Wistful Thoughts on a Grey Day

February and the Gold Trees are blooming on a grey day

Good Day, God!

A grey day . . . but my first day out this month. And the Gold Trees are blooming. That’s surely one of the  yearly events that I most look forward to.

I did venture out to see my mom, God. Not as long a visit as usual. But, we played a game of Scrabble and I clipped her toe nails and took her rent check down to the office. Oh! — and I brought her two bags of pretzels.

I knew I had been sick, God, when I realized just today that I had library books four days overdue AND I hadn’t watered my plants since Tuesday. I hadn’t even remembered them enough to ask Kit to water them. Sigh. Forgetting my plants!

Out of this cold, my compassion for the chronically ill is way up. Still, I really don’t know how hard chronic illness must be. Knowing is surely a body thing. Not a head thing.

For some odd reason that brings to mind someone’s idea that participants at peace conferences should be given babies to hold. Giving folks a good dose of oxytocin I suppose. I seem to remember that President Carter had the protagonists at Camp David bring photos of their grandchildren.

Truly, God, I want a world safe for our grandchildren. I am more or less convinced that the only way to have that kind of world is to have the grandmothers in charge. Wouldn’t that be lovely, God? Of course, we grandmothers don’t want to be in charge. But, I am sure no one who WANTS power should ever be given it.

Yes, God, a Council of Grandmothers. That’s what I’d like to see!

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Story teller,

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Posted in Common sense and reasonableness, health, Peace

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