But I heard him exclaim, 'ere he drove out of sight,
"Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night!"
Clement Clarke Moore
A flock of geese landed on the surface of the pond, spraying water and splashing until they settled and headed straight for us. At the water’s edge, the geese strode onto the muddy bank, confident and swaggering. They nudged the quacking ducks out of their way and demanded their share of snacks.
My daughter and I tore bread and tossed chunks onto the mud at the birds’ feet. We spent many summer mornings at this pond, feeding the ducks that paddled on the water, and laughing at the bravado of the geese.
My favorite summer memories are of the simple moments I shared with my daughter. We didn’t have much money, so activities had to be inexpensive or free. We found simple entertainments: rollerblading to the park, browsing books at the library. I learned to find joy watching geese land on a pond and appreciating time with someone important to me. The simplest memories make summer special.
A friend suggested I share some little-known facts about Liz. Here are fifteen:
When I was six, I was on a local kids’ TV program. I sat next to a dog puppet in a box.
In high school I won a composition contest. My essay “Investing a Career in Education” explained why good teachers are important and was printed in the town newspaper.
I’m a Batman fan. I grew up watching the old Adam West Batman series, and I named my teddy bear Robin. Now I like the Chris Nolan Dark Knight movies and the Gotham TV series.
I met American Idol winner Taylor Hicks in Las Vegas. He signed my CD.
I have traveled to Germany and Paris, and I ate lunch in the Eiffel Tower; but my favorite trip was to Hannibal, Missouri, to see the writing desk of author Mark Twain.
The day I got my first car, I ran into a tree. It was a small tree, and my car knocked it down.
I don’t like avocados, raw onions, or green peppers on anything.
I have never eaten sushi or gone bungee jumping, and I have no plans to do either.
My daughter took my wisdom teeth to school for show and tell.
My first blog was called lizology101, but it ended when I started howtobeasinglemom.com.
My first published short story appeared in the magazine Tattooing by Women.
For a year, I worked as a proofreader for the state legislature.
During that year, I went to work one morning with gum in my hair and didn’t notice until after I’d had an entire conversation with a coworker.
I collect owls, ceramic pitchers, and children’s books. I buy old clothes in thrift stores and cut them into pieces to make quilts. The quilt I’m making now includes old tee shirts, sweatshirts, and a pair of jeans.
I am grateful for my family and friends who support my dreams. I want to know more about my readers and would love for you to leave a comment with a few fun facts about yourself.
Sometimes life stinks. At the Fair, animal barns flank the entry gates. As we enter the gate, my companion always comments about the smell of the barns, as if complaining will change the situation. Life is often messy and offensive, and complaining doesn’t improve it. If we stay home because we can’t handle the occasional stench, we miss out on the fun things life has to offer.
Look for the sweet stuff. At the Fair, food stands line the walkways. Hungry people stand in line to sample decadent treats like bacon-wrapped corn dogs, deep fried donuts, ice cream, waffles, or cookie dough on a stick. Life presents us with an endless array of blessings that make it delicious. Sometimes we should accept, be grateful, and enjoy the good things life has to offer.
Be patient. A day at the Fair requires standing in line. While we wait for the bus from the parking lot, for our ticket at the gate, for iced tea or lemonade at the food stand; all we can do is accept where we are and be patient for the line to move. Much of life involves waiting for the right time, the right circumstances, the right conditions to propel us forward. When we are forced to wait, we can use that time to learn what we need and practice patience for the change that will arrive soon.
It is OK to rest. Walking all day through Fair crowds and summer sun can make us tired and irritable. Sometimes we need to buy a lemonade, claim a bench in the shade, and watch the crowds pass for a while. In life, we need to know when to step back, take a break, and regroup while we watch the world go on without us. We will know when it’s time to jump back into the flow and move on again.
Wear good shoes. Fairgoers walk for miles across dusty sidewalks, gravel paths, steep and curving trails. Uncomfortable shoes shorten our endurance and make the journey miserable. We see more of life when we are sure of our goals and the footing that carries us. When we are comfortable with ourselves, we can travel farther and faster than when we try to follow someone else’s tracks.
Watch where you step. All those animals at the Fair can leave a mess on streets and sidewalks. Prudent people are mindful of what lies before them on their path. Wise people take care of themselves and watch the road ahead as they travel throughout life. When we are aware of where our walk is taking us, we can avoid those pitfalls we don’t want to encounter.
Life, like the Fair, is a wonderful mix of danger and risk, fun and opportunity. At the Fair, we have to be cautious and know where our limits of endurance lie. In life, we can test those limits and be grateful for the experiences we share and the lessons we learn.
“What is that supposed to be?”
We stopped before a crooked metal staircase that stretched up into nowhere. The plaque on the base read, “Where We Goin’?” and “Please do not climb on sculptures.” For a moment we contemplated the mysterious meaning of the twisted metal. I snapped a picture, then we moved on.
This morning the wind blew gently, stirring the leafy branches of the trees and the waving stalks of grass. The breeze blew mist toward us from the fountain in the center of the lake. Birds called overhead, and a blue heron watched us from where he stood in the water.
This morning I walked with my daughter, around and around the lake on a winding, narrow path. We walked through bright and sunny spots, alternated with shadowed and shady areas. We enjoyed the cool morning air, the warming summer sun, the sounds and scents of trees and water. We contemplated the towering metal sculptures that stood beside the lake’s circling path, and we enjoyed the time we set aside to spend together.
I love these leisurely walks with my family or longer wanderings by myself. A walk allows me to enjoy the beauty of God’s creation, birds and flowers, trees and grass. Walking reminds me to be grateful for the grace of seasonal changes, sky and sun, wind and earth.
A walk clears my head, awakens my thoughts, clears a way for new ideas and inspiration. Walking allows me time to think, consider my purpose, and wonder where my path is taking me.
A walk with someone I care about offers a time for reconnection and conversation, sharing where we’ve been and what we’ve been doing, or just commenting on the world that turns around us.
“Look, there’s a ground squirrel.”
Walking makes me feel alive and grateful for all the world has to offer. A walk encourages me to commune with the God who created that world and gives us the power and freedom of movement to enjoy it.
This morning, I encourage you to take a walk with someone you love. Find a way to step outside and enjoy the brilliance God has given us to share.