Pitter-Patter

That’s the sound the rain makes when it comes down lightly. It’s the sound that I awoke to this morning. Thursday it was not pitter-patter but a thundering sound. In all about 5.5 inches of rain has been measured at my house since Wednesday evening/Thursday morning.  That’s a lot of moisture.  Needless to say everything is looking very green and healthy.

Abundant growth!

The previously planted pots on the deck have grown considerably.  The perennials in the front garden are doing very well. The hostas are enjoying the cooler weather. The rabbit is still hungry! Why don’t the rabbits like weeds? Why do the rabbits only like things you plant for which you have spent money and would really like to see grow?

A few years ago hollyhocks were spotted at the Farmers’ Market.  They brought back memories of the years of my youth.  My mother had hollyhocks in the side yard. The were an endless source of entertainment because one could make figures out of the flowers and seed pods and a toothpick. So, being a kind of sentimentalist I couldn’t resist buying some hollyhocks and planting them in the front garden.  They existed amongst the other plants for the first year.  The next years a couple of leaves reappeared but no flowers.  This year I have hollyhocks. Takes me back to the days of my youth.

This is also the time of year that the lilacs have faded away. My neighbor’s French lilac tree has come into bloom. It’s beautiful with a copious number of flowers.

My relatives from two doors down the street stopped by on their way home as I was looking at the boulevard/parking/whatever you call it, determining that I needed to acquire more rock to cover the bare spaces between the plantings. As I conveyed my thoughts to them they said “we have rock. Do you want some?” So out came the wheelbarrow and the shovels and we began to move rock.  We were grateful it was a cool day. I’m grateful that part of the offending patch of the yard has been improved. What a nice gift!

This was the first of two weeks off from chemotherapy.  Labs were on Monday so not a week passed without visiting the hospital at least once! Bloodwork all looked good according to the doctor.  My red cells/platelets are still low but that is typical of a patient on chemo I’m told.

Day Lillies in bloom

The refrigerator has been repaired, sort of.  The needed part came in and was installed on Wednesday. Now I have no water or ice so there’s another wait while the repair person finds a space in his schedule to return. Items are gradually migrating from the lower level fridge to the main level. I get some exercise running up and down the stairs. I presume that’s good for me.

It’s the time of the summer solstice.  In the Scandinavian countries this is a big deal. In Sweden, as I’ve personally witnessed, a good time is had by all as the public parties through the night. I spent one midsummer with friends at a celebration in the country. There were several concerts, one of which gave a semi-religious cast to the whole affair. There were lots of dances, folk and otherwise. I think we packed it in between 3 and 4 AM.  Others were still going strong. 

Tiny little blooms on a new planting

The Church celebrates the birth of John the Baptist on the 24th. Somehow this feast became associated with the solstice. Perhaps it was John’s word in the gospel that Jesus must increase and John must decrease. Perhaps at one time the calendar set the solstice on the 24th. Christmas used to be the winter solstice festival until it “got religion.” It’s kind of fascinating to me that “pagan” holidays became Christianized and then became basically pagan holidays once again. Something to ponder.

The nation and the world are in seeming tumult over pandemics, racial equality and other issues.  One day this past week the Henri Nouwen meditation centered on compassion, one things that is demonstrated very sparingly by many. I share it with you in the hope that all of us can become more compassionate people.

“Compassion is Being With

Let us not underestimate how hard it is to be compassionate. Compassion is hard because it requires the inner disposition to go with others to the place where they are weak, vulnerable, lonely, and broken. But this is not our spontaneous response to suffering. What we desire most is to do away with suffering by fleeing from it or finding a quick cure for it. As busy, active, relevant [people], we want to earn our bread by making a real contribution. This means first and foremost doing something to show that our presence makes a difference. And so we ignore our greatest gift, which is our ability to enter into solidarity with those who suffer. . . .

Those who can sit with their fellow man, not knowing what to say but knowing that they should be there, can bring new life into a dying heart. Those who are not afraid to hold a hand in gratitude, to shed tears of grief, and to let a sigh of distress arise straight from the heart can break through paralyzing boundaries and witness the birth of a new fellowship, the fellowship of the broken.”

Somedays being cute is the best thing

It’s been a quiet week with some things accomplished so I won’t feel as though I’ve done nothing. I don’t like to feel that I’ve done nothing as the week ends. Thanks for being with me by reading this blog.  Thank you once again for your prayers and your thoughts.