Everyday Minuets #3

Our car has a flat tire today, so Beezy and I ran errands on foot. Well, she road her bike, and we walked the dog to Main St. It's not a far walk, but I admit to being a little lazy lately and driving the car unnecessarily. Belly dance classes start up again on Thursday, so I need to start thinking about better health and fitness (again)! Fall allergies have kicked in full throttle. It's my favorite season, especially the Indian Summer days like today, but physically I feel the worst. At any rate, the cat was out of his soft food, and he was not happy...

The discount grocery we went to was, alas, completely wiped out of soft cat food! But I needed white and whole wheat flour and couscous, so it was still worth the trip. My backpack was then very heavy, though, but I figured it was great strength training! Beezy had brought her own money and shopped in the attached flea market, finding a beautiful China doll. I thought it was neat that she wanted to spend her own money and didn't even ask if I would buy it. Somehow homeschooling gets the credit for this independent gesture! Since she was on her bike, guess who got to carry the doll in its box, along with the backpack, while simultaneously walking the dog? We then went to the gas station for the cat food, which I had Beezy hang from her handlebars, and we prodded back home.

Last evening I was talking with a retired teacher who assumed that we use the computer a lot since we homeschool. When I said no, we rarely use the computer, she questioned how we are then held accountable. Interesting the preconceptions people have, and what a great opportunity to educate someone to a better degree of understanding of the process! While I appreciated her insights as a former schoolteacher, I sensed her trying to tell me how to go about teaching reading, and I ended the conversation by extolling the beauty of being able to do what works best in our family. One reason I am letting my hair go gray is that I am hoping my elders will realize that I am way past old enough to make good choices and to know what I am doing as a mother/teacher. I am in my early 40s but don't look it, except that now the evidence of my hard won wisdom is showing on my head! Mothers, have faith in the holy wisdom that God grants you, and do not waiver in your mission.

R.H. Series, Day 11 (Wabi Sabi)

Last Saturday was a perfect Indian Summer day. I clipped 3 immaculate hydrangeas from the bush in my front yard and placed them in an elegant, clear green glass vase and set them in the entryway on a vintage serving cart where they could be seen by anyone from the open front door. I was having guests on my porch, so I thought the flowers would be a nice touch. I prefer to allow blossoms to live, so I rarely cut them.

In just a week it has turned much cooler, although today you could still feel the warmth of the sun if you paid very careful attention between strong gusts of wind. Yesterday the lawn was uniformly covered with a blanket of orange leaves, and I thought to take a picture but didn't. Today all of the leaves were blown to one side and heaped onto the porch steps, leaving the lawn asymetrical, imperfect. This is the time of Wabi-Sabi, the Japanese aesthetic and philosophy of imperfect Beauty. Because nothing lasts, there is bittersweet perfection in the fading of the flower.

I love hydrangeas. They were the primary flowers in my wedding bouquet. A tangled web of vines had grown over my bush, and I had intended to cut it back, but I guess I was just lazy. Today I had to admit that though all of the rain we got a few weeks ago extended their glorious blossoming, they were just beginning to fade, and I suddenly found myself with a pair of scissors in hand, cutting away at the vines, which were on their way out anyway. The largest hydrangea remaining, once freed from the weight of the vine, rebounded majestically. Except for the slightest beginnings of browning, it is still in the fullness of its bloom, and I did not cut it.

I felt in awe of these flowers, which despite the oppression of greedy vines had held their own, used to bowing their heads naturally, daring to peek out in their lushness of awesome shades of pink and pale green, unconquerable. Their beauty was too profound to be hidden. Like that children's church song, "This little light of mine, I'm gonna let it shine... Hide it under a bush--oh no! I'm gonna let it shine." I cut several of the browning blossoms but left a few to tough it out to the end. I may bring that big one in soon and dry it, keeping it as a memento of what I learned today.

What or who is weighing you down? What has you all tangled up inside? Are you hiding your beauty underneath, afraid to cut out everything in your life, and yourself, except for what you know to be beautiful, useful, good, or necessary? I am the hydrangea. You are the hydrangea. Remember. Never forget.