gratitude | Playing for Time

Housekeeping…

14 Jul 2026 1 Comment

***

I opened my eyes this morning and found myself, in the immortal words of Ulla Inka Hansen Benson Yansen Tallen Hallen Swadon Swanson, in the mood to “tidy-oop” a little. And if you’ve somehow missed The Producers in your lifetime, watch it posthaste, you’ll thank me for the reference.

Speaking of tidying accumulated detritus, what I’ve observed about computer files over time is that they are faithful to their calling which is to fill themselves to capacity with things no one will ever need again. Ever. But MIGHT just… so therein lies the dilemma. I can’t simply let them go, despite an experienced knowledge of how this works, so I’m tossing this batch into your court, do with it as you may. I’ll yield to the inner compunction to share it, then immediately throw it in the bin. Heartlessly, I assure you.

And a couple from the realists…

Sadness and anger are cousins and can exist simultaneously with all the other human emotions. There are no Get Out of (Existential) Jail Free cards.

There’s so much sadness and anger intermingled in this one it’s hard to process. Incredibly, this is what a massive part of The People’s House looks like now, before it gets even worse. And no one bothered to get clearance for ANY of it.

***

My heart hurts for everybody younger than 60 (as well as everyone older than 60), because every generation since the Boomers (mine) has believed deep down that there’s no rosy future for anyone of any age anymore. That’s a bleak outlook to base a lifetime on, and not fair… but I’ve never heard anyone say life’s designed to be fair. I do especially feel for the kids coming out of high school this year, the college grads, the people who need to be ready to take over from us, the certified elderly, and steer the country away from the cliffs. Again. Some more. The youthful ones who traditionally lace up their boots and implement plans formulated by old men in windowless rooms who are basically immune to the downsides. And those old men and women have to get a clue and retire because for the most part they’ve lost the plot and aren’t keeping up with what time inevitably delivers. Life is entirely about change. That’s an immutable fact and it’s pointless to laugh in the face of reality.

Meanwhile, those high school and college “kids,” what ABOUT them? Who and what are they supposed to believe and internalize? What kind of society is being built via all these mixed messages? What sort of adults are under construction as we speak? And who shoulders responsibility if it all turns to quicksand under our feet?

***

Which brings us full circle to an important truth…

It’s a beautiful day.

Find someone to be nice to.

Smile a little or a lot.

Keep your powder dry

and work with what ya’ got.

[I may have just written a pome.]

***

Image by Judy Smith

Hmm, what IS this?

09 Jul 2026 Leave a comment

***

It’s a balmy 79° out this morning, the sun’s shining, the trees are overwhelmingly green, the tiny wrens and sparrows are loving the feeders, and the wind isn’t blowing. The house is clean, the laundry’s caught up for a bit, the plants have been watered and encouraged, and my wonderment as I sit here is… what is this feeling? It feels suspiciously like contentment, with a welcome absence of dread and concern. Given the opportunity, I could get used to this, but for now, even an hour or two of “it’s not my problem, man” is sweetly healing. Constant uncertainty and threat are damaging to the psyche, so there’s no reluctance on my part to say “I don’t care. I’ll care later, after I consort with my better angels for a while. Today I’m in my happy place. Do not screw it up.” Also, I encourage everybody to consider whether you, too, might need to make room for a day of solitude.

Really weary of my own schtick lately, so Hello Sunshine!

Dawson, a thoughtful northern neighbor, encouraged me yesterday with this…

So our assignment, should we choose to accept it …

***

Image by Judy Smith

Jay the Hawk and other friends…

29 Jun 2026 4 Comments

***

It was a wet spring and now summer’s here, with more rain in the long-range forecast. That’s a GOOD thing, as Eastern Kansas temps and humidity can turn on a dime and cook us right out of our flip-flops. With all the water, the trees and other vegetation are so green and dense we’re genuinely living in a forest and I have to wonder how many birds and other critters dwell here with us. It would be a big number. No dove couples have nested on our balcony yet this season, so when Kim mentioned putting out bird-food and water I was an instant fan. We’ve resisted in the past, thinking the mess might be too much but it’s turning out not to be an actual problem, and the entertainment is well worth a little extra sweeping up. It took less than 24 hours for word to get out that “There’s FOOD up there, guys! They even have black-oil sunflower seeds, c’mon!”

