Reflections on Cool Clear Sunday

Storms flew through last night with no damage to report, thank heavens. 

Talking to a friend the other day, I made the comment, "I'm still mad at myself for not going to the
National Cowboy and Western History Museum to see the Spiro Mounds exhibit when it was there this last winter.  I know I had good excuses, but I really wanted to see it." 

Missing out on events bothers me more now than ever. I may not have another opportunity to see that exhibit. The feelings became rather visceral in me as I pondered how to live the next thirty years of my life. Yes, I'm an optimist and have plans for this one wild and precious life, that poet Mary Oliver so aptly described. She also wrote:

"Instructions for living a life.

Pay attention.

Be astonished.

Tell about it."

I want to remember LIFE and LIVING, and it would help if I started with yesterday, or what was I thinking about doing before I sat down to write?? This is how and why I began this weekly column: Reflections on a Rainy Summer Sunday

The Trails Golf Course, Norman

Three of us played golf Saturday, and noticed four baby mallards wandering around without mother nearby.  A couple of hundred yards away lay their dead mother mallard  Dead from hitting the power lines, not an errant golf ball.  Her neck was broken and our hearts cried.  When we drove by there an hour later no one had removed her body. So with prayers in our hearts, I walked over, picked her cold body up with a towel, then carried her to a graveyard of tall grasses.  "Bless her gentle soul, dear Lord, and watch after her babies." 

I know this is nature as it is meant to be.  Many times in my childhood I recall my father bringing home a nest of wild baby bunnies  We worked so hard to save them,, but wild bunnies are not meant for children and neighborhoods without fences.  

How sad, I think, what life must be for children and parents living in Afghanistan, and other parts of the warring world.

First bite of the season.

The best news of the week is that our garden burst open with fresh tomatoes. I know it is truly summer when I can eat our very own tomatoes while standing over the sink to make my juicy mess, like eating watermelon. 

I picked the rhubarb and made two pies. Yummy yummy sweet and tart. My first rhubarb pie since I left Kansas. 

The Norman Art Walk always brings delight, even more so when Jack and I are joined by Leah and Bobby. We began the evening at The Depot, where Jack and I were truly impressed with the artwork of Joey Frisillo from Tulsa.

Landscapes by Joey Frisillo, of Tulsa

She remarked about how much she likes our Oklahoma winters, and the friendly atmosphere.  Secretly, that makes me proud when people who have traveled and lived elsewhere make positive comments about living here.

Jack Chapman, The Bone Blossom
Prophecy

Then we discovered in the basement of Scratch, a restaurant with fine food and fresh drinks, a new room called the Speakeasy without the smoke and gangsters. We relaxed awhile with a drink in the cool quiet area. 

Over several thousand steps later we meandered through art walls of various pieces, people enjoying the cool evening outside, food trucks, dogs both large and tiny, delicious German food at Das Boot, Apple Tree Chocolates, and more art.  

WAIT WAIT...WHAT ABOUT ME?

I went to the doctor place this week . I weigh 24.6 pounds. That's like a lot, but then the man showed me a big dog (standard poodle) that had my color of hair. He said I might be that big someday. Letty made a funny sound.

Usually, all I hear from her is "OFF"  "STOP"  "NO!"  I listen and I try to not scratch and jump, and bite, but I want to be a flyboy when I grow up. I want to leap off couches, jump over tables, fly over gardens, and run faster than rabbits. I can already dig a hole to China, whatever that means. She says that if I don't learn to "come" when they call me then I will have to go to doggie school. My favorite thing to do is go for walks with Jack because he lets me sniff and tinkle when I want to. If I walk with Letty, she says, "Let's go Murphy...come on...keep up."  Sometimes I just sit in the shade on soft green grass because it feels good on my tummy. I know they like me  because they rubs my belly and my ears anytime I want. 

Murphy and the rabbits.

Oh, my name is Murphy Doodle and I am four months old. My mama is an Australian Shepherd and my daddy is a black poodle. I think I am important to Jack and Letty because I make them laugh at me everyday. 

click on this link to laugh more about Murphy Doodle

“Keep some room in your heart for the Unimaginable”

Mary Oliver, poet