Words to live by . . . . .

 

Happiness is not a station to arrive at . . . 

but a manner of traveling.

 



 

 

Pictures from my last road-trip to south-central Oklahoma.

Loving how green it still is even in late August.

 

Quote by Margaret Lee Runbeck
To read more
http://www.margaretalmon.com/margaret-lee-runbeck1905-1956-going-on-heart-first/

 



To our knees . . . .

Six years ago, I started a blog (Prairie Homestead) - and in my second post, I wrote about about a spring storm and what it means to live in Oklahoma - in the middle 'tornado alley'.
http://prairiehomestead.blogspot.com/2007/03/surprises-ugly-bad.html

Spring storms are a fact of life here on the Southern Plains - but, yesterday's storm brought us to our knees -- in shock over the loss of lives and in prayer for strength to continue. 

And, then we stood up and continued with the rescue and recovery.  Soon we will lay our loved ones to rest and begin the process of rebuilding - may our faith keep us strong today and in the weeks/months ahead. 



http://newsok.com/another-storm-another-prayer-for-gods-mercy-on-oklahoma/article/3828035
And, because I'm not sure how long the above link with be available - I copied/pasted the text below(my apologies to The Daily Oklahoman).

Another storm, another prayer for God's mercy on Oklahoma

 

The Oklahoman Editorial | Published: May 21, 2013 Oklahoman  

 

A row of backpacks on hooks in a roofless grade school corridor.  This is just one of many images that will stay with us because they represent the horror without actually being the horror. The fate of the students, the fate of their teachers. The fears of parents helpless to help when their children needed them the most.

May 20, 2013.
So accustomed are Oklahomans to severe weather warnings that Sunday's tornado outbreak took a while to get our attention. Then came Monday. Then came comparisons to May 3, 1999. Then came images of storm path charts showing where the two tornadoes crossed, a common point separated by 14 years and a thousand indelible memories.
Then came the image of the backpacks at a Moore school reduced to rubble in a flash.
It will be ages before anyone questions the need for frequent program interruptions and those annoying weather maps on the bottom of television screens. Our colleagues in broadcast journalism deserve high praise taking the threat seriously from the moment a funnel cloud began its descent near Moore.
Meteorologists had advised of the possibility a major storm was brewing, but they couldn't say for sure. The tornado bisque they described boiled over. We viewed in horror a grim repeat of that May 1999 “storm of the century,” a pristine cone turning nasty and black as it wrapped itself in dark rain and ground our bones to make its bread.
How awesome and furious was this fresh show of celestial fury, in a different century yet seemingly in the same place. That more lives weren't lost on that Monday and this one is a tribute to the preparedness that Oklahomans have built into their thinking.
Now come the sad stories, the heartrending deaths of young and old, the miracles and the survivals, as the black funnel wraps itself in grief. Now come the recovery, the selfless deeds, the sacrificial giving and the comforting words.
This is a time when patience is the supreme virtue and thoughtfulness second to none. Homes will be rebuilt and families brought back together, but it will take years to restore normalcy. Talk of closure and healing is premature.
The hurts are impaled on our consciousness. The wrath of weather on full display reminds us that there are forces that do not answer to man. We are at their mercy and all we can do is ask for mercy.
Most of us were spared in 1999, but the next time came for new victims. Next time we could be the ones to lose homes and loved ones, who have an unclaimed backpack on the hooks in a roofless corridor.
This is all more reason to stay prepared, to stay tuned to weather alerts but also to stay attuned to a Greater Power that rules our lives and calls forth nature. Through death and destruction, in chaos and calamity, but also in recovery and redemption, God is in control.
Have mercy — once again — on Oklahoma, O Lord! Let your peace prevail. May your grace shower the city and wrap it in light. Help us share the suffering and make our hands yours to rebuild shattered communities and lives.
Selah.
This editorial by Opinion Editor J.E. McReynolds is adapted from “The Storm — and a prayer” published May 5, 1999.

 

My therapy . . . .

ther•a•py

n., pl. -pies.

1. the treatment of disease or disorders, as by some remedial, rehabilitative, or    curative process: speech therapy.