So now every day sees a fresh gathering of birds, from tiny to bigger/fatter/rounder/quieter. That would be the mourning doves, who’ve gravitated to us several spring seasons in a row, and who make for the best possible feathered renters. We still hope they’ll decide to move in and raise a clutch or two here this summer.

The small bird varieties, like house wrens, finches, sparrows, black & white warblers and others, are highly skittish and hard to photograph, although I have a plan: the next not-windy morning or evening we get, I’ll open the door wide and wait to capture a few shots when they come in for their regular feeding times in the morning and late afternoon. Otherwise, they sense every movement behind the glass and they’re gone in an instant. Until I can pull that off, here are a few stock photos for reference.

At least twice now, we’ve had a brief visit from this guy, who’s delicate-looking and stunningly crimson.

***

And then there’s THIS new friend who sits quietly on the balcony rail whenever he feels like it, and since he hasn’t harassed any of the littles or the sweet doves we’re happy to have him hang out with us. For those who don’t know, we live in the town that’s home to the KU Jayhawks, so his name is… yeah, Jay the Hawk. Rock Chalk!

Our fascination with the world of birds may indicate that we’re growing old and soft. Not a bad thing at all, but it feels more like THIS:

” …where the earth is respected, and where life is valued above all else.”

Image by Judy Smith

This is for the birds…

04 Jun 2026 3 Comments

***

For the first time in several summers we don’t have a pair of nesting doves keeping us company on the balcony, so Kim decided to feed the East Lawrence forest instead. The treats were out for less than a day before word got around the neighborhood, “Hey, guys, they have black sunflower seeds up there!” so it’s working out swimmingly. Kim adds seed mix to the saucer repeatedly throughout the day, and he’s been patiently sweeping the deck every evening. Yesterday he let the saucer run empty and then we watched as the regulars came in and picked the floor almost clean as well, so yeah, even better. They make the same mess whether the saucer is on the table or the floor, so letting them police themselves in the name of sustenance seems only right.

A question for whatever hive mind may exist: Is it a law of the universe that once a person passes the 75-year line in the sand, they are hormonally required to develop a sudden awareness of and connection with the bird world? There are two of us here, one as absorbed and engrossed as the other, so it isn’t just a little old lady thing. I have theories but I’d rather see some feedback from anyone reading. Why this particular interest during this particular decade? What draws us to these small creatures? What is this sweet love we feel for them and their utterly helpless offspring?

We get an amazing number of visitors in a day’s time, comin’ in hungry. Then they likely all fly home to fill the craws of waiting babies, back and forth endlessly until they kick the progeny out to fend for themselves. We see doves, house wrens, sparrows, and other tiny feathered guys we haven’t ID’d from images yet. So far, the wrens and other littles are too skittish for pictures – they dart away the instant they detect motion – but Kim’s gotten other good shots.

A mourning dove getting right to the business at hand.

None of them have any table manners to speak of but at least there have been no gang fights.

There’s water as well, and they drink a lot of it some days.

And then there’s THIS guy, whom we’d never seen up close and personal before. He’s likely a Swainson’s hawk, and he’s several times bigger than any of our regulars. By which I mean he’s 18 to 20″ long and has a 46 to 54″ wingspan when fully grown. Google paints him as somewhat benevolent concerning baby birds, but I’d trust that assessment only so far. Fun to see him this close, though.

There’s a lot to like.

Image by Judy Smith

It’s February, bring on the love…

12 Feb 2026 2 Comments

***

Everybody who’s still awake and keeping track of such things knows we did finally make it through all 365 days of January, only to find that February had decided to follow that same template. Thus we find ourselves not even halfway through the month when New Year’s Eve was eons ago, how does that work?

