“Grant us wisdom, grant us courage, for the facing of the hour”*

by chuckofish

Spring seemed on the verge of arriving this weekend with temps in the 70s and new life bursting forth all over.

Screen Shot 2017-02-12 at 2.55.05 PM.pngBut this happens every year and we know not to be fooled–the cold weather will return.

The OM and I went to see the wee babes this weekend according to our new routine.


The little gal thinks, “My, Pappy, what big glasses you have!”


As you can see, they are making great strides and are mastering the “suck, swallow, breath” drill. Even the little guy, who is still only 4 lbs, 8 oz., is beginning to have that chubby baby look at last. They are doing fine.

I went to church and there were very few people there. (I wondered whether people thought going to Joe’s funeral on Thursday let them off the hook.) After church, I had lunch with my pals and we marveled at how busy we are. I did find time over the weekend to finish The Transit of Venus. You know, it takes longer to read a book to which you have to pay such close attention. I felt while reading it that I was just barely smart enough to appreciate it.

You might have said, What beauty. Instead Caro introduced herself. Monosyllables were planted like bollards, closing every avenue. The boy had not forgotten what to say: he had chosen a part with no lines. He was cool, and except for the wrists, unruffled. One talked as if to a child. “What’s your name, where do you go to school?” His name was Felix, and he was to go somewhere–no doubt Oxford, or doubtless Cambridge–in the autumn. When someone else came up he disappeared instantly, having somehow stuck it out till then.

Shirley Hazzard, wow.

Now it is Monday again. Take it slow. Savor the moment. Live in the now.

*Hymn #594, Harry Emerson Fosdick