monday's mulling: virgo

Back in the day of hard copy newspapers, I read my horoscope every day. It's fun to read about the Zodiac signs, seeing if you fit into the particular qualities of your sign. And boy, oh boy, Virgo is definitely me and vice versa.

Virgos are the perfectionists of the Zodiac. 

Typical Virgo traits include being detail-oriented, perfectionistic, a fan of routine and lists and organization (although they can be conventionally neat and tidy in certain ways, like drooling over kitchen pantry organization, and totally sloppy in others, like leaving piles of clothes on their floor for days on end 😊), health-conscious, sensitive, giving, analytical, and masters of research. 

Every sign is assigned a quality (cardinal, mutable, or fixed), which explains the sign's basic energy. There's a cardinal, mutable, and fixed sign within every element (fire, earth, air, water). Virgo is the mutable one of the earth group, which makes them more flexible than other signs and interested in hearing many sides of an issue before making a decision. In fact, it's for this very reason that they can struggle to reach a conclusion, but once they do, you can rest assured they've left no stone unturned while gathering pertinent information.

Virgo's perfectionism and tendency to be their own worst critic can take a toll in just about every area of their life. Overthinking and overanalyzing (I do drive myself nuts), their minds can often switch into overdrive, turning up the volume on their insecurities. This can manifest as procrastination or projecting their inner nitpicking onto others. (This whole paragraph...yes, yes, YES!)

That said, Virgos are capable of adapting and shifting when necessary, and multitasking is our forte. We like to feel that we're contributing and making a difference on the job. Virgos come off as down-to-earth, approachable, social, communicative, and eager to find solutions at every turn.

busy bee

On the lone sunflower in the recently planted sunflower field, a single bumblebee diligently gathers pollen.

The moment a bee lands on a flower, the pollen gets knocked off the florets and sticks to the bee's body. This busy one is having a field day...look at that pollen all over its body!

"The bee is more honored than other animals, not because she labors, but because she labors for others." — Saint John Chrysostom
 

let's talk about flowers

I subscribe to a poem-a-day newsletter, Poetry Town, written by George Bilger. Every day George selects a poem he really likes and then writes a short commentary why he chose this poem. 

The news coming from the US in the past few days has been horrific. As George says in his commentary, "Talking about flowers is just what we need." But we do need more than to talk about flowers. The broader picture is we need face-to-face connections, the human touch, rather than experiencing life through phone or computer screens. Evil has become content and humanity has become scrollable. We're losing the one thing that makes us human, the ability to feel. I am very aware that the political arena plays a big part in peoples' behaviors and that our members of Congress need to enact some tighter gun control legislation and that's as political as I'm going to get. 

So now, We need to talk about flowers 🌸 🌸 🌸 🌸 or other things that brought a bit of happiness to you this week.

We

by Carl Dennis

I’m gratified by the use of the word “we” In the sentence my neighbor utters quietly As she stands in her driveway, in her yellow raincoat: “We really needed this rain,” A “we” that includes not only a gray-haired White man And a Black woman whose hair is still dark but also Some of the green life we’ve gathered about us: The pin oaks and silver maples, the holly And lilac and dogwood, whose ancestors Did what they could to make a home here Millions of years before our ancestors Walked down the gangway of a steamer from Bremen Or were led in chains from a sailing ship That had left Sierra Leone two months before. We need this rain to remind us we don’t dwell In a desert we have to cross to reach a promised land. Here we are in the land of promises Kept and not kept that we’ve promised ourselves To be concerned with. Look how these trees Are concerning themselves with the rain That the grass is already welcoming With many shades of a deeper green.

__________

From Earthborn, Penguin Books, 2022.

Why I Chose This Poem My neighbor two houses down is Black, and a wonderful gardener. Over the twenty years I’ve known him we’ve stood in his front yard countless times, talking about his roses, his perennials, the whimsical border of wildflowers he’s planted along the sidewalk. Not once have we talked about race. Talking about flowers is just what we need.

the friday feed: another corny haiku

 Golden crust is warm

Sweet or savory delight

Taste of simple joy.

Taste of simple joy? Nah, don't think so.

I don't like cornbread. Never cared for it from the first time I tasted it when I was in second grade in Owensboro, Kentucky. Cornbread was a regular part of the lunch menu. That and black-eyed peas...double yuck. We moved to Kentucky from Wooster, Ohio, and this little northern girl had never had tasted cornbread in her entire life. 

I tried to eat the cornbread, to be a clean plate clubber, to fit in with all the other kids who ate this stuff like it was a treat. No one forced me to eat it and no one made fun of me for not eating it. In fact, that's how I made a lot of friends. Those kids who liked cornbread knew I wouldn't eat it so they asked me if they could have my cornbread, their taste of simple joy. 

wednesday's words and wanderings and wonderings

Welcome to Wednesday's post on Thursday. I didn't feel well on Tuesday, slept most of the day, and as hard as I tried, writing this post just didn't happen. It was like something sucked all the energy out of me and it took great effort just to think.

Gotta start with the grandbabies. My little granddaughter is half a year old. Six months! Time does fly when you're a grandparent. From the parents' perspective, the days are long but the years are short. Regardless of how the time passes, watching little people grow up is such a joy.

While I was in Chicago babysitting AJ, Todd was in Cleveland for the season opening football game for the Cleveland Browns. My son and his buddies have been hosting tailgate parties for Browns games for many years. This year was Owen's 4th Opening Day tailgate and Hallie made her debut appearance.

