Winery
We just returned from a visit to Peaks of Otter, Virginia, my personal Garden of Eden, and, as always, I discovered something new. The old was there, of course—Sharp Top is immutable and, I expect, will remain for thousands of years to come. For the first time ever, though, we visited the Peaks of Otter Winery and Johnson’s Orchards. George and I were the only guests present, so we commanded full attention from the guy giving the wine-tastings. Said his name was Shannon; later, from their website, we realized his name was Shannon Johnson. (Johnson’s Orchards, remember?) He was keen on knowing our names, which we shared: George and Karen. He insisted that I try his wine, though we had told him I wasn’t a wine-drinker. I tasted one—burned the tip...
Bridesmaid
I dressed conservatively as a teen, never comfortable showing a bit more skin that necessary and avoiding the company of those who revealed too much. Which explains why I made my friend, Alta, change from a tight low-cut top to a more modest one before we went to a basketball game our senior year in high school. She really loved me to willingly put that purple leotard top back in her drawer. Though best friends, our styles continued to differ through college and on to the era of our weddings. Before I even glimpsed the bridesmaid gown Alta had selected for her wedding, she was on her knees begging me to wear it in spite of what it would reveal. The dress, a pale pink knit, was a halter dress, showing bare shoulders with no place for bra straps. A cut-out lace...
Cherry
A cherry is a small round fruit that grows on a tree. It draws attention because of its pretty red color. This handy little fruit has nutritional value as well, contributing to a good night’s sleep, reduced inflammation, and improved heart health. Cherries are good. I just don’t want them growing on me–like the red spots that currently live on my abdomen and thighs. I had to do research to learn that these tiny blood blisters are called cherry angiomas. When you see the word, cherry, you expect a good thing. I can’t say anything good about these spots, except that they keep me from wearing a bikini. For which other beach-goers are thankful. Apparently, these things appear as people grow older which is why, my research shows, they’re...
The Letter
A letter came announcing the Inaugural Event of the Senior Adult Ministry at my church. It’s appropriate, I suppose, since 200 members have achieved senior status. The ministry will encourage folks to serve together and care for each other, keeping in mind the unique interests and needs of this segment of our membership. I don’t need Depends yet—not to say I won’t in the near future. But I think my needs aren’t much different than those of a 50-year-old or even a 40-year-old. Do you know something I don’t know, church leaders? Is that even possible, since I’m older than all of you? Or am I the queen of denial? I’m sure the spirit behind the letter is good, as is the heart of the dear pastor who wrote it. Caring for others is...
Pee
I do not like cat pee. Sadly, I’ve been dealing with it for a while. And I’m tired. So tired. Cats are territorial, which creates difficulties when you try to introduce a mature cat into a home that already has mature cats. They don’t want to share space. Or litter boxes. When my son taught school for two years in Mississippi, he gave the name Crookshanks to the small cat he took in, the one who greeted him at the end of each day and gave him a sense of family. She was an odd little animal who held her head at an awkward angle and had a broken tooth, perhaps from being hit by a car. She was Chris’s faithful companion and he couldn’t leave her behind when he finished his program and returned home to prepare for his wedding. After...
Silence
I am learning something about words and silence. Namely, that I need to use fewer words and be silent more often. Verbally expressing what is in our hearts may serve to extinguish the fire in our souls. Though the words we say might be good, encouraging words, letting them out somehow reduces their intensity. As Henri Nouwen discusses so beautifully in The Way of the Heart, citing references from Vincent van Gogh and Diadochus of Photiki, when we leave the door open, the heat inside the room rapidly dissipates. I experienced this recently when, in my excitement over God’s leading and a resulting wonderful outcome, I spoke about it. The friends with whom I shared were close as sisters and have frequently joined me in prayer. Even so, the sharing diminished...
Earring
Where did it go? That’s the question when the earring you’re about to attach to your ear lobe slips from your grasp. While you’re sitting on the toilet. Not everyone can accessorize while using the bathroom, but I’m a multi-tasker. Sometimes that can be risky. I had just finished arranging my orange/red infinity scarf around my neck atop my black shirt. The shiny gold strands would go well with my gold teardrop earrings, I thought, so I grabbed their small velvet box on my way to the restroom. Soon as I was seated, I removed one and that’s when it happened. Dropped it. So simply. So quickly. Did it fall inside my shirt? My bra? Was it hidden within the folds of my scarf? In my underwear? Did it slip between my thighs and land in the...
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