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Back to School

We had our first day of school today and it was a great day. I have a good feeling that this year will be the year we finally get the school going in the right direction. I had been dreading the first day, but it turned out OK.

Blogger's Prayer?

I read this in a blog I regulary check out. He said it could (should) be the blogger's prayer. I agree. It's perfect. He said he found it at a blog that credited it to a 17th Century Nun. I guess people really haven't changed much.

Secular Franciscan Life. http://www.sfolife.net/

Lord, Thou knowest better than I know myself that I am growing older and will some day be old. Keep me from the fatal habit of thinking I must say something on every subject & on every occasion. Release me from craving to straighten out every-body’s affairs.

Make me thoughtful but not moody; helpful but not bossy. With my vast store of wisdom, it seems a pity not to use it all, but Thou knowest Lord that I want a few friends at the end. Keep my mind free from the recital of endless details; give me wings to get to the point.

Seal my lips on my aches & pains. They are increasing, and love of rehearsing them is becoming sweeter as the years go by. I dare not ask for grace enough to enjoy the tales of other’s pains, but help me to endure them with patience.

I dare not ask for improved memory, but for a growing humility & a lessening cocksureness when my memory seems to clash with the memories of others. Teach me the glorious lesson that occasionally I may be mistaken.

Keep me reasonably sweet; I do not want to be a Saint-some of them are so hard to live with-but a sour old person is one of the crowning works of the devil. Give me the ability to see good things in unexpected places, & talents in unexpected people. And, Give me, O Lord, the grace to tell them so.
Amen

First Day?

Yesterday felt like the first day of autumn. I know we're technically a month away from the "real" first day, but at the end of the day I found myself thinking, "This is what autumn feels like."

After clearing out his closet of clothes that no longer fit, my husband found that he needed a few items for "back to school clothes" and since our freezer was finally empty from all the food that sheltered in ice chests during the "great broken fridge" episode this summer, we took off for Miles City to do some selective shopping, the last payday having been in May and the next payday a week off. On our way to town we passed great sections of blackened grasslands that recent fires had left. The western part of our state is still burning, but here the fires have died down. I fear it may be the first day of winter before all the state's fires are gone.

We found all the necessities and in addition to what we needed, we found a new pencil box, a new lunch box and a "stapleless stapler," back to school shopping at its best. After filling up with gas, which BTW was $.32 less than in our town, and washing the car, we headed home. Since we'd been in air conditioned places all day, it was a bit of a shock to step out of the car at home and realize how hot it was. But by the time we got the car unpacked and everything put away, it was cooling down. The day ended with a slight thunderstorm accompanied by enough rain to wet everything down, but not enough to register. For the first time all summer, we fell asleep without the sound of the fan in the window and had to pull the blanket up over the sheet. The first sign of autumn's approach. Mind you, the second day of autumn may be in October, but I'm calling yesterday the first.

Where There's Smoke

Believe it or not that small dot over the trees is the sun coming up this morning. The smoke is so thick that you can't even see Cook Mountain between the trees in the topmost picture. Not complaining mind you, I'm not close enough to the fire to post pictures of flames. Many people in Montana aren't as lucky.

Let the Sunshine In

Who would think that such a little window would make such a big difference? It does.

Windows Are Your Eyes to the World

New Window
Old Window

In Loving Memory