Six word memoir

I want to play. I'm voluntarily joining in with Lucy's tag thing! My memoir (at least for today):

Seeing things positively. Still challengingly restless.

Please play - if you want to!

The promise of spring

I've always liked spring - with the sense of hope and vitality that it brings. This year it seems to me that spring lasted a long time (which is a good thing). The first snowdrops appeared in our garden in late January, and as I write we still have a crop of daffodils mixed in with our tulips and other things. The herbaceous plants that died off last autumn are unfurling their leaves, and generally things look not too bad.

That is, it doesn't look too bad if you look at the garden with a positive disposition. This brings me back to my theme of optimism and pessimism. Pessimistically, there are weeds sprouting everywhere, the lawn is mainly moss, the veg patches are weeks behind schedule, compost corner needs some serious attention etc, etc.

This year that's not the picture that sticks in my mind. Now I see the curled up hosta leaves preparing to spread and amaze; I see the dogwood coming into flower for the first time since we planted it; I see the ornamental bed that we planted up last year really taking shape; I see the rampant rhubarb; and also the berries beginning to form on the blackcurrant bushes (must remember to net them soon, before the birds have a feast!).

What has changed? To be honest, the garden hasn't changed much - it's always a mixture of fruitfulness and the promise of ever more hard work; order and mess; achievement and disaster. I think I'm looking at it in a different way. This is the first spring that I've had my new camera, so I'm literally looking at life through a different lens. It's the first year that I've been blogging, so I'm looking at things from another perspective. But I think that the real change is summed up by Lins' comment on, my recent post. I'm trying to be more positive in outlook.

Aye, I know, I can still be as grumpy as the grumpiest person in grumpy-land; and as cycnical as the most cynical person in cynic city, but I'm trying to look for the positive in every situation.

With this in mind, I was delighted to find this in an e-mail that I received recently:

Why does spring have such a powerful attraction? This may, of course, be mainly a feature of seasons in the earth’s temperate zones. Yet it does speak of resurrection, new life, regeneration and renewal, of the dormant brought out into exuberant life. And our delight in spring is a delight in a new earth washed clean, a promise of a new heaven and a new earth that will be both glorious and familiar. And also, I hope, a delight in love! Praise him!

- Margaret Killingray (LICC)

As a kind of celebration, I'm going to post some more spring photos over the next week or so - some from our garden, some from walks - all from this year. I've started with my favourite daffodil (don't know what it's called) from our garden.

Friday photo(s) - Bursting with life

Optimism and pessimism

I recently heard a phrase that seems to describe my mindset (most of the time). It was about being a ‘short-term pessimist and long-term optimist’.

The phrase came back to mind when Lins asked me a question over at That Hideous Man’s blog (are you keeping up with this?).

I think that there are many areas of life where ‘short-term pessimist and long-term optimist’ could be applied – but probably nowhere more than in the area of parenting. It’s the perfect description, especially during teenage years. At least that’s my experience to date, although I have to admit that the pessimist element often fails to materialise.

The blessings of location

We enjoyed a walk up Moncrieffe Hill today (practising for Dolly D's Duke of Edinburgh's Award expedition). It was a wonderful May day - warm sunshine, the vitality of spring all around us, and time spent together. Although it helped to highlight how out of shape I am, it also made me realise how good my life is in so many ways. Living in this part of the world fills me with joy and thankfulness.

And as you read this, spare a prayer for the people of Burma, who are not so fortunate at this time.

Friday photo: Seeing beauty in the ordinary

After housegroup

So we meet together every Tuesday night - have a chat, a cup of something, laugh together, study a chunk of the Bible, pray and then go our separate ways. Housegroup - for me the essential building block of the church. Intimacy, support, warmth - ye cannae beat it.

After a long or difficult day at work, it's sometimes hard to make the effort to go - and our group meets in our house! But it's always worth the effort. I may blog more about the significance of housegroups another time.

Tonight I want to briefly mention what I do after housegroup these days. We usually finish at about 10:00 p.m. and I head up to channel hop for half an hour before getting ready for bed etc. No channel hopping now though. It's straight to BBC2 to watch 'Later Live... with Jools Holland'. He presents a truly eclectic mix of music - some brilliant, some garbage. But fast becoming unmissable for me.

This week he introduced me to Melody Gardot - an outstanding young (22 I think) musician from Philadelphia. If you have access to the BBC's iPlayer - stop reading and go and watch it now...

... Are you still here??

If you don't have access you can find some of her stuff on YouTube. I've included a sample below. Enjoy!