2. a curative power or quality.

3. any act, task, program, etc., that relieves tension.

This bag of  'therapy'  supplies was purchased two weeks ago from my local yarn shop. I spent a couple of hours, petting and fondling the yarns, talking knitting with the shop owner and her staff.  I drove home, did some weekend chores and a bit of creative sewing and the yarn was stashed in my knitting bag and forgotten.

And, then this past week I had need for my little bag of 'therapy supplies'  to perform an  'act, task, program, etc, that relieves tension'.   The absolutely senseless bombings in Boston, the poison laced letters mailed to a Senator & our President, the defeat of the gun bill in the senate, and, the news of an explosion that ripped through the little community of West, Texas.  Like most of America, I felt bruised, battered and my heart ached. 

I  clicked away from the constant news channels and onto a DIY home improvement show.  With the television volume on low, the skeins of yarn were wound into balls, needles chosen and stitches cast on -- I so needed that gentle rhythm of yarn & needles, working together.  Knitting to me is a form of meditation - my mind clears and my spirit lifts.  The needles make a soft clicking sound that is music to my ears - my body relaxes and my hands seem to perform the motions required almost on their own.  And, as the yarn and needles make cloth out of strands of yarn  --  I think of all those in need of comfort and strength -- and, my meditation turns to prayer.  

Thankful . . . . .

There is so much to be thankful for . . . .

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yoygmylt2iM

Somedays we forget
To look around us
Somedays we can't see
The joy that surrounds us
So caught up inside ourselves
We take when we should give.

So for tonight we pray for
What we know can be.
And on this day we hope for
What we still can't see.
It's up to us to be the change
And even though we all can still do more
There's so much to be thankful for.

Look beyond ourselves
There's so much sorrow
It's way too late to say
I'll cry tomorrow
Each of us must find our truth
It's so long overdue

So for tonight we pray for
What we know can be
And every day we hope for
What we still can't see
It's up to us to be the change
And even though we all can still do more
There's so much to be thankful for.

Even with our differences
There is a place we're all connected
Each of us can find each other's light

So for tonight we pray for
What we know can be
And on this day we hope for
What we still can't see
It's up to us to be the change
And even though this world needs so much more

There's so much to be thankful for

Don't foget to Vote !

Not matter how much money you have in your pocket, or the color of your skin or where you worship.  Young or old, male or female, Republican or Democrat (or Independent, Green Party, or Libertarian).

Remember in that voting booth today, we all have the freedom to cast our one vote.
And, by doing so --  we not only vote for the future - we honor the past.

Everyone has a story . . . some stranger than others

Sometimes I see people here in the City and wonder 'what's their story?'  Because you know, in a lot of cases,  it's got be doozy.  For example: Monday night on my drive home I saw a car with all sorts of bumper stickers, all inviting Aliens to come to Earth.  That was strange enough, but the owner of the car (for the record - the driver was male) had drawn alien pictures all over the back glass -- Aliens jumping around, waving, smiling -- very odd indeed.

You have to wonder about the gentlemen driving this vehicle - and his story.
Is he a big SciFi fan?
Is he promoting a business dealing in Alien memorabilia?
Perhaps he is an Alien and wants to go home?
All these things went through my mind as I was smiling at his Alien art-work.

But what really made me laugh was the 'Obama-Biden' bumper sticker tucked in among all the Aliens.  I'm sure this isn't what the Obama-Biden volunteers pictured when they were passing out bumper stickers?!! 

Note:  Sorry no picture of the 'Alien Car' - by the time I thought to take a picture -  the Aliens made a right turn and were gone. 

Big or small . . .

This week, with Spring rapidly approaching, I packed away all my flannel pants and matching fleece tops.,  While folding and packing -- I thought of how often I give thanks for the big things in my life - but, seem to take the small things for granted : 

- the clean blue skies here on the Prairie,

- the smell of coffee brewing in the morning, 

- my comfy flannels & how they helped keep me warm through cold winter months

- the sights of spring just outside my door (my daffodils are blooming !)

- and, of course, my comfy cottons that will carry me thru until the flannels come out again next fall. 

