PennyDaisy

Swinging is the best invention ever. 

  Especially if it is under a
tree that has just got it’s leaves. 

       Ash trees may have their
problems, but the wind doesn’t

   move other trees quite the same
way. 

It’s fun to close your eyes and see the shadows from

   the sun
shining through the new leaves. 

      It’s like a strobe light, but
more dappled, warmer. 

  And then you open your eyes and find that your body has

    automatically swung you higher and higher.

And you feel like a kid again.

   You know in my three weeks in France and
England,

      I never once saw a swing. 

 They may have style and
history over there, but they know nothing

   about soaring. 

     Swinging
is like being in love with God.





Today was perfect.  Relaxing…

   well, sort of. 

     I got up at
six to take my little sister Sophie to Walmart

         to help her spend her
money on more toy horses–

             she collects them. 

(Six AM because I
hate Walmart even more than usual

     when there are other people
there.  
         And yes, I like people, Abby!  In
moderation…) 

  We got to see the sun come up driving down Hwy.
96, and on the

      way home we stopped at the Kolache Shop for
breakfast. 

Sophie said the best part about going herself is that she
could

    get chocolate milk, which people always forgot to get her. 


 We took our treat to a little park down the road

      in the historic
section of town and sat on a freezing-cold,

        stone picnic bench. 


Okay, so 49 degrees is a little cool when you’re dressed for 65. 


  My backside was sooo cold when we stood up. 

 I need to do that
with more of my younger siblings. 

   It was so fun to just take it
easy and do whatever we wanted. 

      Oh, and she got a very cute–and
fat–stuffed pig,

            which I like to call Pacha.



This afternoon Stacy and I worked outside–

    together, but not on
purpose. 

       She trimmed her rose bush and I

          trimmed the crepe
myrtles for Mom,

       which seems to be my job every spring, but I forgot
this year,

   so one of them had already started to get leaves. 

Did
you know that they only bloom on new growth? 

     So if you don’t want
a blooming tree (just a blooming bush),
          you have to trim them every year or so. 

Our
neighbor has yet to learn that, so I suppose

      we’ll have crepe myrtle
branches coming through

         between the fence boards and pink flowers


     dropping in our backyard again this year. 

Someday it will be a
veritable monster and take over their oak tree,

      which they also fail to
prune, and, I fear,

          will one day uproot their upstairs deck. 

   Or
grow through it. 

I don’t think they know very much about plants.





Rambling is so delightful on a day like
this. 

  I think having Abby here this morning made me act like
this. 

     Who knew that after all that rain and cold,

        we could have
so many days of blue sky, sunshine,

          green leaves, and–best of
all–breezes. 

    I love breezes. 

The wind is fun–if it’s a
stormy wind, or a beach wind. 

   But wind by itself…? 


      Reminiscent of dust storms in Lubbock. 

   But breezes…those are the
best kind of wind. 

And breezes make for good swinging hours,
too. 



 Do you know how easy it is to spend an hour swinging under a tree? 
 
                   
                 
        It’s like being close to God….