It goes like this: Whine, whine, whimper, whimper. It’s about six in the morning and the dogs want in. My husband gets up, opens the bedroom door and climbs back in bed with two dogs who want to be under the covers and cuddled up close. The little one can’t quite get herself off the ground anymore so she needs a lift. About an hour later, I get up and one of the dogs get up with me; Rita. She wants to go outside and she will not take her penetrating eyes off either one of us until she is let outside. About fifteen minutes later she is at the door barking to be let in. She won’t stop barking until we let her in. In the meantime, Maggie, the little one, is still under the covers in our bed. We can’t see her because she is small and nestled down at the bottom of the bed. Rita is back in the house now, feet cleaned off and dried and she heads for the kitchen. She comes to me with those penetrating eyes that say “how could you possibly let my water bowl go dry? Where is my breakfast?” I…
It’s really not about the Easter Bunny or a basket full of chocolates. It’s not about ham. Originally, Eastre (as it was called) was a pagan celebration of spring and new beginnings. Everything comes to life in the Spring. What’s not to love and celebrate about it? Yet, there isn’t a flower, a baby chick, new born bunnies or even an eaglet that is more worthy of celebrating than the new life of Jesus Christ. His resurrection gave us eternal life. Now, that’s something worth celebrating! Eastre was changed to Easter. It became a time to prepare new converts for baptism through intensive classes and instruction. It was a time for long-standing Christians to review their lives and renew their commitment to Jesus Christ. And, it was a time for backsliders to be restored to the faith. In every case, it is a time for serious, disciplined self-examination, a time spent in intensive prayer and repentance before the cross of Calvary. Have a Wonderful Easter! May we all celebrate our everlasting lives. Later, Mary Ann
I can’t imagine a world without music. Nothing compares to the soothing serenade of a well played violin or rag-time tunes as they dance off the keys of an old piano. Nothing gets under my skin and into my blood like the sweet crooning of a saxophone or the rich vocals of folks like Roy Orbison or Christina Agulara. Yet, I spent yesterday in my yard, pulling weeds by the bucket load, where I enjoyed equally beautiful music of a much different kind. I listened as the gentle waves lapped playfully onto the shore with a delicate rhythmic sound that was truly hypnotic. The bay was so quiet that the water sounds echoed off the shore and mixed with the occasional cry of an eagle. I heard splashes and looked to see both seals and sea birds diving for food. Mix the lapping with the splashing with the screeching, and it was natures orchestra at it’s best. Or so one would think.
The fountain was located in the center of the small mountain village. It was encircled with shops and restaurants lining the outside parameter. Every thing faced the center of the town square where the fountain spouted in the warm afternoon sun. It was nearing evening and some of the cafe’s were busy serving red wine, huge kalamata olives and fresh aromatic breads. A cluster of old men crowded a bench that wrapped around the fountain, leaning around to talk to each other and smoke their cigarettes. They glanced our way occasionally, blowing smoke as their minds wandered – most likely down a trail of memories. Earlier times when they were young and spry, when their minds had yet to forget a friends name or the day of the week or how they once had little ones splashing in the fountain water as their grandchildren did now.