I Remember September 11

I remember the sun was shining;
That still amazes me when I think back
To the edge of where I sat, reclining
While the silver lining became a crack

And I watched the sky fall on my TV.
I remember my kids were doing math
When the phone rang, their world having changed…we
Chanted “Our Father” and tried to do math

In front of the TV, because of glue
On the couch. (But the math didn’t last long.)
I remember my kids building Legos, too,
At my feet, building, in the face of wrong.

Methinks this is what the sun had up his sleeve-
I remember; and I still believe.

Speaking of Green

At a Narnia chat group I went to over the weekend, we discussed the The Horse and His Boy, which, at times, feels a bit like a tale from the Arabian Nights, and to me, is proof that Lewis could've told a story to save his life, if some night (after night) he found himself in Arabia, with a need to do so.

For one thing, I think Narnia is far more enchanting. For another, the grass is really greener on the Narnian side of the fence. Literally. Narnia, green grass. Arabia, sand.

Besides the particular mention of the green grass of Narnia, Aslan's eyes are green, as was the wall with the hole to Narnia. Green is significant, and signifies good, in The Horse and His Boy. There, it is the green season, just like it is here. In The Silver Chair, green tells a different story, as the wicked witch wears a green dress, and takes the form of a green serpent. (Serpents are always bad.)

Tolkien used a green motif in LOTR as well. For instance, the stone Aragorn found on his way to Rivendale, that he took to be a sign of hope, was green. Green means hope, is good, in LOTR.

Green was also good on our plates at the Narnia chat. One of the ladies brought green peppers, cucumbers, and celery, which I thought was so aestetically pleasing considering the green theme. Not to mention it is the green season and all.

It was so aesthetically pleasing, I stole her idea and decided to keep a good thing going, and bought some green grapes, honeydew, kiwi, and Oreos (with green mint filling) for breakfast the next morning. (Yes, we had Oreos for breakfast. Does anyone really have a problem with that, other than jealousy? And yes, I did intend to make green eggs, but forgot the food coloring.)

The Green Season

My joints are crunchy, like September leaves-
Orange, like a burnt sunset, with splashes
Of the spectrum: a bat of my eyelashes…
And what you get is what I believe.

(I just hope what I believe is what you see.)
May it be obvious like my green eyes,
And the pretty grass on the other side
Where I lay me down, and up is all I see.

Except for the sky, it’s hard to be blue-
Rain and/or shine, things come up green
Like hope growing wild, and yet serene,
In sync with my eyes, the lens of my view.

My shades are evergreen, tinted with promise;
May this slay within my doubting Thomas.

The Vacation Files

The last day in the Outerbanks is about done. All that remains is to pack up the car and go. Which isn't as easy as it may sound. Somehow, even though we didn't go anywhere to accumulate anything, not to mention the fact that we consumed some consumables we came with, we end up scratching our heads and jumping up and down upon the rear door to make the lady stop saying "the rear door is ajar" which, frankly drives me crazy even before we've hit the road. If only we could leave her behind, I'm sure everything would fit just fine.

It's late in the afternoon, so we will definitely have to play "I spy a Starbucks" as soon as we buckle up for safety. I believe I am in first place, having spotted the most on the way here. Although, if you want to know the truth, there aren't nearly enough for my driving needs. Matt, besides riding shotgun, generally is my Starbucks navigator (he is a good son, always watching out for his mum) and in 2nd. He's the official tallykeeper as well, (but you have to keep an eye on him because he will try and slip a BP sign by you, if you're not paying attention) and has the official score in his little notebook where we also keep track of license plates we see on holidays.

I had my last cup of coffee and dose of Donne on the beach this morning, and then my last 4 mile walk along the seashore. My sunburnt feet testify that I have holidayed hard, if nothing else. And though I will not say I am done with Donne, I am quite done with the sand in my hair. But I do have a feeling the sand is not done with us and that we will be finding stowaway sand for weeks.

And one last sandy sonnet:

Unphased

My constancy’s like the waves on the shore-
Times flowing, times ebbing, in this consistent.
And, with waning waves, left repentant
Which Your kindness likes to lead me toward.

Melt me like the waves melt the sand under
My sunburnt feet. May I sink down, deep down
In this, the grace that I grip my toes around.
And may this be my steady source of wonder

Which steadies me, regardless of the phase
Of the moon, and whether he smiles on me
Or not. Lest I wane glorifying Thee
Let me not be needy of his waxing gaze.

But Your gaze, alone, this is what I need
And the love behind your eyes is my creed.

