Good tidings

If you're interested, you'll need to click on the photo to view it full size so that you can really see Jupiter, which barely shows in the photo at this size (it is to the right of the moon). The crescent moon, Venus, and Jupiter formed a miraculous triangle last night at just about 5 p.m. (EST). I was mesmerized. Dean came out with me to see it, and luckily Ken got home just in time to share it, too. I was tempted to ring our neighbors' doorbells and get them all out on the street to witness this, but shyness and the beauty of the silent moment held me back. I believe that by tonight, the triangle will be broken but that the two planets will still be visible (worldwide) so get out there if you can. Not only do I have no difficulty understanding why ancient peoples believed that the sky gave sacred messages to us on Earth, but I believe it still.

One!

Have you been watching Venus and Jupiter in the night sky? The show will become even more spectacular tonight, when the moon moves into the picture. Last night was stormy, but we had a glorious view of the two planets Saturday night, and it is supposed to clear up here by tonight -- we're hoping for another chance to see everything. I thought this might just be visible in the northern hemisphere, but apparently everyone can see it as some point in the night. Go look!


Biscuit celebrated his first birthday on Saturday with lots of jumping; what's amazing to me is that he can jump that high from a standing-still position (and he can get higher than what he's demonstrating for you here). We did not throw him a party, but we did give him some new toys and a few extra treats. He seemed pretty pleased:

Any ideas on how to slow down time? How can this new month proceed at a dignified pace? I tried to explain to Ken last night -- at this point, it is not about figuring out how to do it all between now and Christmas; it is about figuring out what to drop off the list and what to keep so that we get done what we absolutely need to get done on time. It snowed a little yesterday -- a message from the skies to get moving.

Counting the days

Me and my dad, circa 1965.

There used to be a series of television commercials for lemonade (Country Time?) that started up right around now (after Memorial Day, sort of the non-official, official start of summer for a lot of us in the US) and announced how many summer days you had ahead of you to take advantage of the pleasures of summer. They’d update the ad over the course of the summer, like a countdown. I both loved and hated them – loved the glorious reminder/celebration of the small joys, and hated the sense that time was already so limited and slipping away.

Summer is such an interesting challenge – the point is to relax and take it easy and let things happen, but the reality is that if you don’t plan and put the effort into doing certain things then the moment passes and you find yourself in September without having gotten enough sand in your shoes. There seems to be a lot being written in blogland these days about small moments, small pleasures, and I honestly believe it’s a seasonal thing. Even on the other side of the Earth where they are now stepping firmly into winter, I think it still applies – the shoulder seasons of spring/fall are coming to an end and the full seasons (as I think of them) of summer and winter are getting underway. A natural time to pause and take pleasure in the thoughts of how you’ll enjoy the season.

28 new planets. Have you heard this yet? I was thinking this morning that, had a discovery like that been announced – 20 years ago? 50 years ago surely – it would be THE topic of conversation. Everything would just sort of stop as people paused to take this in, to ponder it, to question it, to celebrate it. It would consume the news, the dinner tables, the school rooms. But now the news seems to be falling on a lot of ears that somehow aren’t all that impressed. I find it mind-boggling that 28 new planets have been discovered, and equally mind-boggling that it seems to be a piece of information just floating past on the breeze.