Jesus, You know that when The Weather Channel trumpets dire snowstorm warnings, I shrug and expect a flurry or two. This time, though, You joined forces with the meteorologists for a major surprise. OMG, thank You for a warm house and my snow-shoveling hero who doesn’t mind that my wussy efforts can’t compare to his.
Thank You, Lord, for Mrs. Rose of Sharon, my petite bush buddy in our backyard. She and I have faded as our summer blooming seasons have turned to autumn. But OMG, thank You that both of us can stick out our tongues at approaching winter because You’ve promised us Resurrection!
Jesus, I’m sure You take great delight in the animals You created. But though we live in town. many pawprints in our snowy yard indicate we are running a nature preserve. I understand they are foraging for food during these cold, wintry months. But OMG, come spring, when our garden sprouts and flowers bloom—and their food supply increases—could You please tell them that if they’re looking for the Golden Corral, they’re at the wrong address.
Images by Walter Antonio Boeger, Dmitry Abramov, and rabzil from Pixabay.
Should I bother with a spring to-do list?
This past winter, I could have scraped old wallpaper in three rooms. Instead, I read books. Enriching my mind inspires me so much more. Hubby’s enriched his mind too, finishing a thousand-page book on American history.
We’ve enriched our minds so much we’ve lost them — when recalling winter to-do lists. But a little repression never hurt anyone.
Besides, it’s spring. Why waste time indoors when we can stay outdoors?
Between snowstorms and tornadoes, I mean.
The only problem: our enriched minds cannot agree on priorities.
Items on his spring to-do list:
My list:
Do Hubby and I share any common items on our to-do lists? A few:
Maybe we should put these — and, of course, enriching our minds — at the top of our spring to-do lists.
Your Extraordinary Ordinary: What’s on your list?
Image by DC Williams from Pixabay
O Lord, splurging on this one steaming cup of hot chocolate, I never realized one Aztec king, Montezuma III, drank 50 — spiked with chili peppers — daily. OMG, even this chocaholic realizes a person can want too much of a good thing!
Image by brian261 from Pixabay.
Image by noname_13 from Pixabay.
Jesus, today, one more survey popped up on my screen, asking my dog’s opinion of winter. You know I don’t have a dog. But if I did, perhaps he’d agree there are too many surveys in this world.
Image by Claudia from Pixabay.
Instead, shouldn’t humans, canines and all creation ask the bigger and better question:
OMG, what do You think?
Image by sspieh3 from Pixabay.
Have you already decorated your Christmas tree(s)?
Not me. Pumpkins, fall leaves and acorns still adorn my fireplace mantels and front door.
This decorating delay doesn’t indicate inefficiency on my part — perish the thought! It does reflect autumn’s short season. Thanksgiving items are placed on clearance before kids trick-or-treat.
Given that many hate winter, why do we forget fall so fast? Why not linger in Thanksgiving Land?
It was wild and wonderful, wasn’t it?
Even if I had to shovel out spare rooms and wash sheets.
Even if wrestling the defiant turkey into the oven resembled a Friday Night SmackDown sans tights and sparkles.
Even if appliances didn’t feel blessed. Our disposal rebelled Thanksgiving morning. Worse, our oven adopted a relativistic philosophy, insisting if its controls read “350,” the actual 500-degree temperature was irrelevant.
Even if, having stocked up on dark meat because we ran out last year, I was asked if our turkey was a mutant. Ditto for yeast rolls that resembled trolls.
Even if drains and conversations occasionally clogged.
And I can’t pretend I have six months to Christmas shop. …
Still, with four generations feasting and sharing gratitude to God, our Thanksgiving was a blessed celebration.
Admittedly, the grandchildren’s sugar energy levels could have endangered not only our house, but the entire city block. Thankfully, we all defused at a large community room I’d rented.
No one sent the Monopoly game airborne when he landed on Boardwalk with hotels.
Everyone ate mutant turkey and rolls.
Not only was there enough pie for all 17 diners, plenty remained for Grandma and Grandpa’s post-host-survival celebration.
Despite that, I still can zip my jeans! — and ignore nasty online pop-ups advertising tent-sized attire for New Year’s Eve.
Bottom line: Our family arrived safely, rejoiced, loved, and gave thanks together, then returned home, grateful to again sleep in their own beds.
Can such a rich celebration be considered a mere practice run?
We can correct whatever went wrong at Thanksgiving to improve Christmas gatherings. Hosts can repair the carbonizing oven and replace air mattresses that flattened overnight. Hubby watched a YouTube video that helped him fix the disposal. I might even practice making rolls that look like … rolls.
Soon autumn decorations in our home will give way to poinsettias, evergreens and jingle bells. A Christmas tree will grace our living room window.
But thanksgiving won’t be packed away until next November.
I pray it saturates my Christmas season … and New Year’s … and Easter 2024 … and …
Your Extraordinary Ordinary: What are your reasons for thanksgiving, even after Thanksgiving?
O Lord, on these chilly mornings, I do appreciate my snuggly, nice leather footwear. Sometimes, though, I miss the glare of the Mean Kitty slippers I bought at the Dollar Store. OMG, You’re right. If I really need to look a grouch in the eye, I can always find a mirror.
Our early tandem rides always challenge my husband and me. We huff and puff and yell at each other to keep pedaling — and that’s just to leave the driveway.
Our winter weights slow us. Dogs that normally would pursue us might not bother: I’d get more challenge out of chasing a parked car.
The bikes are in good shape, though, as Hubby’s serviced them. Fired up his cyclocomputer that records mileage, speed, and number of bugs swallowed.
Cyclists face risks. The above-mentioned dogs might reconsider and supplement their diets with ankles. Some drivers consider bikes figments of their imagination. Occasionally, a crazed farmer attempts to flatten us with his tractor. Why? Maybe his girlfriend, Daisy, dumped him, and he has hated bicycles built for two ever since.
Still, Hubby and I take to the road.
With him in captain position (front seat) and me as stoker, we pedal away. Hubby, who once participated in 100-mile rides, supplies most of the power. He also steers, changes gears and brakes. He does maintenance and records our data.
Me? I make hand signals. Correctly, most of the time. Impressed? Hey, I fill water bottles too.
As we pedal along country roads, landscape changes become evident. A new house has sprouted. Somebody blacktopped their gravel driveway. One homeowner has planted peach-colored geraniums instead of his usual red ones.
“Great to ride again,” I yell to Hubby.
He nods, mostly to keep bug-swallowing statistics low.
After several miles, though, the bicycle seats become a pain in the butt. A month must pass before our muscles adjust — or total numbness sets in.
Plus, sunshine fooled us. We ignored the wind’s gleeful gusts. At the beginning, Hubby said we might set new speed records for a first effort. With the west wind behind us, we might eat lunch in Pittsburgh.
Then we turned.
With the crosswind, our bike almost flew to Pittsburgh.
Still, the last gasping miles couldn’t detract from a river’s flowing green loveliness as we crossed the bridge. From intoxicating fragrances of early lilacs. From bunches of redbuds along the road as if God had tossed bouquets to us.
Why should He do that? It’s not like we created all this beauty.
But we’ll take it, giving thanks on this first bike ride of spring.
Your Extraordinary Ordinary: What’s your favorite spring outdoor activity?
O Lord, my friends in California suffer from power outages, shoveling never-before snowdrifts.
Meanwhile, we in Indiana experience April-like thunderstorms and warm temperatures, fooling naive lilacs, daffodils and irises. OMG, perhaps Your weather is trying tell us we’re not in charge?