Starting today -- 

may I remember to be truly grateful for all the blessings in my life - big or small.

“Gratitude can transform common days into thanksgivings, turn routine jobs into joy,

and change ordinary opportunities into blessings.”

William Arthur Ward

Words on Monday

The smile on my face doesn't mean my life is perfect.

It means I appreciate what I have

and, what God has blessed me with.

Notes:  Baby quilt made in Stacked Coin Pattern.  Fabric from my stash (with the addition of some OU fabric and a little 'camo' from the baby's Marine Daddy.  

My choice . . . . .

The longer I live, the more I realize the impact of attitude on life. 

Attitude to me, is more important than facts. 

It is more important than the past, than education, than money,

than circumstances, than failures, than successess,

than what other people think, or say or do.

It is more important than appearance, giftedness, or skill. 

It will make or break a company, a church . . . a home.

The remarkable thing is that we have a choice every day

regarding the attitude we will embrace for that day.

We cannot change our past . . .

we cannot change the fact that people will act in a certain way. 

We cannot change the inevitable. 

The only thing we can do is play on the one string we have,

and that is our attitude . . .

I am convinced that life is 10% what happens to me

and 90% how I react to it.

And so it is with you . . .

we are in charge of our attitudes.

Charles R. Swindoll

I don't usually make resolutions --

mainly because I'm probably not going to lose 20 pounds,

or get my house (or sewing, knitting, etc . . ) more organized,

or walk 2 miles every day. 

Just don't think any of that is going to happen. 

But, I do think I can make a determined effort

to take charge of my attitude in the coming year --

and into the next year and the year after,

and so on and so on  . . . .   

Because I truly believe that being happy is a choice



In their debt . . . .

Nobody prays more earnestly for peace than the soldier who goes to war, because nobody knows better the sacrifices that may be required. Yet knowing that, they willingly put on the uniform of the United States military and go forth to defend and protect the rest of us and our freedom here at home. That is what the soldiers, sailors and airmen of the Greatest Generation did, just as it is with our defenders today. There simply is no greater sacrifice, and every American is forever in their debt.

Read more at the San Francisco Examiner: http://www.sfexaminer.com/opinion/editorials/2011/11/veterans-day-time-pause-and-give-thanks#ixzz1dPIaVzcM

 

I can't say it any better than that . . . . .

It's a process . . . .

Grief - like most things in life - goes through a process. 

Denial - Anger - Acceptance - Remembrance  

They all play a part -- some linger longer than others - but, in the end, we need to choose to move on from one to another.  Right now, we are both working through our loss of Muffers and for the most part - we are doing fine. 

In the meantime, our sweet Libby-Lou is helping in any way she can -- she even tried her feline powers with the computer -- she thought Dad needed some assistance.  

Libby thinks we should get a Mac -- she was a huge Steve Jobs fan !!

In his own words . . . .

Your time is limited, so don't waste it living someone else's life... Don't let the noise of other's opinions drown out your own inner voice. And most important, have the courage to follow your heart and intuition. They somehow already know what you truly want to become. Everything else is secondary.”

- Steve Jobs

Sunday Baking

Late Sunday afternoon - the mixing bowl, loaf pans and cookies sheets drying on my kitchen counter. 

I spent most of the day baking --  4 loaves of Cream Cheese Banana Bread and a double batch of Snickerdoodles.   

Note:  The baking was also my attempt to stay away from the television and the constant coverage of the 10th anniversary of 9-11-01.  All the remembering and rehashing was wearing me down and I needed to get away from those sights & sounds.  My family wasn't directly affected by what happened -- and I can't even imagine the feelings of the families who lost loved ones on that awful day.  As I measured and stirred and baked -- my thoughts & prayers were directed to those families. May they have comfort in their memories of their life before -- and the courage to make new memories in here and now.

A blessing . . . .

We had very brief rain storm early yesterday morning. And, even though the moisture made for a steamy afternoon -- the morning was cool -- the air smelled fresh & clean.  I can't tell you what a welcome relief it was after almost 2 weeks of 100 degree temps.  

Later, as I drove into work, I realized that rain this time of year is really a blessing -- which was reinforced by this sight.