The Vacation Files

2nd to last day on the beach and my i, k, and comma keys all have sand in their lungs and are being very stubborn. It's almost as if I have to throw a fit pressing them to show up on my screen. Either that, or I could be just as stubborn and just leave them out of my wrtng altogether. I think most people can read beyond a few little i's and all that. At least I've read on the internet that they can.

So we sang hymns by fireside on the beach last night. After we made smores. Dave L. said that it doesn't get much better than that, and I was right there on the same track of thought.

This morning all the dolphins have gotten used to us and have been delighting us all by swimming right behind all of our boogie borders. I have snapped a hundred futile photos trying to capture them. But my shutter can't keep up with their peek-a-boo speed, or they are just shy.

Almost everybody is on the beach just now. You can just feel the vacation winding down in the air. A week of sand and sun and everybody was slower rising today. You know it's late in the week when I'm up first to make the coffee. But it looks as if everyone is out there for the long haul. There is a cooler full of Coronas and even limes. Which means, it's time for me to head back to the beach.

But first, here is what I found in the bottom of my coffee cup this morning.

Sonnet in the Sand

The sand on this shore is like a sonnet-
Each grain, it’s own verse, like Abraham’s sons
Who numbers past the grains, stars, promised ones…
To me, sitting here, musing upon it.

Just another grain, just like the sand
Weaving in between my toes and my thoughts
Ebbing, flowing, with the waves and their plots
To take it with the tide, out of my hands

Which, though much smaller hands, itch, like Donne’s did
To write sonnets to the Savior, even if
They are only in the sand, and erased with
The sand castles, where my footprints are hid.

Scratching my itch, I scribble to Him, who
Made the sand, but then wrote in it too.

Life's a Beach
The Vacation Files

Day 2 on the beach and it's a might nippy out there. (Read as a chronicle, and not a complaint.)The goosebumps were multiplying so fast out on the beach this morning that I lost my balance and spilled coffee on my sarape. After my beach umbrella inverted and went parasailing. It was so chilly (how chilly was it?) that the coffee didn't burn by the time it seeped through to my skin. But the wind did. That is, on top of yesterday's sunburn. The point, is that somewhere between the cool morning air and the caffeine in my cup, I find that I have arisen and am shining, a wee bit after the sun, but at least it's still daytime.

My daily dose of Donne on the beach was Holy Sonnet number 1: Thou Hast Made Me. Warms the soul, even if one's coffee doesn't warm the body. And it has twice the caffeine. "Repair me...and when towards Thee by Thy leave I can look, I rise again...Thy Grace may wing me...and Thou like adamant draw mine iron heart." Things that make me say "amen".

And when I was done with Donne, I was not done until my muse amused me with my own holy sonnet:

The Odds are that I will Rise and Shine

The sun rose quite a while before I did
If you can call what I did arising.
I stumbled down to the beach to rid
The sleep from my eyes, all the while prizing

A cup of coffee in my left hand,
A clove in the right (which took ten matches
To light because the waves and the wind).
But I didn’t mind; I’ve plenty of matches.

And it was a good game we were playing:
Me trying to shine (light up) like the sun
And all the while the wind and the waves laying
Bets and blowing out matches—but I won.

They do not obey me when I say “Be still”
But the One they do made it His good will.

The Happiest Anglican
(or the HA-Files)

A while back, Axegrinder, an Anglican blogger whose blog this happiest Anglican frequents, wrote this post: http://axegrinder.blogspot.com/2006/04/what-i-like-about-you.html, about how, if I may sum up, (though please do go read his lovely blog) he digs the prayer book prayers. The sentiment, not to mention the alluded to song, has been skipping around the four corners and both hemispheres, not to mention the medulla oblongata, of my mind, like a broken record, or for my younger readers, like when you program the settings on your IPOD to repeat a song, over and over and over.

So I thought I would add a special feature to my blog, in which I will count and recount the blessings that slip off the big dipper, which I like to think that God has positioned just over my head, now that we are becoming Anglican. Reformed Episcopalian, if you feel like getting all technical about it or googling what in the world the Reformed Episcopalian Church is. Here’s a head start: http://rechurch.org/recus/recus/index.html, and more specifically: http://www.trinityrechurch.org/.

With a cheers to Axegrinder, I would like to piggy back on his train of thought, and begin by saying that “What I Like About You (Anglican Church) is that you really know how to pray”.

Case in point: We have recently moved into a new home, and in addition to meeting with Father Manto, and his gracious wife, in order to speak to them about becoming members of Trinity, we had asked him to pray over our new home. And, as we are quickly learning that there is an Anglican prayer for nearly everything, there is, indeed, even a prayer to bless a new home. Which Father Manto did, as we all stood around the island in my new kitchen. How cool is that? Definite HA-vibes still bouncing off my daffodil colored walls and all throughout my new home.