Seeds from a Birch Tree

This morning's coffee was accompanied by a delicious book that recently arrived in the mail - "Seeds from a Birch Tree" by Clark Strand.

One of my bad habits is reading about writing instead of writing. Another bad habit is reading about spirituality instead of saying my prayers, and so Clark’s book is the perfect indulgence.  The subtitle is "Writing Haiku and the Spiritual Journey".

I haven't written any haiku yet, so I'll give you one of Strand's: 

sparrows flutter down

into bushes full of light

without any leaves.

The Cathedral Garden

My grandfather (Russell Wagner) would have loved the gardens at Washington Cathedral.   The intoxicating smell of hot boxwood time-warps me back to his terraced flower beds in Marietta, Ohio.  Russ' garden had rose beds, cutting beds, and a vegetable garden down by the garage.  A thick border of variegated red petunias ran along the house.  The cinder block wall was topped with a mosaic of portulaca.  Forty-five years ago my summer afternoons passed by rolling in the grass, singing, and searching for fairies in the lily bells.  At night there were lightening bugs to catch. 

I don't have flowers at my house.  Instead I claim as my own the garden at Washington Cathedral.  This is my lunchtime bench.  This is the spot where I read picture books to a long-ago toddler.  I know the twisting paths, the smells, the bells.  When out-of-town visitors come, I bring them here for a rose-scented visit.  If you come on a Tuesday night you can listen to change ringing practice and pretend you're in Oxford, Lincoln, or Washington.

 I have a fantasy of my grandfather working in the cathedral garden - accomplishing more in a morning then others in a day - oblivious to cathedral politics and concerns.  When budget/staff cuts come he would take on three men's work without complaint or trouble, all the while glorying in the magnificence of the surroundings.  Bringing home snapshots of his work to keep in albums arranged by year.

In truth, he enjoyed his work as a telephone lineman as much as the gardens he kept.  He proudly shared photos of lines restored after The Great Hurricane of 1938, along with his log of that year's overtime hours.  When he retired from Ohio Bell, after 50 some years of service, he collected and sold antique telephones and telephone insulators, maintaining a basement stock with hundreds of colors and styles. 

On my walk home from the cathedral today, on the corner of 38th and Quebec, I look up and see insulators on top of poles.  I thought they had been outdated, but insulators are just around the corner from my house!  Russ is following me.

One of Russ' white insulators sits on my window, along with a Buddha, a birdhouse and a boat.  I keep these dear ones near while I write. 

 Come visit another Thursday and hear the cheetah's story.

Unique Thrift

Andrea calls it a ritual. We do it on certain days (Monday or Thursday) and a certain time (the stroke of 9:30 am). We wear special clothes ("try-on" clothes).

We’re off to the land of plenty in Silver Spring, Maryland - Unique Thrift and Value Village all in one magnificent building!
Andrea goes as therapy. She falls into a kind of meditative state - "the zone". It has something to do with "having it all". Today her zone focuses on curtains. If she could only find the perfect curtains then she would have the perfect home and the perfect life.

I’m more practical. It started with a need to replace my ripped pants. At that time my thrift store mentor was Enid. She modeled "thrift extravagance" by purchasing a crystal candy dish to keep lipsticks in and a white leather jacket. Eventually I too became extravagant. I indulge in color - pink, green, even orange! I could stock up on cute skirts! Have a summer bathrobe AND a winter bathrobe!

The good news is that it’s no harm to the earth, poorly paid laborers or my bank account. And I get to visit with Andrea.

Here’s what I bought:

• funky patchwork jacket to replace grey shroud on the back of my office chair
• moo- moo for Hawaii trip (not yet scheduled)
• pink cotton nightgown from Macy’s with tags still on
• 2 camisoles: 1 basic white and 1 glorious rich plum
• Andrea-type skirt - black and maroon
• green and white capri pants (I will look very Bethesda in these)
• tres elegant black silk blouse for concert attire
• flamenco dress - black with swirls of spots and lots of flounce

This wasn’t cheap. It set me back $45.

Since this is the first "Thursday Chronicles" posting I should mention, the blog is not going to be about thrift stores, but like thrift store finds, "Thursday Chronicles" might be:

• a bunch of junk
• a treasure hunt
• a little imperfect
• absolutely perfect

Thanks for reading!