Journey will forever exhort us “(To NOT) Stop Believin'” but I confess that my inner Pollyanna finally sat down last week and thought briefly about hanging up the fight, letting it all crumble around me, and quitting all the stupid caring so much. Journey, as they say, would be so disappointed in me.

It’s been a slog any way we want to look at it, while at the same time parts of society are coming unraveled at warp speed. Every day I think about writing something in this space, and every day I wander off again without having typed a single word because where, really, does one even start? Some things are both too ridiculous and too true for words. So just to keep the lines open between you and me, and to preserve a thread of history as it happens, I’m resorting to sign language again to help me say what I can’t say. If our (the country’s) history becomes as disposable and ephemeral as a thread, at least I will have given it a small shot at preservation. And maybe we’ll both feel better for a little while. I know I could use the therapy.

It was a really good dream.

Let’s just say it. We’re in a dark place, a place we’ve never been before. Something will eventually happen to set our future course, and at some point one side or the other in the conflict will “win.” It’s yet to be determined just how all of that will happen and what a victory might look like, but somebody always gets declared winner. And so far, through every similar conflict, the planet has survived. Stay tuned, we haven’t seen the hard parts of this one yet.

Just as in the Civil War but without as much firepower so far, we’re brother against brother again, neighbor against neighbor. Uncle Ralph at Christmas dinner against the rest of the clan. E’erbody against e’erbody, just mix it up and get it over with. Sounds like a relief but I do not think it means what we think it means.

Put this in present tense and here we are:

The more things change, the more they stay the same.

A hard thing about life is that we have trouble hearing each other. It’s a universal problem, unique to the human race. The animal kingdom has no such problem, they can hear and locate each other through anything. It’s beyond impressive. I have opinions as to why we can’t manage some of that, but I’ll spare us all for today.

A thing this era is teaching me is how truly hard genuine communication is, for all the reasons, and that some people honestly can’t hear us… just as we aren’t hearing them. The filters are invisible but industrial-strength and hard to break through. Choices available to us include playing dumb, trying to listen, deciding not to care, growing a hard heart, feeling stupid, feeling like we’ve lost the plot, wondering where it all went south, wondering if relationships and the world in general will ever feel real again. If you have others, share them here in comments! None of it feels GOOD.

In closing, dearly beloved, let me just quote my grandma: “This too shall pass.” Knowing exactly when and how would help immensely, but since we’re not privy to that information we can only do that thing where you hang in and hope for the best. Glad I could be of help, call again any time, I’m in the book.

I promise you this is true.

Grateful for you on Valentine’s Day…

***

Image by Judy Smith

The Witching Week…

27 Dec 2025 Leave a comment

***

No matter how many times I’ve lived it I’m caught off guard by the vibe of the year’s final week… the quiet, the heavier sense of import, the urging to leave no wrong unrighted in big or small ways, if only in my mind. My psyche pushes me to process in seven days what’s been neglected for years, an impossible task, but this time it’s lighting a small flame under me so we’ll see if anything happens with that. I love surprising myself, AND I’d love to spend my days with a more spare, organized, informed version of me. So it’s a goal. I have the 2026 PLANNER to prove it.

Christmas 2025 came and went without fanfare but wrapped in goodness. We were able to spend a couple of hours on the weekend with family we hadn’t seen in a while, and then after years of Rita, Kimmers, and me cooking holiday meals here, we decided what we wanted to make for Christmas Day this year… was reservations. Ahhh, how sweetly festive. And soothing. Our server was tall, dark, and gorgeous, grandson age, and possessed the quality that’s above price, a layered sense of humor, thus adding to the good time. The food and drink did not disappoint and we enjoyed traditions like meat loaf, pot roast, real mashed potatoes, other actual vegetables, lovely gravy, nice wines, and a decadent dessert to share, thank you Kansas City for a great afternoon. We may have created a monster, but if so it’s a delightfully benign one.

Christmas Day is a sweet time to eat in a restaurant, surrounded by a wide assortment of fellow humans sharing connections. Everybody’s represented… young to old, parents, children, a whole bunch of nationalities and languages, siblings talking, lovers snuggling, people feeling magnanimous and in a genuinely good mood. We could do with more of this, how about a Refresher Christmas midway through the year?

