Disappointment

A long-time small pleasure is morning coffee and the newspaper. This morning the wrong paper was delivered -- The NYT arrived instead of The Dallas News.   Disappointing. What could I read with my coffee?

 

I picked up the most recent World magazine, the one with a cover shot of a Japanese mother and her children picking through the debris from the earthquake and tsunami in March,  and caught up on the news that no longer grabs headlines here.

The consequences of the tsunami aren’t cleared up, literally or psychologically. Piles of trash and human pain abound – the Japanese “. . . want people to listen and they are asking for hope.”  (article)

God was good to shake me awake, reminding me that the comfort of a routine, simple pleasures, are not rights; life is not about me enjoying what I like.  Life is more than counting my blessings – it is being a blessing: thinking about others – serving and giving and getting over mistakes that other people make.

This brings me to a concluding disappointment – one that comes not from another person’s error, but a deliberate ploy.  Watching the news, one might think that the run for the White House now matters.  Tomorrow all the breathless reporting of the polls, etc will not matter. What will matter is if the voters understand the issues. My hope is that more reporters and their bosses will report the news about

·      How our kids are performing academically (and socially);

·      What it’s like to use a hospital’s services;

·      How we make crude oil into gasoline;

·      Why can’t we get mortgages;

·      What’s involved in getting a BA today, compared to fifty years ago;

·      How do farmers make money;

·      What is the history and science of water and air pollution in the USA;

·      What is capitalism;

·      What is socialism;

·      What is the history of pirates in the western hemisphere;

·      Why do people want to come to the USA

·      What is the state of our public libraries and museums?

That would fill week’s worth of programming – and I could learn something I might be able to use tomorrow. But the advertisers might not agree.

P.S. Within an hour the distributor for The Dallas News swapped papers.

Sleep

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We moved! Slumber party at

http://autumns-garden.com/when-sleep-seems-like-the-impossible-dream/

The End of Summer

 

September 23, 2011 is weeks away, the official end of summer. But today is Labor Day – and the temperature is 69 degrees – with an anticipated high of 86! However many hot days may come, the triple digits appear to struck their tents and departed.

A photograph from last Labor Day shows a few of the roses we enjoyed through out the end of August and into September. What a difference a few months of 100+ days can make, huh? Perhaps the cool weather will comfort those old rose bushes . . . until rains can deeply revive their roots? Living through an almost record –setting time  has been a wee bit wearing, and expensive.  But because of air conditioning, perhaps a contributor to the high temperature according to some, we did better than the roses in our back yard.

Growing up, I dreaded Labor Day; it meant getting back into academic harness again. It also was the day our community pool closed, ending the days of unstructured hours, and all the promises spring made as she slipped into summer. When we were ourselves pool owners, I felt daring keeping our pool open beyond this holiday – as if I were breaking an unwritten rule.  Keeping it open staved off the feelings of regret about all I did not accomplish [again] with so much free time.

By the way, those unwritten rules about the end of summer still affect me; they include no white or patent leather shoes. And today I am somewhat anxious to set aside summer purses, summery jewelry, and all the linen apparel, although the anxiety is manageable with another cup of coffee and the prospect reading a good book, outside on our patio. 

Hope your day, dear reader, is blessed with relief, rest and renewal. Some borrowed thoughts to share on this refreshingly cool (but dry) Dallas morning:  

• Take rest; a field that has rested gives a bountiful crop.  ~Ovid
• God give me work, till my life shall end
  And life, till my work is done. ~Epitaph of Winifred Holtby (a 20^th century English novelist)