friday five

Friday Five: Quotes of the week

1. Gardens are a form of autobiography.  ~Sydney Eddison

2. Everything changes once we identify with the witness to the story, instead of the actor in it. ~Ram Dass

3. People usually consider walking on water or in thin air a miracle. But I think the real miracle is not to walk either on water or in thin air, but to walk on earth. Every day we are engaged in a miracle which we don't even recognize: a blue sky, white clouds, green leaves, the black, curious eyes of a child — our own two eyes. All is a miracle. ~Thich Nhat Hanh

4. At any given moment, you have the power to say: This is not how the story is going to end. ~Anonymous

5. And now the page beckons.
Thin as the layer of silver that makes the mirror reflect, it urges, Set down here what you saw, and you will understand it as never before.
And so will all the world.  ~Bonnie Friedman, WRITING PAST DARK

Friday Five: Sentimental Journey

I catch glimpses of my Nana's sensibilities (and sentimentalities) in myself, more and more every day. How so, you ask? I offer you five examples:

1. A couple of days ago, this pair of mallards landed in our yard. I'm not sure what they were looking for–the closest water source is my neighbor's pool (although there's a stream bed a few blocks away). Anyway, after strolling through my new rose bed, they ambled across the road. 

Along came an SUV, barreling toward both ducks. I flapped my arms and shouted, "Ducks! Watch out!" The driver screeched to a stop. He slouched in his seat, likely at the thought of the narrowly-averted tragedy. Or maybe he was frightened by the wild-eyed woman who waved him down?  I swan, I just about had a heart attack myself, right then and there.The ducks? They kept right on waddling, utterly nonplussed…

2. The yard into which the ducks shuffled next belonged to my dearly departed neighbor. Jan's front yard's a shambles now, but it used to be a caliope of roses, hibiscus, and gardenias–the pride and joy of the entire neighborhood. She tended her flowers every morning and evening…until she couldn't any longer. The house sold quickly, and the new owners just moved in. A young couple, really nice. But because they have a toddler, they plan to remove all the landscaping out front…sooner than later, as finances permit. 

We understand their reasoning, but the entire neighborhood has once again fallen into grief. We loved Jan's flowers as much as she did, and are anguished to think that her beloved rose beds–her legacy–will disappear without a trace. So when our new neighbors offered me as many roses as I wanted to take, I seized the opportunity.

I struggled mightily with the larger ones, but the thorns were too sharp, the roots too stubborn. Still, I managed to dig up three mid-sized bushes all by myself, and transplanted them into a flower bed in my backyard. I'm wishing on imaginary dandelion puffs now, like Nana taught me long ago. I'm so hoping that they'll make it!!

3. Good news: our orioles are back! And you know what that means, right? TIme to buy some more grape jelly! Nana would've loved to watch them flit from tree to tree. Knowing her, she'd probably sneak an extra pinch of sugar into the nectar while it's cooking…


I took this photo last year. I'll try for a better shot this spring/summer.

4. I'm reading WRITING PAST DARK: Envy, Fear, Distractions, and Other Dilemmas in the Writer's Life. (I wish I could remember who it was that mentioned this wonderful book on their blog, so I could thank them properly!) Bonnie Friedman's an amazing writer, and though I'm reluctant to single out any one chapter, I confess to tearing up while reading, "Your Mother's Passions, Your Sister's Woes: Writing About the Living." Just like my Nana, Ms. Friedman illustrates Truth With story. I love that kind of writing, don't you?

5. One by one, my longtime LiveJournal friends are leaving for greener pastures. I mourn the loss of everyone who leaves us, feel sad when their moving trucks rumble down the street. Nothing is permanent, but LJ felt less transient than most blog platforms…until it didn't. And if I weren't so attached to this place, if I weren't so reluctant to learn all I need to make the shift myself, I'd probably be digging up my own rosebeds about now. But I can't bring myself to do that–not yet, anyway.

Instead, I cling tight to my belief that, despite any temporary transplant shock, the friendships we've cultivated here will survive–and thrive. Here I am again, blowing dandelion wishes into the wind. But as my Nana used to say, "If wishes were horses, then beggars would ride." So I'm also thinking about what I might do to help smooth these transitions.  The odds are better, I've found, when I choose action over chance.

Friday Five

1. Some of my favorite childhood memories come of front-porch conversations and church potlucks, where quiet conversations turned to songfests. Not the auto-tuned, polished and synthesized music you hear today. No, I'm talkin' about that old-time, raise-the-roof, glory-hallelujah gospel singing!  Like this, minus any whiff of commercialism:


It's memories like this inspired me to rename this blog Joyful Noise. It's also why I'm taking voice lessons. Slowly but surely, I'm learning to make my own kind of music (thank you, Mama Cass); to sound my barbaric yawp over the rooftops, ala Walt Whitman; to embrace the polished and imperfect, equally. Joyfully. And blessed be, all this noise-making is finding its way into WITNESS.