  

Chicago doings: 

• An architectural tour on the river. This is a 90 minute cruise for $45.00 to learn about the architects and their buildings that shaped the Chicago skyline. If you break it down, that's 50¢ a minute for a lovely, information-filled boat ride...what a bargain! 

• The Logan Square farmers' market. Sunday morning my girls and I drove to Logan Square, a beautiful historic neighborhood located on Chicago's northwest side. Its farmers market is open on Sundays and it's full of fresh vegetables, gorgeous flowers, homemade breads, cooked foods. If I hadn't been getting on a plane in a few hours and staying a day or two longer, I would have had a shopping heyday!

I love taking walks in my daughters' neighborhoods. The urban neighborhoods are older and offer so much to see. I particularly like the ornamental wrought iron fences in front of the homes with their varied designs.

And it's always fun to find an Ohio reference when out-of-state. This is a little hard to read but this gate was made in Ohio at the Cincinnati Iron Fence Co. This company was founded in 1905 and went out of business in 1971. I hope the owners appreciate the treasure they have. My daughter asked, "How did you ever see that, Mom?" Details...it's all about the details.

let's talk about the weather

Everyone loves to talk about the weather. Even the New York Times "Strands" game hit on words that describe Summer Weather: BALMY, SWELTERING, STICKY, MUGGY, SCORCHING. It's been all of these during these summer months. One that isn't included is HUMID. You walk outside you instantly sweat. See I'm already talking about the weather.

So why do people like to talk about the weather so much? 

Lots of people make fun of talking about the weather, but it's a really great small-talk topic. It's an equalizer because it affects everyone no matter who they are. You might be a CEO and I might just be serving you coffee, but if it's raining today we probably both got wet. 

The weather is also a safe and neutral topic because it's unlikely to offend or cause disagreement, like religion or politics. If it leads to talking about climate change then things might get a little testy or if it shifted to raining for 40 days and 40 nights that could go down another path. 

It can be an opportunity for bonding, for sharing experiences about the freezing cold or unbearable heat or marvel of last night's beautiful sunset. It impacts our plans, our clothing choices, and our moods. The weather is always relevant.

Today I'm working the morning shift at the farm. I'm wearing jeans, a t-shirt, and a long sleeve pullover. The sun is shining. It's cool to start and warms up as the day goes on. Layering is the way to staying comfortable. I will guess that 90% of the people who come up to pay for their produce will comment on this beautiful day. And that's OK because they're happy about it.

And so that, my friends, is a very quick run down of why we talk about the weather so much. It's not because we’re filling awkward space and time and trying to appear more interested than we are and not because we actually care about the weather. Because we are trying to build a connection. And if we have nowhere to begin, why not begin with the weather? And also share a poem about the weather? (We haven't had any rain in Ohio for a few weeks now and I found this delightful poem, so here you go!)

Weather

• 
• 
• 
• 

Eve Merriam

1916 –

1992

Dot a dot dot dot a dot dot
Spotting the windowpane.

Spack a spack speck flick a flack fleck
Freckling the windowpane.

A spatter a scatter a wet cat a clatter
A splatter a rumble outside.

Umbrella umbrella umbrella umbrella
Bumbershoot barrel of rain.

Slosh a galosh slosh a galosh
Slither and slather a glide

A puddle a jump a puddle a jump
A puddle a jump puddle splosh

A juddle a pump a luddle a dump
A pudmuddle jump in and slide!

From Catch a Little Rhyme, published by Macmillan, 1966. Used with permission.

monday's mulling: chicago

Last Thursday I drove to the Dayton airport and boarded a Chicago-bound plane. My future daughter-in-law's bachelorette party was in Chicago and I was the one to ask my daughter, "Do you want me to come to babysit AJ?" Nothing like taking the bull by the horns!

The flight from Dayton to Chicago takes all of 45 minutes and I had planned my window seat to get photos of the skyline. Wouldn't you know on a gorgeous, clear day my seat halfway lined up with the window and in the seat ahead of me, the woman's bright yellow sweater reflection took away all possibilities of taking a photo of that beautiful skyline along the shore of Lake Michigan. C'est la vie.

My daughter very kindly offered to pick me up from O'Hare but I told her I have always wanted to take the train from the airport to the station close to her house and that's what I did. Walk down two levels to the train platform, tap my credit card, hop on the Blue Line, and 30 minutes later I'm in my daughter's car for the last three miles of my trip. So easy.

And here's my little guy. He has grown so, so much since I last saw him three months ago. He is 19 months old and it's incredible how much growth has happened in this short time. He is now walking (and he's fast!), saying so many words (we had a lot of jibber-jabber conversations), he loves books (I loved reading Brown Bear, Brown Bear, What Do You See? at least 10 times a day!), playing at the playground, and going for walks with "Beep-Beep." He's a little snuggler and best of all, HE SAYS "DIDI!" (That's me 🙂) One more thing my little guy does, he gives kisses, and he gave me a lot of them before my daughter took me to the airport. I told her I'd take the train but she insisted on driving and those one-on-one car conversations with an adult child and without distractions are extra special.

The flight home was just as quick and easy as the flight to Chicago. We did have to wait an extra 10 minutes for take off because of some connecting baggage needing to be loaded but that was no big deal. A rather large man was in the seat next to me (this was a small plane with small seats) and I asked him if he wanted the middle arm rest up, but he declined.

Chicago O'Hare is a big bustling airport and the James M. Cox Dayton International Airport is not. My flight landed at 7:15 p.m. (19:15) and there weren't took many people around. It was so quiet. I hopped right on the shuttle bus to take me to my car and instead of driving the construction-laden I-75, I took the back way - the road less traveled - and that made all the difference for the ending of a perfect trip.