Waiting for the Full Moon

An Advent Moon
And a poem for Advent:

Wait

Wait, for now.
Distrust everything if you have to.
But trust the hours. Haven’t they
carried you everywhere, up to now?
Personal events will become interesting again.
Hair will become interesting.
Pain will become interesting.
Buds that open out of season will become interesting.
Second-hand gloves will become lovely again;
their memories are what give them
the need for other hands. And the desolation
of lovers is the same: that enormous emptiness
carved out of such tiny beings as we are
asks to be filled; the need
for the new love is faithfulness to the old.
Wait.
Don’t go too early.
You’re tired. But everyone’s tired.
But no one is tired enough.
Only wait a little and listen:
music of hair,
music of pain,
music of looms weaving all our loves again.
Be there to hear it, it will be the only time,
most of all to hear
the flute of your whole existence,
rehearsed by the sorrows, play itself into total exhaustion.

~ by Galway Kinnell (1927 - 2014)

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Thanks to my literary friend Katie Field
for sending me this poem from the Writer's Almanac

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Click here to read some
previously posted poems
with a similar message.

And the coming New Year . . .

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Seems like we've been waiting all year,
but in no time it will feel late instead of early!

"How did it get so late so soon?
It’s night before it’s afternoon.
December is here before it’s June.
My goodness how the time has flewn.
How did it get so late so soon?
Dr. Seuss

Happy Boxing Day

December by Kate Greenaway
Somehow this year, I started falling behind right around Thanksgiving time, and here I am, the day after Christmas, still trying to catch up. I almost started to worry about how many ornaments are still in the boxes instead of on the trees and how many cards are still stacked on the kitchen counter instead of winging their way to you -- not to mention that I never even got around to making the Christmas Pudding! But then I happened to recall the important lesson learned by the Grinch Who Stole Christmas: Christmas will come, no matter what! It will come, and it will be happy, even if the cards are late:

Every Who down in Who-ville, the tall and the small,
Was singing! Without any presents at all!
He HADN'T stopped Christmas from coming!
IT CAME!
Somehow or other, it came just the same!

. . . It came without ribbons! It came without tags!
"It came without packages, boxes or bags!"
. . . Then the Grinch thought of something he hadn't before!
"Maybe Christmas," he thought, "doesn't come from a store.
"Maybe Christmas--perhaps--means a little bit more!"

from How the Grinch Stole Christmas!
by Dr. Seuss

So -- somehow or other, even without the pudding -- Christmas came!

We were not, however, without . . .

Gerry's specialty ~ Christmas Cake!

Cut - out Cookies from Katy

The Point About the Daub

Sam's Nightlight Project ~ 3rd Grade ~ Fall 2001
In honor of Sam's birthday, I thought I'd share an oft - used phrase that he contributed to our family vocabulary back in his days as a most insightful fourth - grader. A creative student, Sam completed many impressive projects during the early years of his education. On the one hand, he was fastidious in his attention to detail; on the other, he was also very efficient in getting to the heart of the matter.

Such was the case when working on his Viking longhouse, constructed of wattle and daub. First, he wove the wattle of twigs and brown pipe cleaners, and collected live moss for the rooftop.

Next, he concocted a very tasty daub out of peanut butter, Nutella, and dry oatmeal; spread this mixture over one exterior wall; and declared his project complete. I suggested that we could easily mix up another batch to cover the additional walls, but Sam is not a time - waster, and he was insistent: "Mom! I think we made the point about the daub!"

Sam's conclusion still comes in handy whenever someone (and, yes, I confess, it is often I) goes on too long about something. Remember the little Dr. Seuss character in Hop on Pop who says, "Good - by, Thing. You sing too long?" Well, in our house, we just roll our eyes and say, "I think you made the point about the daub!"