I Am a Real Swinger

I had intended to write a very philosophical post about Easter, resurrection, and what the ideas of spring rebirth could mean to us today, other than the obvious religious ones. It just wasn’t coming together, so I looked at blog post suggestions from several websites. I didn’t get any specific ideas there, but while doing it an old favorite poem come to mind. So, I shall write about that. After all, we do need a bit of frivol in this unfrivolous time.

When I was very young, I had a swing which was a thick rope with a board seat hung from a limb of a black walnut tree in the front yard. I loved that swing. I could sit there for long times, singing to myself and making up stories with my imaginary playmates. I knew the “friends” weren’t real, but I enjoyed them. It was there that I began developing the imagination that has served me well over the years.

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Thwarted Plan?

There are some of us who feel like whoever is writing the big story of the universe has put us in the wrong chapter. We think we know just the way things should be and how to get everything to come right, but it doesn’t always work according to our plan. However, sometimes, if we manage to recognize it, we see what we get is better than we could have imagined. Some stay put and have a better outcome than if they had left. Others have to go looking for their personal paragraph in the correct chapter. That is the stuff of the story I want to share with you this time. 

 

The Anchoress of Timber County

Wilburta Jenkins was an odd one, and she would have been odd in any group here in Timber County. Some folks thought she put on airs. “Gettin’ above herself,” they said. She wasn’t like all the other girls around here. She didn’t take to cleaning and cooking like other girls did. Her mother bought her a Little Homemaker set when she was five or so. You know, one of them sets with a little broom, kid size, and a dustpan—things like that. Well, Wilburta didn’t go around pretend cleaning like her mother expected. Wilburta left it all to lie outside until it rusted, and her mother had to throw it away. Wilburta preferred to sit under an old gnarled walnut tree in the front yard. She’d set there for all time, just looking at the clouds and the leaves and sometimes talking to a raggedy doll that she kept with her.

 

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Moral Courage

I’m late with this blog, and I have no excuses. I do, however, have a reason. I had an idea for this post. I had a fair amount of material to include, but it just wasn’t coming together. I really couldn’t feel it, if you know what I mean. That is until the middle of the week.

You see, I have been following the political situation, and maybe that is part of what was getting me down. Mitt Romney and Joe Manchin have exhibited what is commonly called moral courage. Both stood against the majority and voted Trump guilty.

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You Gotta See This

Hey! Watch this!

Was there ever a child who didn’t yell this command to a parent or playmate when they were about to accomplish what, to them, was a courageous feat? Well, I’m not about to attempt a cannonball or a jump from some height, but with childlike enthusiasm, I am going to suggest some movies that I have enjoyed over the years. These movies I have watched more than once and am likely to keep on watching them for years to come. Some are the old, old black and white classics, some more modern, with color and everything.

Let’s do this chronologically, shall we?

The Thin Man 1934

William Powell and Myrna Loy star as Nick and Nora Charles. He is a former detective who married wealthy Nora and no longer has to work. Together they investigate murders because they get pulled into them either by knowing a family member of the deceased or knowing the deceased. It is often Nora who wants to get involved and pulls Nick in after her. She thinks investigating is thrilling.

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