Journal entries that didn’t make it until now

Son Gordon's azaleas--this year - Florida panhandle

             Here’s a document written and saved in the computer in late 2012. There’s no notation that it has been published. If you happen to recognize parts of it, please forgive.

Visualize this: “The (car) window slid down.” (in a newspaper crime story) And this: “The truck drove off.” (another crime account). How about: “The organ played…”

“. . . lamestream media” – Leonard Pitts Jr., McClatchy newspapers. NOW: You know what some call the media today.

My paperback dictionary finally came apart at the “o” s. I tossed it and my BFF gave me a portable, large print dictionary. Thanks, Dot, I’ve used it many, many times

NOW: I have something in common with Taylor Swift, 27 (same age as grandson Billy): “I love a good flea market,” she told Parade magazine back a ways.

            THEN: One day last week, I made a quick trip to Arkadelphia. Kid Billy had left his choir folder on the piano.

On the way through Benton, I stopped at Goodwill to see if they had a blue solid tie and a red solid tie, which he said he could use.

Next stop was Payless where I purchased two pair of brown shoes—one less dressy but laced, one darker but slip-on. Because his socks in the wash were such rags, I also selected a 6-pack of tube socks and a like number of low-cut socks. Making arrangements with the clerk to return with the pair of shoes and pack of socks that he didn’t want, I took off south.

Just so happened that when I got to the Caddo River—our traditional calling landmark—I found him in Caddo--the HSU cafeteria. He directed me to a meeting place. But, saying he had food waiting for him, he politely took all the purchases without even looking at them, thanked me kindly and directed me off the campus. So much for returns. It’s a good thing I had a $15-off coupon! Today, he buys his own shoes.

While that close to Bismarck, I called a writer friend who was soon to move to Durham, NC, and asked her if she could meet me at Cracker Barrel for lunch. “I’ll see you in a couple minutes,” she crowed. We had the best visit, the longest visit, the most personal visit in all our friendship which dated back to when Billy and I lived in Arkadelphia. (from 1997-2002) 

Thirteen minutes to peel a dozen boiled large eggs? While halving eggs for deviling: I found that yolks are in different places within the egg—some at the ends, some in the middles. NOW: Yesterday, I boiled nine eggs brought by brother Guy who inherited hens when they bought a new domicile. A light bulb switched on: egg-and-olive sandwich! Oh, was it good, especially since I added a bit of red onion and some salad dressing.

The only 8-letter word with only one vowel: strength. A wine bottle indentation on the bottom is a “kick” or a “punt.”

NOW: Have a wonderful ride into April. I’ll be in the mountains before long.

Remnant of the Bryant class of 1954 that still meets for breakfast monthly. Plus a daughter of one.

Thinning – in all its meanings

a thinned-out trail in Eureka Springs

 . . . with each throb, he fretted at the thinning shell.  . . . and the dusk was thinning. . .  in thinning out the opposition . . . the extent of the thinning must depend on the vigor . . .  The final thinning should take place after . . .  the growth intended before thinning . . . slopes fall through ever-thinning pasture lands to sheer desert . . . attend to the thinning of spinach, onions, turnips . . . and thinning of fruit . . . thinning the plants at an early stage . . .the thinning, and topping of the beets.

Ahead of her was the darkness of a thinning forest. He opened the envelope and read the note, his lips thinning down almost to . . . The air cooled appre­ciably and the ever-thinning atmosphere caused . . . At the final thinning, they should be set from . . .

“Thinning” the body with Thin Mint cookies???? I think not! (Housekeeping 101 site) 
Judicious and timely thinning so as to allow the trees room . . .

My BFF Dot and I often talk about “thinning” out our domiciles. That means tossing, recycling (giving away included here), shredding and/ or sharing. Even a fellow writer claimed to be “going through papers (with the intent to toss as much as possible) . . .” And last year during Lent, I “thinned” daily and gave to SCJOHN, Saline County’s helping organization. Someone said the items were picked up quickly.

The two opening paragraphs are some of what Cortana found when I asked her for “sentences with ‘thinning’ in them.” It sounds like the word has only one basic meaning, doesn’t it?  

So I must decide, for the sake of my children and grandchildren, to “thin” my possessions. Where to begin? In my office is a surfeit of paper used on one side and waiting to be used on the other side. It’s probably four inches thick. Thin it down to one inch.

Four African violets crammed and jammed into their pots need thinning. The plant that I’ve already thinned into six parts/ pots could use a thinning of the longer, outer leaves to give the center leaves more energy to heal from the surgery.

In the living room, two “crates” of CDs need new homes. Books bought for future reading that have sat for eight-to-ten years might need rethinking—and sharing with Friends of the Library.

And how long to keep tax information? Two sites, both IRS, gave anywhere from three to seven years. OK, I can shred several years’ worth of those. (But first, I must file this year’s taxes!)

What about cupboards and cabinets and closets and drawers and open shelves with knick-knacks--some gifts, some ‘fleas’? Can I toss anything that doesn’t have a pear motif? No, indeed. That would include bluebird coasters from one sister, ‘sister’ plaques from other sisters.

What I CAN do is quit collecting either blue glass or pear-motif pieces. Aw, but that’s no fun. Maybe I’ll ‘rethink’ thinning altogether.

Already down to one cat. Now to 'thin the books.'

Might these photos send you to the local plant nursery?

A little too early for these beauties in central Arkansas

Wild violets are blooming here and there; a lot more to come.

Kerria (Yellow Rose of Texas, I called them) in full bloom in the back yard.

Lynn Hoggard's lilac. My lilac in the dooryard died, replaced by a Knockout rose.

African violets resulting from ONE gift plant do well in Lydia Cheatham's west window.

These flowers bloomed much earlier this winter and are only to be found inside in vases.

Pansies blooming in the Garland County Library's east bed a couple years ago. Mine are still in the pots I brought home

Spirea really showed out this season, though it has now turned into foliage.

This year's japonica, or flowering quince, seemed much pinker and more lush than before.

Thrift is in its season right now. My wall is nearly covered.

Back before I took all Mom's curtains down after her death in 2006. These flowers have bloomed at Couchwood for countless years. Hopefully, they will continue to do so.

PL - March 12 2017

(This post is a tribute to Elephant's Child, who posts photos "languishing in my files." She lives in Canberra, Australia.)