So teach us (me) to number our (my) days, That we (I) may gain a heart of wisdon. Ps. 90:12.
This having always been a fervent prayer of mine through every stage of life. Time is an enigma that has pierced my thought life always. It is a “burn in my belly” desire, as a friend explained it once to me. To be keenly aware of every day given to me. To savor and love and thank God for everyday.
I have determined to savor each and every day. For life truly is but a vapor…
Once, only once, have I been able to watch a chrysalis transform into a butterfly. Such a fascinating mystery to watch. We put it in a jar. One day we found a Monarch butterfly fluttering around the jar anxious to get out! It happily flew away.
One of our gardens is a designated pollinator garden. That means I allow the milk weed and other insect loving natural plants to grow as food for the Monarchs butterflies and other native insects. It is growing larger every year. I have even mailed milk weed seeds to folks interested in having beneficial pollinating plants for nature in their gardens.
In addition, I have great fun taking photographs of butterflies. Though often it is a real challenge!
What a fun word. Or rather what fun, dear memories it conjures up for me.
My father-in-law was a real fix-it man. Born in 1912, he was a child of the Great Depression. He sure knew how to fix things, and make needed/wanted household items from scraps in his shop. He kept everything knowing he made need it for a project someday.
I loved his shop and would spend time with him in it watching, listening and chatting with him. It was neat & tidy—a place for everything and everything in its place.
He went home to be with The Lord many years ago at the grand old age of 98.
Memories of him linger in our hearts and homes as we still enjoy the many things he made for the necessity of our homes so long ago. They are dear to our hearts.