A gorgeous Sunday morning in Greenville. Sophie is sprawled out on her back in a sunbeam. It was so warm yesterday I had the balcony door open all day and she was back and forth from her little stool that she stands on so she can put her front paws and head up between the railings and watch people go by. She is so cute when she does that! She was out there at 8:00 last night when I closed it up. She is going to love the new house in Lexington. It appears we have come to an agreement with the builder and will be closing on the house on Friday. He isn't refinishing the hardwood floors or putting in the gas line for the fireplace but Steve said we'd take care of that. He is taking care of a pretty long list of other more important items. So I need to get the stuff I want to take with me to Lexington on Thursday in the car so they don't get packed this week. I am already groaning just thinking about the trips up and down the stairs. I have begun to really dislike stairs - or at least my hip has!

Seems appropriate on a Sunday morning to discuss Patrice Vecchione's poetry collection Faith & Doubt, which received a superb review in VOYA. A "gotta have" in any YA collection. I picked it up because of the title and the colorful dust jacket. The first thing on the front fly leaf is a wonderful quote from Martin Luther King , Jr. :
"Faith is taking the first step even when you don't see the whole staircase."

The poetry ranges from early Greeks to contemporary poets, with a few surprises such as a poem by Elizabeth I. The act of reading these poems takes little time in itself, but the pondering and thought process they provoke is lengthy. I have had this collection sitting on my desk and I find myself picking it up and re-reading the poems, sometimes out loud so I can hear the words. Poetry is always better aloud - in my opinion.

I keep going back to a poem by Yehundi Amichai called "The Place Where We are Right".
"From the place where we are right
flowers will never grow
in the spring.
The place where we are right
is hard and trampled
like a yard.
But doubts and loves
dig up the world
like a mole, a plow.
And a whisper will be heard in the place where the ruined house once stood. "

This poem resonates with me as I have a tendency to worry about the things I cannot control - perhaps that is a need to be "right". So, I am going to try harder to be a "mole"!

And that is where I shall leave this post for today, with my mole like nose loosening up the dirt so I can relish doubts and, more so, my thoughts of the people in this world, including heaven, whom I love. Really miss my mom in the Spring as I can see her tending to her baby tomato and cucumber plants in the hotbed my dad made for her. I can close my eyes and taste the twang of biting into a hot tiny tomato from her garden in the heat of the summer, which didn't last long in Upper Michigan.