Allegory of a Bottle

 

 

   There was once a town named Taunton, and as the Lord was walking through this town, he came across an abandoned field. He was always looking for treasure of any sort, and as He walked along, He saw something. Something dull and dirty, glass, with a hint of cobalt blue. It didn't look like much, but as He dug it out, He noticed something. It wasn't just made out of any glass--it was hand-blown glass. It had potential to be a beauty.

    So the Lord took this bottle, and He washed it until it shone. Then He polished it, and chiseled as some of the rough edges. But He didn't put it on a shelf, as some people do--He picked some flowers and put them inside.

    The Lord's not done with this bottle yet--there's still a few rough edges and chipped places--but as the vessel yields itself to its owner, more and more, the rough places will be smoothed out, and the caked-on dirt will be scrubbed off--until the day the Lord says the work is done.

    Meanwhile, as this fragile vessel awaits his perfection, he finds other bottles who look like he did at one point, and encourages them to yield to the Lord, the Refiner.

    And also, while he waits, he collects brown, green, and blue artifacts, washes them, and puts them on a shelf, which should serve as a daily reminder of who he is--and what he was--and what he will be.

    Do you wonder what people call this bottle of cobalt blue, found by the Lord 44 short years ago? Well, some people call him Paul, some call him Dad--but I call him Grandpa.

    

I Sing the Mighty Power of God

 I sing the mighty pow'r of God,

 That made the mountains rise;

 

That spread the flowing seas abroad,

And built the lofty skies.

 

 

I sing the wisdom that ordained

The sun to rule the day;

 

 

The moon shines full at His command,

And all the stars obey.

 

 

I sing the goodness of the Lord,

That filled the earth with food;

 

 He formed the creatures with His word,

And then pronounced them good.

Lord, how Thy wonders are displayed,

Where'er I turn my eye:

 

 If I survey the ground I tread

Or gaze upon the sky!

 

 There's not a plant or flow'r below,

But makes Thy glories known;

And clouds arise, and tempests blow,

By order from Thy throne;

While all that borrows life from Thee

Is ever in Thy care,

And everywhere that man can be,

Thou, God, art present there.

Amen.

-Isaac Watts

Grammy's Last Gift

   I ran down the flight of creaky cellar steps behind my grandmother and  followed her to a stack of white totes. Six or eight in all, they held all of my great-grandparents' earthly possessions.  The lid to the first tote was pulled off--documents and papers filled it. The lid of another tote was opened--on top lay a purse. Grammy's purse. Once unzipped, fragments  of a life were unearthed--a tissue holder. A hairbrush, with strands of hair still in it. I kept the purse; that black purse with white daisies, which had been given to Grammy by a friend. Later, when I unzipped the outside pocket, I found some coffee sweetener, and beside it, a bag of hardened sugar.

  Another tote was opened--and inside of it, Grandma found a shopping bag. "Oh, Grammy wanted you to have this," she said. It was filled with various balls of yarn, some crocheting hooks, and a couple of unfinished projects. "I had forgotten all about it."

  Other things Grammy had made were in this tote--doilies and dresser scarves. I picked out a few for my sister and me to keep and treasure. One of those dresser scarves now graces the top of my own dresser.

There's not a doily that I use in my room right now that wasn't made by Grammy; how many hours of work she must've put into them! How her fingers, now so still, must have flown!

 

   I wish I had gotten to know the young Grammy--the cooking and crocheting Grammy. The Grammy who could drive instead of being driven. The Grammy who could walk unaided instead of using a walker or a wheelchair. The Grammy who bought us gifts instead of having to give what she had or what was bought for her to give to us.

  But I'm also thankful I got to know the older Grammy--the Grammy who gave me money, but not until I let her give me a kiss. The Grammy  who always said on the phone, "When are you coming to visit? I miss you!" The Grammy who always had a smile for me, who pronounced my name with three syllables instead of its usual two, the Grammy who loved me even when we moved hundreds of miles away.

  And as I finger that yarn, or that intricately-crafted doily, or carry her purse, I smile and remember.

Septober

   So, what have I been doing the past two months, besides pondering printing a magazine?

   I went to Massachusetts for a week to visit my grandparents; we had fun together.

   We went on hikes...

the Gertrude M. Boyden Wildlife Refuge

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Massasoit State Park

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

We also had my cousin over for supper, and visited my great-great aunt and uncle.

Grandma & Grandpa's table, set for company

We went shopping, including Target; Grandma was looking for a Boggle game here.

me with Target's mascot

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I took two different buses home--this is one of them.

 

  My great-grandparents both died in May, so I wasn't able to see them like we usually do when we go down there...but my great-grandmother was still able to give me one last gift during my visit. Stay tuned!😀

What About a Magazine?

   Hello, after a long silence! I have updates to make, including about what I've been up to the past couple months, but until then...what do you think of me starting a magazine? It would be for single women, about topics pertinent to single women. Do you have any name suggestions? Topics you would like covered? Should it be a paper magazine or an e-zine? Don't be afraid to let me know in the comments!

  Stay tuned for more new posts! Thanks for reading!

Sour Times at the Sweet Shop

   The Quiet Photographer (one of my many nicknames) was quietly strolling through a local candy shop when she decided to take some pictures. All the colors blended together were too tantalizing to resist, so she paused at the Lindor chocolates.

                All the colors of the taffy blended together well, and could also be used for backgrounds...

  All this camera clicking was making the owner of this dazzling array quite nervous. She asked me if I needed help, or "why was I taking pictures of the stuff she has for sale"? This, of course, hurt The Quiet Photographer's tender heart (if she may say so) and caused tears. Why was she asked such a question when she was so innocent?

  So, to compensate, she purchased a bag of Sour Rings, which were expensive, but good. And she left, wiser and better.

July Jaunts

  This month, I've taken several excursions--both not far away. The first one was on my bike, beside the high-voltage power lines. Here's a picture of the male osprey I saw, landing on the nest:

  Yesterday, I took a walk at a nearby park; it was about a 3-mile jaunt. Here's the bridge I walked across to get there:

 

   I saw a female mallard duck swimming in the river:

    I noticed a brown creature hopping across the trail. Upon looking closer, I discovered this tiny frog:

  Later, I found a few more. I thought this would make an interesting picture...let me know what you think.😏

 

  
I also walked along the edge of a potato field--here are a few potato blossoms among the million others:

  What kinds of jaunts have you taken this month? Let me know in the comments; don't just read--respond!😊