"Washing" by John Drinkwater
What is all this washing about,
Every day, week in, week out?
From getting up till going to bed,
I'm tired of hearing the same thing said.
Whether I'm dirty of whether I'm not,
Whether the water is cold or hot,
Whether I like or whether I don't
Whether I will or whether I won't--
"Have you washed your hands,
And washed your face?"
I seem to live in the washing-place.
Whenever I go for a walk or ride,
As soon as I put my nose inside
The door again, there's some one there
With a sponge and soap, and a lot they care
If I have something better to do,
"Now wash your face and your fingers too."
Before a meal is ever begun,
And after ever a meal is done,
It's time to turn on the waterspout.
Please, what is all this washing about?
Three adult turkeys and six young crossed our yard. Where there used to be trees across the road, a developer denuded last spring. Are the turkeys just more visible now or are they feeling lost? Passing cars, even joggers along the sidewalk don't seem to notice, non-plussed. It is hard to know what to do about our planet's wounds. Fires of record-breaking magnitude have been burning in California this week. I come across the following:
" A wrong attitude toward nature implies, somewhere, a wrong attitude to God, and the consequence is an inevitable doom." T.S. Eliot
"God doesn't like a clearcut. It makes his heart turn cold, makes him wince and wonder what went wrong with creation, and sets him to thinking about what spoils the child.
You'd better be pretty sure that the cut is absolutely necessary and be at peace with it, so you can explain it to God, for it's fairly certain he's going to question your motives, want to know if your children are hungry and your oldest boy needs asthma medicine. -" Janisse Ray
The aim of life is appreciation; there is no sense in not appreciating things; and there is no sense in having more of them if you have less appreciation of them. – Gilbert K. Chesterton
a covid plan shared by Melanie:
The Cake of Not Much Has Changed
"Well, a lot has changed.
But still, we gather.
We plan. We get confused.
We end with cake."
Maira Kalman & Barbara Scott-Goodman
"Meanwhile, we have lost sight of those half-dozen forest-trees which the children have taken into a sort of comradeship for the year. Presently they have the delight of discovering that the great trees have flowers, too, flowers very often of the same hue as their leaves, and that some trees have put off having their leaves until their flowers have come and gone. By-and-by there is the fruit, and the discovery that every tree––with exceptions which they need not learn yet––and every plant bears fruit, 'fruit and seed after his kind.' All this is stale knowledge to older people, but one of the secrets of the educator is to present nothing as stale knowledge, but to put himself in the position of the child, and wonder and admire with him; for every common miracle which the child sees with his own eyes makes of him for the moment another Newton."
via Daily Good
"But the Loving Presence does not burden us equally with all things, but considerately puts upon each of us just a few central tasks, as emphatic responsibilities. For each of us these special undertakings are our share in the joyous burdens of love."
Thomas R. Kelly, A Testament of Devotion
"You're turning the pages and a very strange - and very nice - thing dawns on you. This book gets you. Obviously the author (who might have died centuries back) never knew you at all. But they write as if they did. It's as if you'd confessed your secrets to them and then they'd gone off and written this work around what you'd told them -transformed, of course, into a story about people with different names or into an essay that doesn't cite your case explicitly, but might as well do so, because it's completely on target." The School of Life, Small Pleasures
Nothing the matter with this baby seal; he's just resting. There were three police officers making sure he had wide berth at North Hampton Beach early this morning. Swimming in the sea is hard work!
May polar bears welcome you
to northern Manitoba, their lumbering grace
marking the ice. May there still be ice.
May giant trees lean over your path
in warm places, brush your brow.
So many details now disappeared...
tiny toads in deserts, fireflies.
Where are the open window screens,
whispers of breeze against a sleeping cheek?
If we stop poking holes in soil,
watching onions grow,
what will we know? If we no longer learn cursive,
will our hand muscles disintegrate?
You blink, beginning to focus.
Where will the lost loops of handwritten "g's"
and "y's" go?
We dream you will have so much to admire.
Naomi Shihab Nye Voices in the Air: Poems for Listeners
A wee explanation: this website was created as a way to amplify the daily surprise of seeing glory in one small life. The notebook entries represented here are all selected from things actually lived and noted on paper in an effort to live the full life British educator Charlotte Mason so ably championed.