Category Archives: housework

All these things happened.

Not today’s specimen.

This morning as I was adding water to the fountain, a Monarch fluttered by, the first one I’ve seen this year. The next moment, I saw another butterfly across the garden, the one I see more often, and I thought I could find its name on my blog, but I can’t. It’s yellow and black. Two butterflies in two seconds!

I went to the community center to drop off my ballot, to the library to return a book, and to Costco to return an item that I’d bought impulsively only Sunday. As soon as I began unloading my car that evening, I knew it was a mistake, and did not even bring it into the house. It was a set of serving bowls that charmed me just long enough to necessitate today’s trip back to the store. Harder mistakes have happened.

Cabbage Whites have been about, too.

My last stop was the thrift store, where a whole box of stuff including toys was rejected, because there was an all-metal (and clean, I tell you!) Nyger bird feeder stuck on top. The attendant reminded me of some rude Chinese restaurant waiters I have known, in the way he angrily judged my offerings as being contaminated by “poop.” I admit I went away from there briefly miffed.

How could I not be happy, when I had accomplished my outing before noon, and cleared my garage of another small load of stuff?  My success gave me energy to keep sorting and organizing for a few hours. I threw away lots of pictures taken 60-80 years ago that are of people I never knew, or are so bad as to be insulting to the people I did know.

I took a nap, and then it was time to make dinner. While I was eating and watching the birds at the feeder outside, I read poetry. And it was the poetry that made me want to document that it was a morning with two butterflies.

See the colors till the end.

It’s been a big week for me so far, because I took down and put away all of my Christmas decorations all by myself, including the faux tree. I feel incredibly lightened up by having that task out of the way. For several weeks the tree and its lights burning all day and night cheered me up as I was recovering from sickness and deep winter, but one day the top third was not lit anymore. I unplugged it, and after that, it became a chore needing to be done, which is possibly the opposite of cheery, until one gets into it, at which point it might become energizing and satisfying.

When the family was together at Christmas, evidently someone added a most natural ornament without asking me, because I was surprised to find among the branches a dried pansy, and it was a welcome late gift, bringing as it did memories of that rich couple of weeks.

I paid a man to level my fountain and clean it, and I watched as he lifted off the top and emptied the pipes of so much green stuff! I realize now that every time over the last four years that I have let the algae get away from me, by not putting the drops in every week, all the cleaning out I have done trying to remedy the situation has been woefully superficial, even if it did take a long time. I must become more diligent. When he finished he asked me how fast I wanted the flow to be. I said “low” and he set it so, but it seems fuller and faster than ever.

This year when I renew my driver’s license I have to take the written test. I started on that too late to get an appointment at the DMV, so I need to pick a day and wait in line. I’ve decided this will be the week for that as well. I got the handbook and have been taking practice tests online, and I’ll be ready. But I’m very annoyed by all the questions about the penalties for breaking laws. It doesn’t say anything about my driving skills if I can’t remember how many months or years I might be jailed for evading the police or for drunk driving, first or second offense, etc.

A few days ago when I was musing about my lack of yellow clothing, I did remember a scarf that I inherited that has some yellow in it. Have you ever seen anything like this?

It shows a hundred years of American soldiers and sub-groups of armies, starting with George Washington at top left. I can’t think of a proper occasion to which I might wear it, even if I were a militaristic woman.




Maybe Glad ancestors were among the American fighting men in that century, I don’t know. But I do know that one branch of my late husband’s people came from Ryegate, Vermont, and are mentioned in this book, first published in 1913. This morning my eldest, Pearl, asked me if I had a copy, and what do you know, I had two on a high shelf. I packed them up and sent them to Wisconsin so she can explore further what are her people, too.

This is turning out to be a gathering of historic tidbits; here is an article about the word till. Did you think maybe it should be ’til? Not at all. ’til is a modern invention. I was oddly happy to know this fact. You can learn about the history of till here at Daily Writing Tips.

THE COLOR BLUE has always been my favorite, so when Leila shared this link about its history on her blog Like Mother, Like Daughter I went straight there and drank in all the blues – and I feel so rich, not being colorblind. How could there be new blues being invented? Of course, there are infinite blues, but whether we can find a dye or an ink that paints them must be the question. Here is just one recent blue, from the article, named International Klein Blue:As much as I love blue, I’ll leave you with a picture of one of my otherwise tinted Iceland poppies in the front garden. They have been waving to the neighbors who walk past, and to me when I come home from my errands. And most of them are the color that I love in my garden especially: orange.

