Lines

This song is on high rotation around here since our friends Chris and Ashlee turned me onto it.

I look at the little creases around my eyes and wonder at how many hours of laughing it took to etch them there. The wrinkles that crowd my forehead when I squint or frown will become more prominent in time...testament to those days that end in frustration and moments I wish had never happened. But I'm glad that there are fewer of them than the laugh crinkles around my eyes and the little crescents on the edges of my mouth that are reminders of grins gone by. All of these lines upon my face, tell you the story of who I am.

The Care and Feeding of Roses

It is the Labor Day holiday weekend, no work on Monday. In homage to the "labor" bit of Labor Day, I got up early to do sheet washing, cabinet wipe downs, followed by supervising the kids in the pool.

My rose bushes are mere feet from the pool, and in classic feminine multi-tasking syndrome, I thought to dead-head them, pull weeds from around their bases, and clip out any bad/diseased places.

They are Knock-out Roses. Lovely shade of hyper pink that bloom 8 months out of the year. As I worked I reflected on the fact that rose bushes, and their care, are a metaphor for life. Dead heads that are removed, fading older blooms replaced continually by new, tightly wrapped buds. Unseen thorns that prick and scratch at soft flesh. They grow better each new season with a bit of pruning and one must keep vigilant for pests and fungus while providing the right amount of water and fertilizer. But the end result is worth all the effort and work.