Community, Friendship, Walking the Dog

Starting Off with one Wrong Shoe?

Most of us recognize the old expression “to start off on the wrong foot.” I’ll be bold and speak for myself and my fellow humans, and say that we have done, and continue to do this repeatedly.

And then there’s the saying “to put the shoe on the wrong foot.” I’ve probably done that literally, a few times, although I can’t remember any specifics. It’s the kind of thing one likes to forget. Metaphorically though, I know I’ve done it frequently.

But what about “to wear one wrong shoe?” It’s not an expression with which I’m familiar. But after the first morning outing of the new year with my dog-walking pack, it’s a phrase I’ve been considering.

Yesterday, round about the halfway point on the walk, a friend noticed that I was wearing two different shoes. “Maybe it was intentional?,” she suggested, graciously offering me the benefit of the doubt.

But no. It was unintended. I was clearly not attempting a bold fashion statement, like the occasional celebrity swanning down the red carpet in deliberately mismatched eight-inch fuchsia Manolo Blahniks. Nor had I even been aware of the difference. As usual, I’d picked out two boots from the dim jumble of the hall closet (which includes the vacuum and its various attachments). And put them on without really looking. I remember thinking one felt a little odd. Even then, as I examined it, I didn’t notice I was wearing an unmatched pair.

“At least they’re both boots,” another friend commented.

Yes. An excellent point. And much alike in shape and color, I will add. One boot was older, with more wear. But not old enough, and not worn enough, to be discarded just yet. And speaking as an older person, one who shows more wear, I will absolutely not say that the older shoe is the wrong one.

I’d like to glean some wisdom from this little anecdote. Maybe it’s that we tend to walk with more confidence, and less awkwardness, when both shoes are of a pair. A match, though, is not absolutely necessary, and maybe not always even preferable, depending upon the circumstances.

But maybe the real point of the story is this: surround yourself with friends who are willing to stick by you, no matter what shoes you happen to wear. When we walk with the right pack, a kind and thoughtful pack, no shoe can be wrong.

May this new year find you journeying along with just such a pack.

Faith and Spirituality, Holiday

Lighting up the Darkness, 2023

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Throughout our home during the Christmas season, little lights shine in the darkness. It’s one way that we mark these weeks, from Advent to Epiphany, as a special time. A time set apart from the ordinary.

The dining room sideboard glows with an illuminated miniature house and twin topiaries.

Also in the dining room, three little alpine trees, decorated largely with homemade shell ornaments. The trees provide a base for the humble clothespin nativity.

In our newly finished attic space, a miniature village, decorated for the season.

Of course, each house has its Christmas wreaths.

Lights and ornaments on the big tree in the living room.

Atop a bookcase in the family room, the holy family, their donkey, with a shepherd and his sheep.

The three Magi and their camel approach from atop an adjacent armoire.

May the light of Christmas warm your heart this season and throughout the year!

Faith and Spirituality, Holiday, Nature

Moon Glow (on the Second-to-Longest Night)

Yesterday, as I was anticipating tonight’s longest night of the year, I thought about our deep-seated human need for light and warmth. Scarcity drives demand, and the short, dark, cold days of winter require us to feed the need through creative means. We devise inventive ways to kindle the fire indoors, to bring the comfort of light and heat into our homes. And possibly, we hope, into our hearts.

For some reason, I stepped outside. I saw the moon. And it was spectacular. Against a dark blue backdrop dotted with small white puffy clouds, the bright half-moon was encircled by a halo of iridescent rings. It looked rather like a glowing opal hovering in the sky. Late last month, during a chilly night walk, my daughter and I marveled at a wide pearly circle around the moon. It was lovely, but it lacked the dazzling colors that I witnessed last night.

What causes a ring around the moon? I’ve often wondered, but never sought out the answer. Now I know. To put it very simply, in terms I can comprehend, it’s produced by light shining through ice crystals high up in the atmosphere, and therefore more likely to occur in colder months.

I almost didn’t attempt a photo. I knew it wouldn’t come close to capturing the beauty I saw firsthand. But I gave it a try, and the resulting images were better than I had expected.

As winter descends and night falls way too early, I’m grateful that many rooms in our old farmhouse will soon be glowing softly with strands of miniature white lights. The day has become cloudy; the sky looks like a white sheet. It’s doubtful that a magical, rainbow-ringed moon will be visible tonight, on this longest night. But, as the old year ends and a new one begins, the vision of that strikingly haloed moon will remind me to look up and out on clear nights. It will prompt me to be ever thankful for a message I treasure always, but especially during these short, cold days. It’s the hope and promise of Christmas:

The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness can not overcome it.

Gospel of John, 1:5

Holiday, Nature

Snow? Yes, Snow!

After a mild day of rain, Northern Virginians awoke this morning to a sight not seen in over a year: snow! There wasn’t much, just enough to coat grassy areas, branches and foliage. But it’s more than we received during all of last winter.

The slushy layer of ice on stone and pavement made me appreciate not having a dog to walk.

The abundant fallen black walnuts in our yard were topped with little snow domes.

By now it’s been two weeks since we began decorating for Christmas. As usual, it doesn’t seem like the holidays should be almost upon us. But the snow provided an undeniable note of seasonal authenticity.

Against the snowy backdrop, in the gray dimness of early morning, the sparkling lights of the small tree on our back porch seemed to declare: It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas!

I guess it really is that time of year!

Community

It’s Election Day! Go Vote!

For various reasons, Slim is no longer legally registered to vote.  This is unfortunate.  He continues to be a highly informed citizen and an ardent supporter of our democratic process.  As a dedicated student of history, he knows how crucial it is to explore the many sides of every issue.  His advice for today’s voting public:  seek out multiple reputable sources, read, listen and question.  Think critically.  Remember that life is complicated.  Be wary of anyone claiming to have a really simple answer. 

