Washington's Words

I thought this was a lovely bit of writing. The new President of a new nation calling upon the new citizens to set aside a day of Thanksgiving. The first Thanksgiving of the United States of America. 
Have a blessed and joyful day my dear readers.
Hugs-
Nicole

By the President of the United States of America, a Proclamation.
Whereas it is the duty of all Nations to acknowledge the providence of Almighty God, to obey his will, to be grateful for his benefits, and humbly to implore his protection and favor-- and whereas both Houses of Congress have by their joint Committee requested me to recommend to the People of the United States a day of public thanksgiving and prayer to be observed by acknowledging with grateful hearts the many signal favors of Almighty God especially by affording them an opportunity peaceably to establish a form of government for their safety and happiness.
Now therefore I do recommend and assign Thursday the 26th day of November next to be devoted by the People of these States to the service of that great and glorious Being, who is the beneficent Author of all the good that was, that is, or that will be-- That we may then all unite in rendering unto him our sincere and humble thanks--for his kind care and protection of the People of this Country previous to their becoming a Nation--for the signal and manifold mercies, and the favorable interpositions of his Providence which we experienced in the course and conclusion of the late war--for the great degree of tranquility, union, and plenty, which we have since enjoyed--for the peaceable and rational manner, in which we have been enabled to establish constitutions of government for our safety and happiness, and particularly the national One now lately instituted--for the civil and religious liberty with which we are blessed; and the means we have of acquiring and diffusing useful knowledge; and in general for all the great and various favors which he hath been pleased to confer upon us.
and also that we may then unite in most humbly offering our prayers and supplications to the great Lord and Ruler of Nations and beseech him to pardon our national and other transgressions-- to enable us all, whether in public or private stations, to perform our several and relative duties properly and punctually--to render our national government a blessing to all the people, by constantly being a Government of wise, just, and constitutional laws, discreetly and faithfully executed and obeyed--to protect and guide all Sovereigns and Nations (especially such as have shewn kindness unto us) and to bless them with good government, peace, and concord--To promote the knowledge and practice of true religion and virtue, and the increase of science among them and us--and generally to grant unto all Mankind such a degree of temporal prosperity as he alone knows to be best.
Given under my hand at the City of New York the third day of October in the year of our Lord 1789.
G Washington

Kaleidoscope

Kaleidoscope, twist and turn, the colored bits tumble about. Stop. The pieces settle into a dazzling image. My life tumbles, the pieces haven’t settled – yet – in this move from a small Oregon town to the megalopolis of Utah. I see the colors and paint them on the once vanilla walls of this home: blue in the kitchen with a stunning red in the pantry, lush mossy green in the family room (which once painted every family member said looked like the color of the outside of our Oregon home), a warm welcoming orangey-yellow in the entrance (Mr. W picked it out, Sherwin-Williams calls it afterglow). I leave the neighborhood and the cars rush and swirl and shift. I peer into the newly placed coop and watch the hens peck and scratch, hear their soft clucks and coos. One piece clicks into place. I work in the kitchen with so many cupboards some are still empty, place dinner on the table. On most nights eight of us gather. We eat, we plan, we laugh. Another bit clicks into place. To the left of the chicken coop, between the apple and peach tree, we deep mulch over the grass. In the spring herbs will be planted and the bee hives placed amongst their sweet blossoms. Click, click, click. One by one the colored bits will stop tumbling.

Breakfast Together Twenty-Seven Years Later

The other week I attended a breakfast honoring all the new Eagle Scouts in our Scouting District. Seated at the table with us was a man with his wife and son. Turns out Ron S. and I graduated from the same big suburban high school in 1985. Neither of us recalled the other. We laughed and said we’d have to dig out our year books. 

As we sorted out the garage this week, deciding what to trash, donate or move with us Mr. W unearthed the plastic tote with our yearbooks. Yes, we’ve schlepped these book with us on every move (expect to Germany where they stayed in government storage stateside). Silly as the only time we look at them is when we pop open the box and skims through them each time we move. I pulled out the book for my senior year, flipped the pages and there smack next to my photo, the last two on the page, sat Ron S. Not a glimmer of recognition at seeing his youthful face. Yeah, it was the same guy I ate breakfast with, but as far as I know our paths never crossed twenty-seven years ago. 

What funny twist and turns it took for Ron and I after we crossed that graduation stage those many years ago (I with about sixteen moves and having lived in five states and Europe) to end up in Portland, Oregon having breakfast together. 

me 1985

Bloom Where You're Planted

When I lived in Germany eighteen years ago a friend gave me a magnet that says, “bloom where you're planted”. Since then that magnet has hung on fridges in eight different homes. In each place I know I’ve blossomed and I hope at the same time I’ve planted seeds that helped someone else blossom too. 

Six weeks ago I started taking a permaculture class, some call it urban homesteading, with my friend MJ. My purpose was twofold – to see in action and learn better how to create the vision I have for my two acre property and to become better friends with a woman I greatly admire. Both those points were accomplished, but little did I know when the class started what all would transpire over those few weeks.

Midway through the course Mr. W and I got word his job was transferring him to a new city. This move would take me from the Pacific Northwest to the high desert, a climate I am physically and socially unfamiliar with. I will be living in suburbia possibly on a lot as large as a half acre which though big by suburban standards is much smaller than my current environment. As each class unfolded I learned topics I could apply to my yet unselected new home: water catchment systems (which will be very necessary in the new place), bee and animal keeping on small lots, strategies for working with close neighbors and more. We explored our instructors lot, every inch bursting with something useful or beautiful or both. I know my new home will be a fairly generic suburban lot, but I can envision the space transformed.

I could be overwhelmed, being transplanted again, but instead I am calm. Putting down roots doesn’t have to happen overnight. As our instructor said when she the look of dismay on some of the students faces, “you don’t need to transform your space all at once. Pick a small patch of lawn to remove, plant a few things then later expand it a bit. Piece by piece a lot can be changed.”

The last night of class I took pictures of the instructor’s property. The last spot I photographed was a somewhat triangular shaped bed, running about six feet on two sides with a curvy hypotenuse. The straight sides lined a public side walk and the driveway. The bed is filled with artichoke, germanium, some rhubarb, an apple tree and several other plants.

“I can do that,” I said to MJ as we looked over this bed. “In my new place, I can start with a useful corner.”

She smiled. “I like that, a useful corner.” 

I fingered a leaf and breathed slow and deep because I know it is true, one can bloom wherever you are planted. 

a useful corner

I Will Go Where You Want Me To Go...

With two of our kids in college, two more to follow in a few years, and one married daughter we have chosen to follow our kids lead…

The Last Time

Think of someone you love.

Think of the last time you saw them. Call up the sounds, the smells, the feelings of that moment. Immerse yourself in it. 

Now think that this is the last time you will see them.

It was a year ago today my father, RLT, passed away. 

Miss B’s wedding, the last time I saw him. Mr. W and Miss B were dancing the father-daughter dance. Half way through the song Butterfly Kisses RLT comes up behind where I sat and put his hand on my shoulder. The weight, the warmth, the love and pride that flowed from him to me – I can still feel it. The song ended and Mr. W handed our daughter over to Mr. B. My father stayed as they danced to Little Wonders.

Today Little Wonders comes on the radio. I see my daughters glowing face. I feel my father’s hand on my shoulder.

I cry.

Tears of peace.

Rest well RLT.

Know you are missed.

Know you are loved.

about 1971

18 April 1988

June 1985

Comicon - Who Would of Thought?

I threaded my way through the throng of people moving around each other the way water flows and bubbles in a rocky stream.