April 27, 2015

...it seemed a thrill of pleasure

Happy Monday!  Even thought it is still a little chilly outside, my heart was warmed this weekend when three friends commented that they had missed my posts.  I honestly thought no one had probably noticed that I haven't posted in a while.  Sometimes it is hard to write and wonder if anyone reads my latest reflections or misses my poems when I take a break, so it was truly uplifting to hear that people really do enjoy what I have to say.  With all the blogs in the world, written on every conceivable subject, sometimes it is easy to think that you have nothing special to add to the universe that hasn't already been said.

The weekend flew by, as they usually do, in a mix of housework, laundry, shopping and craft work.  I have never defined myself as a "crafty" person (jack of all trades, master of none) but this last year has been a whirlwind of events that have required more crafting than I have ever done before, and has played a large role in why my posts have been few and far between lately.  I had intended to chronicle each event as it happened, but honestly, it just seemed to be stacked one thing upon another, so that I've never had a chance to catch my breath.

In the last year alone I helped organize a baby shower for my son and daughter-in-law, a bridal shower for my daughter, my daughter's bachelorette party, my daughter's wedding, followed shortly thereafter by Christmas crafting, and most recently  my mother's 90th birthday party.  All this on top of three long trips back to South Dakota for funerals, a trip to Indiana for a 100th anniversary church celebration and a (very!) long drive to New Orleans for a nephew's wedding, as well as some much needed home renovation projects.  And did I mention I work full time???  Whew...I get tired all over again just thinking about the past year, which I guess is my way of explaining why posts have been less frequent. 

My latest project had me floored.  Literally. In the same breath that I used to complain about the hideous blue shag carpet in my bedroom and hallway when we moved in to our home eleven years ago, I also commented that the kitchen/dining room floor Had.To.Go.  The parquet design was outdated, and extremely scratched and I couldn't wait to see it go. No, it really wasn't quite this shiny but I struggled to get a decent picture without the "glow".

Well, we all know how projects go...with four children to put through college remodeling often takes a back seat to more pressing priorities.  But once we put the new floor in the living room (replacing the awful green carpet) the contrast between the two floors was really vexing.  We finally were able to make my dream a reality, which meant, of course, that we once again had boxes of flooring in our living room...

as well as appliances spread all over...

but oh my, it was so worth all the inconvenience in the end!

I am a happy woman. I was a happy woman even with dreadful blue shag carpets and parquet linoleum, but the changes do make me smile when I walk in the door after work.  I feel like we have really put our "stamp" on our home and what's not to love about that?

Every time I stepped outside this weekend I was charmed by all the bird songs outside my door.  It gave me a small thrill of pleasure that Wordsworth mentions in his poem.  My wish for you today is that you also find a moment of pleasure and sweet mood, but hopefully they won't bring sad thoughts to mind like they did for the poet!

Lines Written in Early Spring

I heard a thousand blended notes,
While in a grove I sate reclined,
In that sweet mood when pleasant thoughts
Bring sad thoughts to the mind.

To her fair works did Nature link
The human soul that through me ran;
And much it grieved my heart to think
What man has made of man.

Through primrose tufts, in that green bower,
The periwinkle trailed its wreaths;
And ’tis my faith that every flower
Enjoys the air it breathes.

The birds around me hopped and played,
Their thoughts I cannot measure:—
But the least motion which they made
It seemed a thrill of pleasure.

The budding twigs spread out their fan,
To catch the breezy air;
And I must think, do all I can,
That there was pleasure there.

If this belief from heaven be sent,
If such be Nature’s holy plan,
Have I not reason to lament
What man has made of man?

No comments:

Post a Comment