Tomato Cage Love

Dig and turn
Tender plantings
Held up in wire
Wind and hail
Pinching off broken growth

Growing still
Support invaded
Flowers promising
Fruit peeking out
Water, weed, and grow

Cage hidden
Verdant jungle
Sunshine, water, weeding
Waiting and forgetting
Hints of red

Inspect and straighten
Marvel, wonder, water, weed
Tomato fruit ripening
Green gives way: yellow, pink, red
Succulent, satisfying fruits of summer

"Let the Children Come !" 

Loryn has a cavity. A fairly good sized one. I missed it. The school nurse found it. I felt guilty. This morning we went to the dentist and as we drove along Loryn recounted this story with great carefulness, great detail, and great urgency:

" Mom, Ya know, when I was at my Sunday school at Kel's church I heard a story. " 

"Ah hah..."

"Well, there were these men and a bunch of kids gathered around and they said to the childrens, "Let's give Jesus a break."

"Ah hah ..." Wondering, "Where is this headed ?"

"And Jesus said, " Let the children come."

Silence followed. The story was complete. I waited for more and was pleased with her clarity of re-telling this story. Frankly, I was surprised. All at once, I was comforted and disturbed by the story as I often am. Comforted because Jesus has his priorities right and disturbed because I often don't. 

I asked Loryn how she felt about the story when she heard it. With precision and efficiency, she said, " I felt good."  The story telling was complete and we turned our attention to finding our way to the dentist office. 

And then with McCullough-ian quickness, she said, " Mom, Ya know, there were these ladies gathered around Mary and they said, ' Mary needs a break...' " she paused and giggled and that was that. I thought I was entering into a long string of , " there were these people gathered and ... " but it stopped at the giggle.

I do wonder what the end of that story was going to be... 

I finished it this way thinking that the story was that Mary and Martha were gathered around Jesus and his friends gathered, too. Martha was busy and Mary was busy. Jesus said, "Come sit with me awhile",  and Mary stopped what she was doing and sat at his feet and listened. A short time passed and Jesus said to Martha, "Please, come sit down with me." "You need a break." And Martha stopped what she was doing for just a little while and sat down with Jesus and his friends.

It is easy for me to be caught up in the day to day requirements of laundry and cooking and paying bills and ...

it is good to hear the invitation to, "Come!"  I am glad that my children help me to listen.

"What's in a name? That which we call a rose
By any other name would smell as sweet."

Romeo and Juliet (II, ii, 1-2)

My birth name is Jill Marie Reeb. First name: short, not terribly common when I was growing up,but very familiar. It cannot be abbreviated and all attempts to lengthen it Jilly, Jill Pill, Jill Bean, Jilly Bean, etc. cannot be used regularly outside my own home and family, at least not for very long. Marie means bitter. Reeb is beer spelled backwards.

So I have endured, Jill,  for now these forty plus years. I have known for a long time that my mom had wished, almost immediately, that she had named me Jillian. And I was quite relieved when I took my married name. Marie means bitter.

And then not so long ago, I found myself living in Scotland. There the name Gillian abounds. I was so pleased and ever so slightly jealous. I continued on as Jill or more commonly as "Maaaah.... m" ! (Mom). I returned to work and struggled with all the challenges of living abroad, being past the baby years, and approaching my middle forties. I realized I had very few interests of my own. I realized that I like working. I realized that this name thing was in my craw. Marie means bitter.

Fairly recently, I found myself preparing to leave Scotland. A most beautiful, magical, and mystical place that has captured me most completely. On that fair island, I grew up a little more and a little less. I discovered the beauty of the earth and a deep appreciation for the farmer and the farm in its cyclic rhythms. I took to walking: whenever, wherever, with whomever. I "rode my bike to work" (I never think of myself as cycling) regularly last spring. I reviewed my story and looked more closely at the bitter parts. I learned to breathe deeply the natural beauty all around. I learned that simple cooking is art and that going slower is better. I danced at a ceilidh and wasn't worried about what anyone was thinking. I drank more: wine, whiskey, and gin, but not too much ! I no longer resist my need to make and find meaning in nearly everything.

It seemed fitting that in all this a new name might fit the bill: Kelly became Kel, Duane became Will, Tony became George. Maybe it was my turn.

So emerges Juniper Gillian Marie McCullough.  Gillian is my nod to Scotland. Juniper is a nod to oh so many things, but gin comes to mind. And Marie means bitter and is related to the word myrrh and the name Mary and is my oldest daughter's middle name, too. And McCullough is my family name.

Just in case you were wondering...

Mixed Motivations

Yesterday I was trying to update my iGoogle home page, but couldn't follow my sister's blog on my new email. After several attempts and a lot of wasted time, I noticed that I hadn't blogged in over a year. I started to think, " I would like to write more.", but then I realized I've moved and I am no longer in Scotland. Hmm, I guess I could add to the old blog, but that doesn't seem right. So I created a new blog under my new email and finally was able to follow my sister's blog on my iGoogle home page.

Does this remind anyone of  ?

So yesterday, I was really just holding the place until I can get to writing more...  stay tuned in!

Failed, forgotten, disappointed.
Rooted, resting, rejoicing.
Grounded.