And never think that your one vote, or your voice, is unimportant!

Holiday

Halloween 2023, with Slim and the Pack

I knew I needn’t worry that Slim would sleep through Halloween. When he awoke a short while later, he was refreshed from his attic nap and eager to make the final preparations for the evening. This year marked a return to long-established pre-covid traditions; our neighborhood trick-or-treaters would once again be ringing doorbells.

Slim was not about to forego one of his favorite annual customs: the celebratory Halloween joyride. This event had been much beloved by Kiko, even though he typically spent most of the ride in a deep snooze. Slim maintained, as he had last year, that it was a requisite to honoring his furry buddy’s memory.

And an excuse to buy more candy. Slim’s mantra in this respect echoes the Meatloaf song: “Too much is never enough!”

Plus, ever since his first time behind the wheel of his dad’s Model T, Slim has loved to drive.

Slim and the pack were back in plenty of time to tweak the orange and green house lighting and take their places. “The spooky hour approaches, gang,” he cried, “as do little feet.”

With a successful big night behind them, the friends are kicking back. Chilling for a bit, as Slim ponders the direction his artistic pursuits will lead him. I expect to have skeletons in the attic for the foreseeable future. We should all be so lucky.

Happy November to all!

Art and Architecture, Crafts, Holiday

Skeletons in the Attic, 2023

When Slim desired an indoor spot to rest and ruminate, he sought out a window seat in our recently finished third level. He was surprised to see that our attic project had, in fact, been completed. This time last year, the initial demo and removal process had barely begun. He knows us. He’s aware of our inclination to put off and procrastinate. And he knew how much there was in the attic to be removed and/or re-situated: the enormous whole-house fan in the floor, bulky HVAC ducts, chimney supports, the cedar closet (the only semi-finished space), and loads and loads of old insulation. Not to mention the diverse accumulation of stuff the attic had housed.

“You astound me! I thought you’d still be waffling over first steps!,” Slim exclaimed. I noticed that he subtly directed these comments more to my husband than to me.

He and the pack quickly made their way to the front dormer. “The ideal look-out! From up here, we can keep watch on the property and the road. And how nice to have a floor that goes all the way to the window!”

Slim appreciated the exposed-beam aesthetic. “Looks like one of those medieval half-timbered manor house rooms you like so much. I didn’t realize this was what you had in mind!” This remark he directed squarely at me. As I said, he knows us.

I didn’t have that concept in mind. But fortuitously, and thanks to the patience, talent, and vision of our contractor, who happens to be a master craftsman, it turned out that way.

Slim loved the built-in art table that extends from a wall of vintage wood, both of which were conceived and created by that expert craftsman. I’d wanted an expansive work surface, suitable for painting and building my miniature houses. Because the large central duct would be difficult to relocate, our contractor suggested encasing it in wood and positioning the table above. He’d carefully saved the old planks that covered the attic’s limited floor space. He planed down each piece, preserving the original saw marks, and reassembled them, quilt-like, to make a support wall. Another of his clever ideas was a roomy pull-out storage compartment located at each end of the wall.

“I’m getting inspired, just sitting here!, ” Slim proclaimed, leafing through a book of paintings by John Constable. “In all my decades kicking around this big wide world, I haven’t tried my hand at art. Never too late, right?”

Slim’s thoughts continued. “Maybe I’ll do some painting. Or take up wood-working. I do love architecture, and I’ve sure seen most styles and epochs first-hand. ” Eyeing my dollhouses, he offered, “This room calls out for a miniature medieval manor house, doesn’t it?”

He’s right, of course. Looks like I’ve found a partner in craft.

“But first, a little reading,” pronounced Slim, as he headed toward the cane-backed sofa. “And perhaps just the slightest bit of restorative shut-eye. We creative types need our rest.”

May you, too, get some rest before a very happy Halloween!

Holiday, Nature

Return of the Skeleton Crew, 2023

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Our dear family friend Slim awakened earlier this month, as is his habit, from his annual semi-hibernation. An ardent nature lover, he was delighted to greet the brilliant colors and balmy breezes of this alluring October. He spent his first few days wandering the garden and grounds, enjoying the unique botanical mix of summer and fall that has defined these recent days.

He and his pack of loyal pups lazed by the fountain on pleasantly mild afternoons, glorying in pumpkins, bumpy gourds, bright impatiens and fall foliage.

While stretched out on the sun-warmed flagstones, he and little Rocky appreciated the self-seeded petunia patch and squirrel-planted sunflowers.

He congratulated my husband on his near-complete triumph over the stiltgrass in the lawn of the back courtyard.

He marveled at this fall’s striking abundance of black walnuts and acorns. While walking across our yard toward our neighbor’s house, Slim remarked that he was reminded of the ball pit at Chucky Cheese.

After soaking up such a bounty of October sunshine, he was grateful for the shade of the screened porch.

Slim accompanied me to our church’s Trunk or Treat, as he has for the past several years. Never at a loss for the encouraging word, he bantered wittily with every small superhero and Barbie who came along for candy.

Slim brushed away a tear as he spoke of expecting his good buddy Kiko to emerge from a playroom nap in his leisurely, sedate manner. “I sure do miss the old boy!,” he declared. “He wasn’t a big talker, but he had a quiet integrity that I so admired.”

As usual, Slim, with his discerning eye for character, hit the nail on the head.

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I’ve been writing about our Skeleton Crew since 2014. For some earlier posts, see here, here, and here.

A blog about motherhood, marriage and life: the joys and frustrations, beauty and absurdity, blessings and pain. It's about looking back, looking ahead, and walking the dog.