Random disconnected thoughts that are ricocheting around my feeble mind on a snowy/rainy day at The Acres.
When you are blessed with an unexpected, extra day to catch up on your grading, there is only one thing to do: read all day long. Binge Wendell Berry--a poetry anthology, a couple of your favorite essays--"Leaving the Future Behind: A Letter to a Scientific Friend"; "The Joy of Sale Resistance." And throw in some poetry by Billy Collins: The Art of Drowning. And re-read The Man Who Created Paradise. (Some day I'll be able to read that fable without tearing up. Maybe.) The papers? What papers?
All poetry should be read out loud.
Two quotes for the day: "You are responsible for what you remember."--John Lucas. ""Somewhere is better than anywhere."--O'Conner.
Machado signed with the Padres for "300 million." The Padres. Yes, the money is insane. But at least you know he's all about winning and it's not about the money. The Padres.
Some how my neighbor Aaron plowed my driveway, and I didn't even notice. Great neighbor! He could use a better one.
I am still not sure if it's a bad thing for people to take advantage of you because you are "too kind."
I wonder if I'll outlast The Sentinel? I wonder if who ever gets The Acres after me will understand that even if a pond is practically a mud hole--it's still a thing of great beauty? I hope I never succeed in taking all the wildness out of The Acres. Better Homes and Gardens can have their magazine.
Dumb Animal is a good name for a cat. Even if she is smarter than you are. Every home needs a cat.
Even though Velveeta Cheese appears to be almost eternal--what's in that stuff?--it sure tastes good on macaroni--and grilled cheese.
I can tell how cold it is in the morning by checking out the leaves on my rhododendron. I don't know the exact temperature--but I can tell when it's cold. I know for sure that it's mid-May when they display their beautiful red and pink flowers.
When you've run out of syrup, you have effectively run out of waffles.
I believe with all my heart that my Savior loved me enough to die for me, will someday so transform me that I won't even consider sinning, and that He will wipe all the tears from my eyes. Why He would love the me I know that much is unfathomable. How He can so transform a spontaneous sinner I have no idea, but what a glorious day that will be. And I have no idea how He can wipe all my tears away--sometimes, to be honest, I'm not sure I want Him to. Forgive my heresy. Again, I believe with all my heart that His promises are sure. And fill my soul with joy.
When I fail to make the right decision, He is kind enough to bring the opportunity back around so I can try again. Whew!
Sorry to end your day with such incoherent musings. I guess there's still some time to tackle some of those papers. I wonder if students realize that paper grading is an act of love--and mercy, once in awhile.
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