Here's to our flaws ... We've all got 'em ... (mildly macabre humour alert)

What sweet relief to come across this today at Whiskey River (altogether now, heave a happy sigh):

... I want to acknowledge my own imperfection; I want to understand that this is part of the endlessness of my growth. It's absolutely useless at this stage in your life, with all of the shit piled up in your closet, to walk around and try to kid yourself about your perfection. Out of the raw material you break down, you grow and absorb the energy. You work yourself from inside out, tearing out, destroying, and finding a sense of nothingness. But this somethingness -- ego and prejudices and limitations -- is your raw material. If you process and refine it all, you can open up consciously ...

(Albert Rudolph)

Ta-da!

~ Photo found at Gilding the Lily ~

Beloved Renee,

Your Angelique writes to us that your body is beginning to die. Oh, friend, what can I say but Thank you for your life.

If I was at your bedside right now I would gently snuffle my cheek into the nape of your neck, like I did with my mother as she was dying eight years ago. I would simply warm your skin with my breath and love you until you are gone. Or I would, as my sister did, tenderly trail my fingers through your hair, murmuring memories and offering my tears as your last sip of life.

But knowing me, I'd snuffle. I would just be there, breathing with you, keeping you warm, accompanying you to the threshold.

You are so loved ... You live on, Renee, already: in your constant, contagious kindness; in your sass and your whimsical eye; in your family, your beautiful brood, and all of your friends; in your presence -- your loving, loving presence ...



These words of Wendell Berry remind me of you:

In the dark of the moon, in flying snow, in the dead of winter,
war spreading, families dying, the world in danger,
I walk the rocky hillside, sowing clover.

May Love bless you and keep you, Renee ... Thank you for your life.

The Donald strikes again.

Imagine that. A man with a fake tan, fake hair, and no scientific cred adds his booming voice to a nitwits' choir ...

Lent already!

"Deep Winter Glow" by Jon Rattenbury


In the deep midwinter ... we tend to forget Spring. All is ice ... and dead.

Along comes Lent, promising Easter like Winter promises Spring.

Pop over here and let Fran blow your mind with one simple question. I've already posted two comments ... This promises to be a spiritually scintillating conversation!

Thanks, Fran ... You are a philosopher par excellence!



Thanks to artist Jon Rattenbury for the perfect image for this post ... Again, the promise of Spring ...

What an excellent whack upside the presidential head!

... with a h/t to Ellie for the 'toon ...

Cartoon time!

I'm being a lazy bum -- It's Sunday, after all, and I have always honoured the directive to pass the Sabbath in a soothing way! -- so I'm just going to post some cartoons that always give me a giggle. My brain is Sunday-mush, so there will be no profound, mind-blowing thoughts today. Just one teeny-weeny complaint about our southern Ontario winter. Seems that everywhere but here is getting "Snowmageddon" ... I have a friend in Virginia who says her neck o' the woods got 18 inches yesterday ... Washington is digging out from under the white stuff ... Better that than digging out from under piles upon piles of hot air and political bullshit, yes?