Speaking of “the year,” I’m not yet fully ready to contemplate 2026. Obviously this post is all about getting there, girding my loins and other parts for anything and everything. Peace and hope to us all.

Image by Judy Smith

Okay, let it snow…

02 Dec 2025 Leave a comment

***

We knew this would happen, and “all the sudden” here it is! December 1st arrived yesterday and brought with it a brief heavy snow, so it’s official: For those who celebrate, Christmas is on its way and so is winter. I played the Old Card and chose to observe the first snow of the season by abstaining from the gym and my Monday workout, which turns out to have been the wise decision. When Kim got home from pickleball he said the streets were crazy and so were the drivers, and then I read that parts of town looked like a parking lot. This lil’ troublemaker didn’t need to be leaving tracks out there, so home and fireplace it was and it was lovely.

By now you know I’m not a holiday fanatic, or even much of a fan, but I do love the seasons, warts and all. Cold, heat, rain, snow, all good in their time because I’m fortunate enough to have a safe place that’s in out of the weather, and when I walk around town I realize what a big deal that is. The world has changed immeasurably in the new millennium, but the milk of human kindness hasn’t entirely soured yet. Every day on our local Facebook page I see proof that we still know how to love each other. Some typical posts:

“I have a bag of potatoes I need to share with someone while they’re still nice. Can you use them?”

“I found a wallet on the sidewalk today. If you’ve lost one, please provide pertinent details and we’ll git ‘er done.”

“I’m new in town, single mom, and my car’s sitting in my driveway with a flat tire. Can somebody recommend a reliable service for me to call?” (Gives general area of town.)

Followed quickly by: “Ma’am, I’m close to your neighborhood, I’ll be over in just a few minutes, no charge.”

“I have one less working guy to feed this evening, so if you need/want a plate of hot food, stop and get it on your way home.”

And on and on every day, the little stops and starts, the deep breaths, the choices made, the life sustained. They’re the golden threads, the tiny veins and capillaries that nourish this great human mating ball and keep us from annihilating our species. They’re the stuff life is actually made of and we don’t see a fraction of it.

On this sunshiny, sparkly day, though, things seem a little clearer… just for a bit… and it feels nice. I still have enough Pollyanna left to hope for a profusion of sparkly days ahead… and to hope we’ll know what to do with such abundance.

Image by Judy Smith

Month by month…

06 Sep 2025 2 Comments

***

Abundant August rains have brought us to a lush September, and fall should be a show of color. I love all of autumn but I may be prejudiced toward the month of September since it contains my birth date (today) so just know I’m doing some extra thinking. I staggered into a Facebook site last week called WDNC, populated by women WhoDoNotCare, and it’s as therapeutic as you might already imagine. In that vein and a spirit of celebration:

IDNC that I’ve never, in all these years, managed to fit the mold. Full disclosure, I still don’t even know where and what it is, so I guess that gives us the pertinent information right there, hm.

IDNC that on the little things I’m wrong more often than right, that’s just bad luck. On the BIG things I’m far more often right.

IDNC that I alone can say what qualifies as large or small in life.

There are many things I genuinely no longer care about and most of them are things I should never have cared about at all, so passing birthdays are good for perspective and a few other concepts like longevity, which reminds me… I’m not old. Not yet. Both of my grandmothers saw 96 with their minds in working order and I call that incentive. My mom had me in the same September in which she turned 20, so I always knew exactly how old she was. This year she would be 98 and likely still wouldn’t be “old,” so there’s some more perspective.

The state of human existence being what it is, I offer one piece of advice from this vantage point: Whatever it is, do it NOW.

And everybody still gets one special birthday wish, right?

Image by Judy Smith

Totally random…

05 Aug 2025 Leave a comment

***

Soooo, we’re into yet another new month, for good or ill. It’s still summer, it’s still gonna be hot, and the world is still in a wackadoodle state of mind, but happy August, boys and girls, the countdown to Christmas has begun.

