Author: Maria Johnson
so what’s going on today?
I’m hanging out at CatholicMom with a post about my parish’s annual medical mission to Haiti. They are there right now so first, send up a prayer for the success of the mission, and then follow this link to read my post.
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today is “give a compliment day”
No. Not really. I just totally made that up.
But do it anyway.
I had a little fun on Facebook yesterday which turned into a weird and awkward (for me, anyway) incident of fishing for compliments, which wasn’t my intent, but oh well, who can control what happens on those status updates. You know what I’m talking about — the deep and prosaic stuff gets crickets — the reckless inane crap get a bazillion likes and comments. And food. And babies. And puppies.
Anyway.
Yesterday, in two totally unrelated incidents, I was told I was awesome by two totally different people. By totally, I mean, the only thing they have in common is their humanity. Which is a lot, let me tell you, but that’s not the point. Or maybe it is.
It got me thinking about Pope Francis and his message to stop gossiping. Have you been following that? I’m loving it — he’s asking us to love our neighbor, and tearing them down isn’t very loving, now, is it?
Guilty as charged. Boy, I’m feeling his kindly eyes on me telling me to watch my tongue.
So back to awesome yesterday. I think the reason I was so tickled by it is because I know the persons well enough to be secure in their sincerity. It meant something to me.
What would happen if instead of tearing people down (and ourselves, by the way) with a sharp tongue and ugly gossip, we spread around a compliment or two? Make sure it’s authentic. Make sure the person on the receiving end knows you mean it.
You I might create a better habit.
a modern still life
The view from my office this morning shows a bowl of pears, a candle, and a flower (the traditional elements), along with my almost finished latte and journal, and then … Random crap on my table… Some seeds, a bag of apples, lightbulbs, a bottle of drain cleaner. And caulk.
Because who couldn’t use a little caulk.
I feel like Rembrandt.
No. Not really. I don’t even feel like Andy Warhol.
Another trainwreck
We had an especially fun time with this episode!
a St. Valentine’s Day ramble
I do not love you more today
than the other 364 days in the year,
but I do not love you any less, either,
and would not miss the chance to tell you,
with hearts and flowers and silly cards
in a playful way, that I do, in fact,
love you more than x’s and o’s
and chocolate hearts and red roses,
or in our case,
yellow ones from deep in the heart of Texas.
I would not miss the chance to laugh at candy messages.
Your love is not rationed,
and who rations love, anyway?
It just grows and grows,
not in a neat way,
like you’d see in hallmark cards,
but in messy diapers, and overtime,
in disappointments and failures,
in missed opportunities and risks not taken,
And blossoms in warm snuggles and happy reunions,
in proud moments and accomplishments,
in moments seized and showers of blessings.
It’s not a day, but a lifetime.
Pretty, fluffy snow. And some friends.
Ice Storm 2014
hunkering down for snowpocalypse 2.0 ATL edition
Look. This is a serious weather threat for our area, in spite of all the mockery given the disaster that was Atlanta a couple of weeks ago. An ice storm is not good news, ever. I can predict, without a meteorology degree, that we’re going to lose power, and that it will be an unfortunate thing for many people.
In our case, we’ve got a fireplace, a gas stove, plenty of food. And we’re inside, so no matter how cold it gets, we’ll have blankets and whatever we need to be fine. I know this may not be the case for many families. I am fearful for the homeless.
But look at this tweet, please. How can we possibly take storms seriously with this kind of crazy hyperbole? Makes me want to NEVER take this guy seriously ever again.
I’m consoling myself with some bourbon. Over ice. It’s going to be a long week.
Sewing? Writing? You should be doing the dishes!
Totally enjoyed laughing at the absurdity of this Singer Sewing Machine advice posted above. And then I started thinking about that. What if I substituted “writing” for sewing? Would it make a difference in my writing output? I have three writing projects, two with deadlines. I’m ready to have fun writing in a worry-free, clean environment.
I was ready. I got up, made a pot of coffee, dashed through the house organizing, dusting, and overall making it look presentable! Yes! I didn’t do any heavy duty cleaning, just decluttering and putting things away. I wanted to leave myself plenty of time to write, doncha know!
Satisfied with having a home ready to accept visitors or a husband coming home early, I jumped in the shower and made myself pretty! I powdered my nose! I wore my pearls!
I wore a smile! Amazing what that can do. Just as I was settling down to write, guess what? My husband came home early. He was delighted to see me smiling, and was happy to come home to a welcoming, warm home.
I didn’t get to do any writing. He was too busy wanting to spend time with me, this unusual creature with a smile who smelled good and was wearing real clothes instead of sweats.
Oh.
another cup of coffee 
