I have been pleasantly astonished through the years that national parks and monuments continue to be priced where most of us can afford to go. Pessimistically, with all the frantic beaureacratic pawing for change under the sofa cushions, I keep waiting for the prices to go up.
Not this year, though--it's an election year.
Actually, we still have a fair number of free activities we can enjoy. Parades are one of my favorites.
With a goodly supply of universities and community colleges in the area, the Dallas-Fort Worth area has quite a few free art shows, science exhibits, and concerts both indoors and out. As do all cities, we have public gardens available for all. This is one of my favorite times to go to the Fort Worth Botanic Gardens or the Dallas Arboretum. The Arboretum has a modest charge for its Dallas Blooms extravaganza, understandable with the massed colors of thousands of daffodils, iris, pansies, and azaleas, to name a few.
It is good walking weather in the Metroplex. The unusually warm winter is bringing out early blooming Bradford pears and budding redbud trees, wild plum and dogwood. We have some new light rail facilities which are making it easier to get around in this heavily congested area.
The word "always" is not one we can use very often any more in a rapidly changing world. Sometimes, though, we still run across delightful opportunities that are free or very affordable even in a world of hurt.
That makes me thankful. And that lifts my spirits.
More thankfulness. And so it goes.
Showing posts with label blessings. Show all posts
Showing posts with label blessings. Show all posts
Tuesday, February 28, 2012
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
The Magic of Thanksgiving
Around the holidays, we do get magical. Can't help it. This, for me, is a magic story.
A couple of weeks ago, I visited a longtime friend in East Texas. For you roustabouts who don't know anything about the very large state of Texas,this means a 100 miles or so east of DFW Metroplex.The sweet gum were coloring. So were the oak and maple. The sun was blooming for the first time in a week.
But the weather was so mild the flowers, particularly the roses, were still blooming.
My friend has a beautiful home in 11 acres of gardens, trees, meadows and stock tank. Wow.
Along with the superb coconut creme pie she made from scratch, she showed me her favored china. She opened the door, and asked, " Do you remember this?" She pulled out a blue serving plate rimmed with gold trim, with six matching plates.
My face convulsed. She was alarmed. She said ,"You can have it back if you want to," and I am proud to say only for a moment did I want to.Because when I got all my gandmother's china, when I realized what she had, I realized it was too much. I sold a lot of it. I lost some in storage, and I gave some of it away. Ultimately,
I lost it all. But I gave some of it to persons I loved. Anita was one of them.
When I visited Anita and saw the plates, in a way I had never acknowledged I realized what I had lost, and what I had gained.l saw that I inherited, never owned, my grandmother's china. At the same time I realized by giving these few plates away,I had them forever, in the home I gave them to.
No wonder she had trouble reading my face. I am so proud that once upon a time I don't even remember I gave them to her. I don't even remember it except peripherilly. But at least I knew even then that she was important. I gave the gold-gilded plates to someone I loved 40 years ago. And we still love each other.
Well, she will have her Thanksgiving and so will will I. I don't know what plates will be used in either place. We don't own them, y'all. We simply use them while we are here. I still own the memories of my grandmother, my father, my mother. The plates bring them more to mind. But I don't need them to remember.
That is all. Thanksgiving is hope for the future. I have been blessed. How about you?
A couple of weeks ago, I visited a longtime friend in East Texas. For you roustabouts who don't know anything about the very large state of Texas,this means a 100 miles or so east of DFW Metroplex.The sweet gum were coloring. So were the oak and maple. The sun was blooming for the first time in a week.
But the weather was so mild the flowers, particularly the roses, were still blooming.
My friend has a beautiful home in 11 acres of gardens, trees, meadows and stock tank. Wow.
Along with the superb coconut creme pie she made from scratch, she showed me her favored china. She opened the door, and asked, " Do you remember this?" She pulled out a blue serving plate rimmed with gold trim, with six matching plates.
My face convulsed. She was alarmed. She said ,"You can have it back if you want to," and I am proud to say only for a moment did I want to.Because when I got all my gandmother's china, when I realized what she had, I realized it was too much. I sold a lot of it. I lost some in storage, and I gave some of it away. Ultimately,
I lost it all. But I gave some of it to persons I loved. Anita was one of them.
When I visited Anita and saw the plates, in a way I had never acknowledged I realized what I had lost, and what I had gained.l saw that I inherited, never owned, my grandmother's china. At the same time I realized by giving these few plates away,I had them forever, in the home I gave them to.
No wonder she had trouble reading my face. I am so proud that once upon a time I don't even remember I gave them to her. I don't even remember it except peripherilly. But at least I knew even then that she was important. I gave the gold-gilded plates to someone I loved 40 years ago. And we still love each other.
Well, she will have her Thanksgiving and so will will I. I don't know what plates will be used in either place. We don't own them, y'all. We simply use them while we are here. I still own the memories of my grandmother, my father, my mother. The plates bring them more to mind. But I don't need them to remember.
That is all. Thanksgiving is hope for the future. I have been blessed. How about you?
Tuesday, December 2, 2008
The Start of a Gratitude Journal
I talked to an old friend today, someone I hadn't seen in a couple of years.
She said in the last few months she has started a gratitude journal. Each day she writes down one blessing of her day. She commented on the bad things always around us, the news, hassles, frustrations, and that you have to be aware, pay attention to see that the good things are happening right along.
This fits into so much of my last year that I was amazed. I don't usually write it down, and I think she has a good idea. In the last 10 months, though, I have gotten used to waking up, saying thank you, and then paying attention to the blessings in my day. Some are big, some are little. A couple of days ago, it was raining, the sky grey behind a radiant red oak, and I stopped just to look. To remember. To sniff the air full of wet leaves and wet ground, and cold--at least cool--air that has its own smell. To listen to the rain. To feel the cold seeping through my sweater. To feel alive, so alive, all my senses in that moment. And I won't forget. What else happened that day? I don't remember, but it was good day.
And I am grateful for it.
She said in the last few months she has started a gratitude journal. Each day she writes down one blessing of her day. She commented on the bad things always around us, the news, hassles, frustrations, and that you have to be aware, pay attention to see that the good things are happening right along.
This fits into so much of my last year that I was amazed. I don't usually write it down, and I think she has a good idea. In the last 10 months, though, I have gotten used to waking up, saying thank you, and then paying attention to the blessings in my day. Some are big, some are little. A couple of days ago, it was raining, the sky grey behind a radiant red oak, and I stopped just to look. To remember. To sniff the air full of wet leaves and wet ground, and cold--at least cool--air that has its own smell. To listen to the rain. To feel the cold seeping through my sweater. To feel alive, so alive, all my senses in that moment. And I won't forget. What else happened that day? I don't remember, but it was good day.
And I am grateful for it.
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