Our summer skies have been just this side of eerie, and I finally realized that we were getting smoke from Canada’s fires. At times we can smell it in the air and it hangs heavy over the river. This is fair trade, considering that Canadians must feel like they’re living in an apartment above a meth lab most of the time. Thank you for your grace, northern neighbors.

It’s been a summer sprinkled with small discoveries of great import. I learned that choosing a new doctor just might provide fascinating (i.e. life or death) tidbits concerning certain meds and their dosages. I am now acing the test on that chapter. A second discovery has to do with people and their faces. Most everyone with distinctive features reminds me of someone else, and I finally realized it’s because I’ve been roaming the earth long enough to have seen those features in endless combinations on a never-ending succession of faces, thus making them all seem somehow familiar. It’s comforting except when it isn’t. Full disclosure, there are a few faces I’d rather not see again in this lifetime.

A key summer discovery was that coffee and herbal tea are not the same animal, and that caffeine has much more to say to me on a daily basis than I knew. Got a wild hair to see if I might feel more serene internally without the influence of coffee, so I quit cold turkey. Started drinking a delicious herbal tea. Felt somehow healthier. Cleaner. Let’s face it, righteous. By the time I’d slept away five afternoons in succession I was pretty disillusioned about the whole thing, so caffeine it is, at least for now, just less of it. I am not above accepting a little help with daily living.

These are hard times, so do what you can to entertain joy, which is mostly found in the simple things. Good coffee, lovely tea, excellent food, kind and astute friends, love shared… it’s all joy. And there are always flowers somewhere.

“Wildflowers” by Aoife Dowd, Irish artist. Oil on canvas.

Image by Judy Smith

Seems like just yesterday…

25 Jul 2025 Leave a comment

Photo by Kim Smith 07/2025

***

This week we’re celebrating our 21st wedding anniversary, a number that might confound the skeptics but makes us happy. Yesterday we had lunch in the Rozelle Room in the Nelson Atkins Museum of Art in Kansas City, a space that lends itself to retrospection… perspective… and projection. I wondered out loud if we might have another 21 years in us and neither of us laughed, so we’ll see. I’d be 99 years old and Kim would still be the kid he’s always been, but what’s life without the challenges, right?

The Rozelle Room. It’s casually elegant and the museum is a 3-day experience, so we’ll be going back soon. Yesterday we primarily saw the Egyptian exhibition and the one for Photography, half of which is currently closed for renovations. It’s a pretty wonderful place and good for getting steps in if you’re counting.

So… starting on the next twenty. Can’t wait.

Image by Judy Smith

Hello out there…

25 Apr 2025 2 Comments

***

Remember blog posts? Somebody who sounds a whole lot like me has stopped by here a handful of times since Christmas, left a few thoughts on the page and disappeared again, so I’ve wondered if it’s even still a thing. I finally caught up with her today and she and I absolutely agree that inspiration is hard to come by lately… it hides in the details, staying elusive just to mess with us, as life would have it… but the story is always ours to write.

Speaking of life, it goes on. Things occur every day that we’re only vaguely aware of, things that slowly but inexorably make change happen, until one day we’re shocked into a renewed awareness of our world, both personal and global. “Wait, when did they: build that, institute that, decide that, CHANGE that??” We looked away and things happened because they weren’t our job, man, and we aren’t in charge of the world, which I hope doesn’t distress any of us too much.

Winter has changed to spring here in glorious ways. That bad boy of the tree world, the Callery or Bradford pear, was EVERYWHERE with its white blossoms, nearly matched by the sweet Eastern redbuds. And now they’re all covered with brilliant green leaves. The rains have been faithful, turning the East Lawrence forest into a big ol’ showoff in its finery, and it glows when the sun’s ray find it. Nice change.

Day by day, change of every kind has its way with us, repeatedly delivering one of life’s hardest messages: Move it or lose it, change or die. Anyone who thinks life is fair hasn’t lived it yet.