2. Writing (life itself) is all about singing from your heart, isn't it? It's about choosing fresh over stagnant, about translating the tried-and-true into something original. That's the premise of the movie, JOYFUL NOISE, which I saw last weekend with a friend. Even if you're not of a mind to watch the whole movie, I highly recommend this clip (Higher Ground, via YouTube). It's an uplifting medley of contemporary songs*, remastered with gospel stylin's.  * "Higher" (Sly & The Family Stone), "Yeah" (Usher), "Forever" (Chris Brown), and "Signed, Sealed, Delivered I'm Yours" (Stevie Wonder).

3. Thich Nhat Han once said, "If we believe that tomorrow will be better, we can bear a hardship today." I suspect this is why our ears perk and our hearts beat faster, whenever we hear the opening strains to certain songs. For me, it's gospel choruses and spirituals. They reach the very depths of my soul. Old becomes new, and personally meaningful. (Oh my gracious, when Queen Latifah sang Fix Me Jesus, I was wringing tears from my shirt sleeve!) 

4 and 5. I want to tell you about SAY AMEN, SOMEBODY, which we also saw last weekend. But I need to declutter the house for a special weekend guest, so I think I'll save that story for next time. I'll leave you instead with these harbingers of spring, joyful noises in their own right.

Friday Five: April Fools

In honor of April Fool’s Day, I offer you four truths and a lie. Can you separate fact from fiction?

1. I received this beautiful package in yesterday’s mail. Note the crochet-inspired pattern on the wrapping paper, which I love. And isn’t that gift tag amazing? Would that I could be so crafty!

 I ripped that puppy right open, and lo, look what I found!

*squeals of joy* Thanks, Master Winchester, for drawing my name. And a million thanks, [info]candice_ransom , for hosting such a generous contest. I love my new journal, and I’m already thinking up new things to scribble & doodle on its pages.


2. This lovely gift came my way via a kindred spirit, [info]inknbeans . You might remember that I borrowed a similar scarf for my trip to Connecticut (tea for two–Jeannine Atkins and me– in Salisbury). I loved it so much…it was like wearing a warm hug–and I hated that I had to return it. Handcrafted crochet items remind me of my Nana. (For some reason, she rarely finished any of her projects. But boy oh boy, those hands were always flying!) So when Emjae sent me a scarf of my very own, in a color palatte customized for me, I wore it around my neck for about two weeks straight, no kidding. I’d be wearing it today, if it wasn’t already 80-some degrees outside and climbing.

Warm hugs back at you, Emjae. I’m grateful for your amazing gift, and for all that it represents.

3. I’ve got tickets to hear His Holiness, the 14th Dalai Lama of Tibet, talk with us about "Compassion and Global Leadership."  Seats sold quickly, so I’ll be perched among the pigeons. Doesn’t matter. I’m glad for for this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

4. I play an April Fool’s Day joke on my husband every year. And without fail, he falls for it. Hee, poor guy. This time ’round, I switched out his nondescript ringtone for "Soul Man" by the Blues Brothers. Then I cranked up the volume to its maximum levels, for the benefit of passers-by his listening pleasure. Well now! My husband is brilliant, but he problem-solves in a linear-sequential way. So as you might imagine, this switcharoo threw him for a loop. He turned the phone over and over in his hands, as if inspecting it for defects. "So strange," he marveled. "Sprint must have pushed out another upgrade." Fish in a barrel, folks. Fish in a barrel.

5. It’s supposed to snow here this weekend! Whoa, pretty random, right? An extremely rare occurance…a wonder to behold. White on white: a clever disguise for my camilias.

Happy weekend, everyone! I love you all, no foolin’.

Friday Five

So here we are again, at the end of yet another week. I haven’t touched my manuscript for the last several days. However! In light of recent discoveries, I’ve had to reorganize my outline and rearrange my thinking, and about both of those endeavors, I’m feeling a huge sense of accomplishment. 

For this week’s Friday Five, I offer up those things that brought me lessons–some tangible, some not.

1. A lingering sore throat that made it difficult to speak. Sounds silly, I know, but in the (relative) silence, I felt inspired to go inward, to process my Nancy Drew adventures of late.

2. Pre-dawn solitude, in which to meditate and greet each new day.

3. The creepy crawler intrepid lizard that sunned itself on our back patio. Breathe deeply, I kept telling myself. Find the beauty in every sentient being…

4. Watching the full moon slide behind the back fence and then disappear over the horizon.

5. A beautiful dream, in which a montage of spiritual symbols emerged, none of them religion-specific. Stained glass windows and candles…church hats and gold-leafed books, printed on whisper-thin pages. And I…I was singing with a choir, wearing one of those floaty robes with satin collars and sleeves like angel wings. I couldn’t hear the sound of my own voice, and yet I somehow knew that I was hitting every note just right. I was swaying to the beat, tambourine in hand, unencumbered by fears or inhibitions. Metaphors and realities merged into one, and oh, it was a happy, happy day!! I awakened with the feeling that it was a foreshadowing of something positive to come, and I tend to believe that it’s true. Sooner than later, and in the meantime, it felt like a message from my inner Teachers, encouraging me to do all that I can to get ready.