would be perfect. and she laughed and told me, "you won't do that once you have children,"
and she was right.


linking to imperfect prose



Tuesday, March 1, 2011

love on a rainy day


captivated.
by life new-born —
fragile,
dew-kissed,
feathery nascence,
on a rainy 
morning.




linking to one shot wednesday

round two


"Casting all your care on Him; for He cares for you."
— I Peter 5:7

(praying for my mom as she undergoes a second heart stenting procedure today)