1. Paul Simon. There is a strong likelihood that a portion of my entire personality was composed of Simon and Garfunkel songs sometime during the 70's. So tonight, I download the greatest hits and his newest album and whole evenings of deep breaths and sitting long and still and enjoying eating and words and peace and soul-feeding music suddenly start arranging themselves on my calendar.
2. Nora tells me I'm "too busy all the time doing everything" and that she will try to do a few things so I don't have to "always be moving." We're watching the sun set together; she puts her arm around my shoulder, squeezes me in strong like someone much bigger and older than five. Suddenly she is protecting me--from this busy running and doing and "willy nilly back and forth." I want to tell her that she is as wonderfully made as this sunset, painted and imagined by the same Spirit. But she knows this.
3. Writing my three pages tonight (an assignment I've given myself and my writing class), I discover ink, the texture and beauty of it, how penmanship is as unique as a fingerprint. What does it mean? I consider taking a correspondence (no pun intended) course in graphology.
4. A rainbow falls from the window and onto the pledge Nora makes as a kindergarten student at St. John's as she signs her name: four little letters spread out wide and jagged on the line, the one she commits to, the one that speaks of peace and God's love.
5. No, thanksgiving is not "Pollyanna-ism" but at times, one of the hardest things I could think and feel to do.