Having a gloomy, rainy, chilly day here. I’m feeling a bit short of attention today as I work through my list of things to do. So, rather than fight my need to keep switching activities and topics, or judge myself too harshly for feeling like I’m all over the place, I’m going with the flow of the mishmash in my brain and am offering an assortment of tidbits. Random-ish, but in a way, all connected.
Here are two parenting-related posts by other writers I’ve enjoyed recently:
Don’t Carpe Diem by Glennon Melton.
Welcome to the Club: What Only Moms Really Know by Lisa Belkin.
And, especially for all you writer/artist/independent freelance- work-at-home – folks, here’s On Getting Out of Our Own Way by one of my favorite writers/authors, Dani Shapiro.
And now for the bits and pieces of recent days…
Before the snow arrived last weekend, Max and I found these frozen raccoon paw prints in our back yard.
Then it snowed, and Ringo and I did some bird watching.
I put some crackers on the deck for the birds.
I like the way colors look against the snow. Sadly, I wasn’t able to capture a shot of the super fast flying Cardinals, but since this flower pot was still, I got this instead.
And Max caught snowflakes
This week, I noticed this peace quilt made by Max’s class celebrating Martin Luther King, Jr.
I used to knit and sell scarves but haven’t done that in a while. A friend just ordered one. It feels good to be knitting again.
And lastly, a poem that inspires me to “keep swimming” as Nemo said in the movie Finding Nemo, or “keep on continuing” (as Max has said):
The Way It Is by William Stafford
(from The Way It Is, New and Selected Poems)
There’s a thread you follow. It goes among
things that change. But it doesn’t change.
People wonder about what you are pursuing.
You have to explain about the thread.
But it is hard for others to see.
While you hold it you can’t get lost.
Tragedies happen; people get hurt
or die; and you suffer and get old.
Nothing you do can stop time’s unfolding.
You don’t ever let go of the thread.
“The Way It Is” from The Way It Is, New and Selected Poems, by William Stafford, Greywolf Press