Love is Spoken Here

Are they more than just words on a card?

Love is spoken here.

These words could be trite, overused, or just a pretty saying.

Are they more?

Maybe those who send or utter, "Love is spoken here," are well meaning and sincerely offer encouragement, love, and affection.

Do words speak louder than actions? Or is it the other way around?

Do my actions shout in agreement with my quiet words or engage in battle between what I want to do and say and what I actually do and say? Sometimes the answer is both.

Love is spoken here.

Love is shown here.

Love is experienced here.

Love grows here.

Love is here.

Love is.

Love.


These thoughts remind me of the often used love verses for wedding ceremonies, though I think love is not just for marriages. You can read them in 1 Corinthians 13.

What do you think of when you consider love?

Old Words

 I was preparing to take a relaxing bubble bath in my claw foot tub last night when I saw a wadded up log of newspaper on the floor.

The paper log was actually old newspaper. Old 1949 newspaper.

It was super dusty and fragile, so I didn't undo it, but went ahead and enjoyed my bath, contemplating the sudden arrival of newspaper in the bedroom.

This morning, long after honey had gone to work, I noticed the newspaper had been carefully unrolled and somewhat flattened.

That was when I saw the date on the antique (or is it vintage?) Seattle Times. Sunday, March 27, 1949. Fascinating.

I do love looking at old newspapers, especially the ads. Odd, I realize, but the price comparisons between then and now are amusing and sad. The articles in this bundle also told tales of the times - fashions, comics, businesses, and even child rearing and feeding advice.

This was no ordinary newspaper. It was mystery newspaper that had been recycled to provide padding for an old wood and woven jute chair. We didn't even know it was stuffed. Look at how creative folks were at repurposing way back before the word was even in use.

Now we know more about the chair (it is older than both of us) and the news of the day from several decades ago.

Words are valuable. No matter how old or in what format they are discovered.

What are some words that are valuable to you?

Read to Me

"Nana, read this to me."

I was happy to read a stack of 10 books to my 4-year-old granddaughter. This only worked because baby brother was fast asleep. Sister loves books.

Today, sister had another task for Nana. After busily writing on paper, she handed me her story.

"Nana, read this to me."

You can imagine I was a bit challenged. So I asked her to read it to me.

Khloe: I can't read.

Me: What is it about?

Khloe: Uhm, Lava Girl and Shark Boy.

Me: Ok. Once upon a time . . . Lava Girl and Shark Boy went on a picnic. They went swimming. They had a fun time. The end.

Khloe: No, you're not done yet.

Me: They had a flat tire and had to fix it.

Khloe: No.

Me: What else?

Khloe: (whispering to me) They help other people!

Me: Oh! Lava Girl and Shark Boy helped some people who had a flat tire. They helped fix the tire. Then they enjoyed their picnic. The end.

Khloe: (smiles and nods) Ok.

That was only the first story. She had another waiting in the wings. Nana was on call as storyteller.

I am pleased that she loves stories, writing, reading, and words. Literacy begins long before they reach school.

What is your favorite story to read aloud? I'd love to hear.

Home

Home. What a big word.

Home is . . .

where I reside
the body I wear
the spouse I adore
my family of love
the animals I adopt
the nature that surrounds me
the future I hope for
my faith that centers me
friends who nuture me
fellow writers who encourage me
the city of my residence
the state and country of my belonging
the planet I inhabit

Home is a big word.

What does home mean to you?

Hugh's Photo Challenge: Week 13 - Love

 

 

Love

 

 

partnership of years

 

evidence in rings worn thin

 

remembrance of love

 

 

Haiku

by Angie Quantrell

(2-17-16)

Gigantor and the Tiny Chair ~ A Haiku of Proportions

 

GIGANTOR

 

 

if there is a chair

 

find it and recline therein

 

size does not matter

 

 

CREAK. GROAN. WOBBLE.

 

 

What is your favorite chair?

Share a photo in the comment section.

Does it fit you well, or are you like Gigantor and size is not an issue,

just comfort?

Hugh's Photo Challenge: Week 11 - Rust

Rust

 

evocative form

contemplation of purpose

usefulness transformed



 

 

Haiku by Angie Quantrell, 2-4-16

I Love Hand-Me-Downs

I'm not above totally enjoying digging through a bag of my sister's hand-me-downs to pull out new-to-me favorites.

(That would be a literal hand-me-down, as I am older but much shorter than she.)

I also thrill to the seek-and-find treasures I discover at local thrift shops. In fact, the sweater (Mr. Roger's style cardigan, come in the house-trade the coat for a sweater style) I wear all the time is my best ever purchase from Goodwill.

Seriously. I think my family may be a tad bit exhausted of seeing me wear the same old sweater. Every. Single. Day.

But it is the best sweater! I know I look more granny-like wearing it, but it is comfy, broken in, not too hot, not too cold, but just right.

I've had this sweater for over 5 years, conservative estimate. It appears to be well made and may last for another 15. Score! I think I paid $1.99, maybe $2.99.

My husband and I enjoy keeping clothes long past the expiration date (yes, we are THAT couple). One of our favorite games is counting back to find out who is wearing the oldest outfit.

"I've had this shirt since Chelsie was 3," I said.

"Well, I bought these sweats when we were in England," replies the hubby.

"But I had this dress for Easter when we were in Wapato," I counter.

And on and on goes the battle.

It is our game. And our life. We are not ones for top of the line, current fashion, get rid of the old and buy new all the time. Some of you may be saying, quietly in your heads, "YES, we know! Go get some new clothes!!!" Maybe you are even yelling that, hoping we will hear.

It's OK. We are happy with our little game. I think, at heart, we are children of the depression, though we are not really old enough. We use every little thing until it is beyond use. And then maybe we can still find a use for the scraps that remain.

I'm thinking that's being a good steward of natural resources and God's providence. Recyling, repurposing, reusing.

Besides, it's fun.


I'd love to hear where you find your favorite clothes. Are you a scavenger like me? Let's share tips.