Mary Beth Writes

I wrote this in the first week of 2014:

A is for apple.

Well, we made it through the first Monday of the year.  Did you twirl brilliantly through your Monday? If so, the rest of us salute you.

Over here in my corner the best I can say is that I didn’t get hurt. I did pretty much what I was supposed to do and I’m going to bed sober and tired.  For many, that would be a very good day, indeed.

But I didn’t write anything profound. I didn’t glean an inmate story that moved my heart or his. 

I ate too much bread. Probably because I made five loaves yesterday – 3 loaves of zucchini-cranberry-walnut and 2 of all the whole grains I could find, which in this house is considerable. So tonight I feel somewhat like a fish who escaped the baited hook – in order to swallow the sinker.  In my defense, it isn’t that I ate bread all day long – just that I had it for breakfast, then for lunch, then for dinner. 

Len and I each take a sliced apple to work every day for our lunch. Apples are healthy, crunchy, sweet - a simple food straight from Mom Earth to us.

Every day I eat my sandwich, and then I eat my apple pieces. 

Except, about one day per week I don’t eat my apple. Maybe guys come in while I’m eating at my desk. Maybe I’m not hungry right then and I forget later.  Maybe I’m stuffed on whole grain bread.

I try to remember to eat it in the truck on my way home, but today I was wearing mittens; it just wasn’t going to work.

Do you have ordinary health-full, reasonable things you do most days -- but not all of them? 

This is just about humankind’s oldest question. Why, if we know something is a good choice, why don’t we always make it?  Why do we sabotage our own health and happiness by skipping the brisk walk, over-indulging in too-rich treats, not doing the next thing on our list of needful things to do, skipping the apple?

I don’t know why, when we see what it is we ought to do, we don’t always do it.

But it does mean that we are here on Mother Earth. And tomorrow is the first Tuesday of the year and I have an apple ready.

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The Badlands

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The Lakota call this land "mako sica" which translates into "badlands." They and many other wanderers and settlers named it this because it is so hard to travel through.

Wade in the Waters

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This is a small announcement that could be a lot of fun for some of you.

For the past two years Len has been a volunteer Wisconsin stream monitor. Once per summer month Len and another guy (with whom he has become friends) check water quality and stream-bed life at a few local sites. Before they started, they received clear but uncomplicated training in order to understand what is being looked for and how the testing equipment works. And they received hip waders!

Who's in the Mirror? Representation Matters

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Who’s in the Mirror? Representation Matters

Old story, I’ve probably mentioned it before: In 1977 I was visiting a friend in Ohio for a weekend. We went to her United Methodist Church on Sunday which is in itself amazing since we were two single 20-something women who had been out drinking the night before.

In just spring

4/13/2022

We know what the “Signs of Spring” are, probably because we did so many "Signs of Spring" art projects in grammar school. We know what to notice. Green shoots. Birds singing. Kids playing outside with kites, jump ropes, and jacks.

Why do we celebrate Signs of Spring but not Signs of Winter? Hmmm? Maybe Winter ought to look into this and make a complaint?

Meantime, Karen K sent these photos. Look at these lovely pale-but-not-boring colors and hues.

The Day I Moved Into Chicago

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Franc and I had a conversation about men who won’t or don’t explore their feelings over in yesterday’s comments section. If you want to chime in that topic is still wide open like a swanky whale swimming through swales and swells, swilling for krill. (I don’t know where that came from either. Follow the muse.)

Also, I suggested that if you have photos of Spring where you live to send them to me and I will post them. David sent this from Raleigh, NC. Drying puddle. Yellow aura of pollen. Yup, it’s Spring.

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