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February 2004
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April 2004

Over the weekend, I went through five years’ worth of journals, looking for art to scan in for this blog. I was getting frustrated by the quality of what I was seeing. Nothing jumped out at me. All the sketches were crude, the colors garish, and the subject matter boring. Nothing sang to me, or was “blog-worthy”. I kept pulling all the journals off the shelf, looking through more and more, and precariously piling them up on top of my printer. As I reached for the last one on the shelf, the whole pile shifted and about fifteen journals went... Read more →

Julia and I have hung out together all weekend. I forget sometimes what a neat kid she is when my only interaction with her during the week is "did you do your homework? take a bath? empty the dishwasher?" inquiries. We went to a skate shop today (3rd time in as many weeks) and to her delight, they finally got in the new skate shoes she wanted. A very gregarious young man waited on us, and while I enjoyed talking to him, I could have lived without Julia listening to the description of the party he had where 300 kids... Read more →

Blessed, blessed weekend. Saturday quiet. Grey and foggy outside, everyone is sleeping past nine o'clock and the day ahead is free. Stay in or go out? I'll let the day unfold and bring me where it wants. Stan took Chris to a college open house for the weekend. The youngest is asleep upstairs with her two cousins, big sleepover morning after. One of my sisters spent the night and we all read and hung out in front of the fire last night. Java chocolate chip ice cream played a significant role in the festivities. The beautiful fabric bought last weekend... Read more →

Thank you to all who wrote in and offered their peace to Kathleen. In thinking about her intensely over the past few days, I remembered that when I first learned she was in our group, I almost didn't join. The group was tiny, only six women. Kathleen seemed so aristocratic and to be very frank, old, that I couldn't imagine what we would have in common to share in terms of our spirituality. Another woman in the group was at the other end of middle age. She was also the wife of a deacon and a leader in our church.... Read more →

I am working through a period of dry, dusty faith. I didn’t realize how parched I was until I began reading a book and the writing made me long for a tall, cold glass of spiritual healing. My faith rattles around me like a dried-up seed pod, once fat and fertile and bursting with life, now a hollow, hardened receptacle clinging to a stem. My spirituality unfolds and flowers in the company of those who practice their faith, seeking answers, witnessing wonders, practicing the everyday sacred of their gentle lives. I think of Kathleen, an elegant, frail, eighty-something woman, who... Read more →