Oh, but thinking about the garden reminds me that I have learned enough Spanish that I was able to text to my gardener this week: “Puede trabajar aquí este fin de semana?” (Can you work here this weekend?) And he came even sooner. 🙂


All nature stretches…

We have rain, thank the Lord. My newly planted kale starts (sprouted and nurtured igl-kale-p1050630n the greenhouse!) are very happy with the weather. I’ve been busy battening down the hatches, which includes battling with mice and rats who found my garage a cozy place to set up housekeeping for the winter. I’m thankful for them at this point, because they have forced me to clean the garage from top to bottom. Dear little things – and I’m trying not to be sarcastic – I know they are doing what is normal and right for them.

As the earthly light dims, here in the Northern Hemisphere, I feel the reality of God’s never-waning Light. Wherever you live, may you be nurtured by His gifts this moment and every day.

Every creature has in it the instinct to be as true as possible to what God created it to be. Even plants have this directive in them. All nature stretches toward the nurture it requires for its fulfillment – the “daily bread,” so-to-speak, that it needs for its survival… We have, every one of us, been planted facing the earthly darkness of sin and death. This business of making our way upward and into the daylight, to blossom forth as the individuals God made us to be – this is the enlightened life to which our inborn instinct calls us… The Lord Jesus Christ is always reaching even into the darkest places on earth and inside our souls to draw us into a blessed life. As the Apostle Peter wrote, “He has called you out of darkness into his marvelous light.” (1 Peter 2:9) Likewise the Prophet Isaiah said, “Upon those who sat in the dark region and shadow of death, the light has shined.” (Matthew 4:16, Isaiah 9:2)

~Dee Pennock, God’s Path to Sanity

Ironing in the Light.

I took time to do some ironing this morning and it was glorious. How could that be, you wonder? It was the Lord; He is glorious.

I used to “take in ironing” for money when I was a teenager, and I’ve enjoyed the task ever since, at least, when I’m not in a rush. I liked to set up my ironing station in the living rogl P1030303om occasionally so I could watch a baseball game on TV with my husband at the same time. I would in a leisurely fashion catch up on pressing all his work shirts, and my own clothes, which often needed it, too. I know, there are lots of women these days who Don’t Iron. I am not very current that way.

Today I was alone, and I didn’t consider multitasking because I didn’t think I’d be at it very long. The sun was streaming into the great room which I had just rearranged and tidied up, so that is where the ironing board landed. When people are sleeping in that room it gets moved all around; I don’t have a dedicated laundry P1030299

Today I did quite a few placemats, napkins, and handkerchiefs. I noticed the differences in various qualities among the napkins. The paisley napkins Pearl sewed to go with some teacups she gave me. They are perfectly square with meticulous stitching, and the fabric is good quality, easy to press smoothly.

The checkered napkins are ones I made eons ago of soft and thick fabric, nice for wiping one’s chin, but they are not well-sewn or uniform in size or shape. It’s so heartening to have one’s children rise above their examples. The green napkins I bought, and they are of terribly wrinkly and coarse fabric that takes a lot of pressing and steam to get into shape.

The plaid handkerchief is one of many I sewed for Mr. Glad from an old skirt. The fabric is soft and thin enough, but so strong that the handkerchiefs I made have lasted for years and now I am using them myself.

As I was working the wrinkles out of skirts and napkins, I thought about what I had read yesterday on Fr. Stephen Freeman’s blog post, “An Unnecessary Salvation”:

That Christianity in its classical form has always had an instinct for “all things,” is evidenced in the use of “all things” within its services and sacraments. And when those uses are examined, what is uncovered is a “seamless garment” of salvation. Nothing is “by the way.” I have made the statement from time to time with catechumens in my parish that we could begin with the smallest thing, a simple blade of grass, and go from there to give a full account of the entirety of the gospel. It could also be said that if an account of the gospel excludes even so much as a blade of grass, then it has been seriously misunderstood.

I knew that this morning I was being saved by ironing….and I was glad that I could be ironing in peace, in the presence of God, singing my prayers, and my feet weren’t hurting ! and also, I have the best ironing board. I tried to buy an ironing board for one of my daughters a few years ago and I was appalled at how rickety they all are now. I haven’t seen or used one as sturdy, heavy and stable as mine in decades. No wonder women don’t want to iron, if they have to work on flimsy equipment.

The light coming into that room must have made me think of the song, “The Lord is My Light and My Salvation,” and from there, a really old one we sang in the Jesus People days, “I Saw the Lord,” which, as I remember it, continues:

I saw the Lord, sitting upon a throne:
He is high and lifted up,
And His train fills the temple.
He is high and lifted up,
And His train fills the temple.
The angels cry “Holy!” The angels cry “Holy!”
The angels cry “Holy is the LORD!”