A LITTLE COLOR IN MY LIFE...

DH thought I needed some brighter shades for my postcard habit. Nines to the rescue with rainbow hues. (If you're peeking over my shoulder, DSIL, the top two (bottom photo) are slated for Angie's angels.)

It's that kind of day...warm like summer; a lazy Monday. Breakfast was cheerios, lunch was PBJ with a glass of milk. DH is off doing charity work. The windows and doors are wide open, the CD player played full blast (over the sewing machine) for a couple hours, but now I'm letting the windchimes and birds entertain me while playing with postcards. The birds sing louder after you've given them a dose of Sarah Brightman or Beethoven Sonatas. I'm sure of it!

A LITTLE SPRING DITTY

It’s beginning to look a lot like Spring Time
Everywhere you go
The bright yellow daffodils
Are dancing upon the hill
And Carolina wrens sing all aglow

It’s beginning to sound a lot like Spring Time
Winds are playing chimes
The willows are wriggling toes
The tulips poke out their nose
And roses stretch before their summer climb

We’re beginning to find the joy of Spring Time
Everywhere we look
The maples are sprouting red
The bunnies will soon be wed
And rippling waters sparkle down the brook

It’s beginning to look a lot like Spring Time
Let those showers pour
For the loveliest gems are found
In the treasures that abound
Near our own front door

[Writing a ditty is fairly simple when the melody/meter of a familiar tune gets stuck in your head:)]

THE NAME GAME

Names are interesting – we labor intensely to choose just the right one for our children, and sometimes wonder 'why didn't we choose?' when they're grown. Nines, for example should have been Nina Marie.

My FIL wanted to name DH "Claude Arthur" so his initials would be CAT. MIL didn't agree, and I'm glad. Wayne David is much better! Of course we did turn around and name our youngest Craig Alan, so it was CAT after all.

I should have been Penelope. I could have been Allison. I ended up Pamela Joan. It all started when mom and Dad decided to call the Brady Twins Penny and Patsy (after discounting Allison and Avanell). Patricia Anne was fine for Patsy; Dad vetoed Penelope. So Pamela it was. Lots of folks don’t know that’s my “real” name; and many who do ask, “Where did Penny come from?” It’s this long story.

So my nickname doesn’t match my real name and most likely leads to an even larger array of nicknames. And I didn’t help matters any when, at about age 13 while confined to bed and looking for new entertainment, I decided [in typical 13-year-old fashion] to change the way I spelled Penny – after all it was a nickname, so what would it matter, right? Peni. It looked so cute when I was 13.

A rose by any other name ... after that this name thing was a widely rambling rose – Pamela on documents, Penny for immediate family, Pam at school, Pammy at piano lessons, Peni among teen-age friends. Add to that P.J. (by preacher P. J. C. for obvious reasons) and Momaly, Mom, Mama and Momma (the kids each have their own name for me, it seems.) One of my bosses solved her dilemma by calling me Peni-Pam. Is this not broad grounds for a first class identity crisis – or even multiple personalities?

Life gets complicated and names are confusing, but you can’t go back to simplify it when you have two precious namesakes - Penijean and Pamela (Pami) - either. Guess I’ll just keep answering to about anything. So call me Peni, call me Pam; spell it anyway you can…Just let me keep clinging to the Brady and Miller family trees.

Thank You, LORD

Just a short note for now about DH's big day in the cath lab.

It was a long procedure, but all went well. One of the new grafts was 99% blocked; and another crucial area was 87% blocked (in several directrions). The first was pretty straightforward, the latter more risky than usual; but Dr. S felt more by-pass urgery was not an option and medicinal therapy would be of little help. So, DH agreed to trying the stents.

DH and Dr. S and THE LORD did quite well. DH's heart now sports five new drug-coated stents and the good doctor predicts he will feel a "considerable difference." And DH may be discharged late today...or tomorrow.

To God be the glory!

IT FLOATS

Some of us remember the time when that was a prized slogan for Ivory soap. DH remembers from his boyhood that the coal miners in his community always took a bar of Ivory soap to the river – it wouldn’t sink to the bottom as they cleaned off their coal masks and gloves before going home after work. I recall Ivory from my childhood too and have to buy a bar just every so often for the comforting scent of it. (It also works well for cleaning out acrylic paint brushes as DS Isobel taught me.)

A couple of weeks ago we had overnight rain that brought the creeks over their banks. When we awoke the next morning, the ice on the creek had shifted. So, it floats. Ice, that is. Some of these slabs were 8-10 inches thick, which made DH feel not quite so reckless about walking across the creek when it was frozen. Dealing with the flotsam was no problem. It took way over a week, but once a warm day or two marched by, it melted.

My February sewing kinda waned (read Wayned) to the extent of a few postcards and one quilt top. The blocks are all together and the borders are cut for the quilt, so that’s a one-day finishing project. Having restocked a few postcard supplies, I managed to finish the stitching on a dozen yesterday…something of a record, as five a day was my max before. I’m still not totally satisfied with the quality of my postcards, but most are nice enough to mail and the more I mail, the more practice I get.

The heart patient is out with his chain saw. He’s scheduled for another heart cath next week, and this time the doctor did not include the instruction, “Take it easy until we get this done.” That instruction has always been part and parcel of pre-cath agenda, so I’m thinking it was an oversight. DH won’t buy that! Actually DH says running the chain saw isn’t all that strenuous…I’m thinking it’s denial or his way of working off anxiety. Maybe both. At least this week it has been the small chainsaw on nuisance saplings and such – much smaller than the 100+-year old white oak. I helped him a little yesterday afternoon and I’m buying “not strenuous” for about the same price he’s buying “take it easy.”

DRAW FROM THE SPRINGS...

...of salvation, give thanks to His high and holy Name...

Sometimes I think it is the simple things of earth that best remind us of heavenly majesty. The sound of rippling water, wind in the trees and bird songs; the spicy smell of moss on the rocks and the fresh scent of the woods after rain; watching the sun and moon rise and set.

Perhaps these are the pleasures I knew first, here in the WV hills. They are certainly among my dearest treasures in life as I know it at Teelside.

Look for the Lord...He is where you are today.