. . . why I didn't remember that the aforementioned poem, "October's Bright Blue Weather," was written by Helen Hunt Jackson. (You can read the entire poem, and information about the author by following the links on the right.) She was apparently a pretty remarkable woman, an activist for Native Indian rights and a close friend and classmate of American poet, Emily Dickinson.
. . .if my root canal scheduled for Monday will be as relatively stressless as it was last time. Praying for that.
. . . how long we will wait before being very happy and relieved that we switched over to the snow tires on the car this morning. (Remember, you can check my current weather by clicking the link in the right sidebar.)
. . . what factor in their upbringing resulted in both the kids' excitement about their current plans for soon participating in random "zombie" events at their respective colleges.
. . . if, despite being at it for over a couple decades now, I will ever stop feeling astounded by the traumatic "home-life" that too many of my students deal with.
. . . or if the tenderness and connection I so deeply feel for them--despite their far-less-than-desirable behavior--will ever become callously eroded away.
. . . how my creative, "own-drummer-marching" kids are keeping up with their novel writing for National Novel Writing Month: 50,000 words all written in the month of November. (Follow link in sidebar for more information.) And, keeping up with their classes too.
. . . how much longer the remodeling in the dear bride's office will have her inconveniently working from a desk crammed in a tight corner in the entry hallway.
. . . if we will be able to attend my nephew's wedding in Illinois in June--or my brother's, probably in Arizona, sometime this winter. Really would like to make it happen.
. . . how many Russian words or phrases will become part of our usable vocabulary when the princess is home for winter break from Thanksgiving through New Years. (She is registered to continue with the 102 course in January.)
. . . why it's too easy to stay up and so hard to get up. (Better--a bit--though with the recent time change making morning a bit brighter, for awhile.)
. . . if my sister-in-law is feeling just a bit too much like a professional surgical patient after her fourth ACL knee surgery yesterday. Apparently a wood-getting mishap this time instead of the usual basketball intensities causing the injury.
. . . how many of the Bozeman gang will be there for our Thanksgiving festivities at the son's apartment, and how much kitchen help we will have, or not.
. . . if maybe the princess will be a bit too tired of traveling after a day on the train and NOT feel like jumping in the car the next day for a five-hour jaunt to do Thanksgiving with her brother and friends.
. . . why it's much harder than I anticipated to make time for sorting and organizing in the kids' room, so it can be a welcoming and usable space for the princess when she's home for winter break.
. . . what festive and celebratory moments I should think about for the darling bride's birthday next week, and if she wants a German Chocolate cake this year, or not.
. . . why I am the grayest--by far--of all my siblings, even though I am the youngest. Is it my job, my attitude, my emotionality, my lifestyle. . . ?
. . . how the princess will deal with the undulatory bi-polaric emotions that are inevitable with the first visit home after experiencing the autonomous freedoms of college-life.
. . . why completing these posts takes way more time than I think it should.
. . . how the time spent composing them correlates to the number of readers accessing them.
. . . or even if that matters. Is there a formula for assessing the value of creative endeavors?
And finally, I WONDER (denoting awe-inducement now, instead of simple cerebral ponderances)
. . . at God's remarkable gifts of the family we love, jobs we enjoy, and friends to care about and pray for across years and miles.
May you too discover the WONDERS He has gifted your life with. Thanks for listening, (and commenting, if you feel so moved.)
No comments:
Post a Comment