I’ve started living life on the ASAP plan and liking it. Helps keep the angst down to a whisper some days…

Baby sister was here and the three of us enjoyed a lovely Ishtar lunch, graced by the tulips Kim brought home from Farmers Market, so there’s been much good change, good life, good love… all of it still in vogue and waiting for the stories to be told.

HAPPY SPRING

Image by Judy Smith

Ah yes, the New Year…

31 Dec 2024 Leave a comment

***

This morning, because her words reached me and are doing their intended work, I’m borrowing from Rachel Alana (R.A Falconer), Midwives of the Soul, with deep appreciation for her gift.

~ This year, dear friends, may we all lose weight!

The weight of expectations. The weight of self-criticism. The weight of disconnect that fills us with a deeper hunger. The weight of not always loving. The weight of a worn and weary world. Of not always accepting, seeing, and inhabiting this precious and sacred body that we’re in.

~ This year, dear friends, may we all exercise!

…our holy will! Our sacred sense of purpose. Our vision and hard-earned wisdom. Our discernment and our shining hearts. In ways that enrich connections, with our bodies, our souls and those we love. And even to the world.

~ This year, ah yes… may we all start the work of quitting…

…that collective Kool-Aid. The negative self-talk. The small-assed living. That cacophony of cockatoo-voices that drown out our souls. And old habits: Those used to stop us hearing our pain, our disappointments, and all things much better loved, seen and accepted right down to the very bottom ~ and to find true freedom, through a connection with our deepest souls.

And…

~ This fine new year, (well, here’s the best…) May we all be rich!

Yes, utterly and completely rich. Wildly and unapologetically. Rich in love. Life. Connection with one another and all that really matters. Filled to the brim and bubbling over; more again and spilling over that. Full of laughter, acceptance, joy, and less of worry. Less of sorrow ~

Rich in renewed experience, of a whole new year!

Happy 2025, dear friends!

~Rachel Alana (R.A Falconer)

Midwives of the Soul

Image by Judy Smith

Fractured fairytales…

27 Dec 2024 1 Comment

***

Once upon a time, strange as it may sound, Christmas happened in a world that wasn’t ready for it, making things discombobulated and odd from the start of the season. Planet LOOK.AT.US. was out of sorts and feeling aloof from the whole affair. Things were not right in the kingdom and no one knew how to fix it. Such a different holiday it was shaping up to be, with far too much sadness in the mix.

But wait… since the task of Christmas is to lighten hearts and gladden the soul, I must give you, instead, the story of The Four Farmer’s Daughters… have you heard this one? Get another cup of coffee and pull up a chair, it goes like this:

Long ago, in a previous century, four daughters were born. Two sets of sisters, farm girls all. After high school came the usual endeavors that send people their separate ways… college, extensive travel, careers, partners, children, life. Circumstance and the passage of time eventually conspired to bring the four together again some years into this century, hours spent realizing how alike they are in their world view and code of living.

These four women, now mostly past 70, have not lost touch since, and won’t. In the midst of this barren-feeling lonesome Christmas season, everybody listened to their inner angel and they spent hours… again… sharing food and conversation and knowing nothing’s changed. Oh, out there in the world, everything’s changed, but real friends don’t. That’s a supreme gift to open, one that makes everything seem possible. Keep it real in 2025.

Image by Judy Smith

We were festive…

26 Dec 2024 2 Comments

Just not THIS festive.

***

Christmas Day this year was sweet and special in too many ways to list, but you know I’ll try. It’s hard to sort out what the whole thing is about for me now, but what remains… always… from the past and forever… is the love. It’s entirely a feel-good day if we can do it right.

Rita was here, she and I wore our Christmas jammies, the Chiefs won, and dinner was amazing.

The traditional cheese ball I hadn’t made in 30 years. The recipe holds up.

Salmon filets in cream sauce with spinach and cherry tomatoes over Jasmine rice; candied carrots, and cheesy biscuits. And vino. Dessert was warm fruit tarts with ice cream.

The usual suspects.

Today we’re being hugged by a heavy fog and indoors is where it’s at. Perfect.

Let quiet and peace soak into your bones, and savor every blessing.

Image by Judy Smith

Let the light always remind us…

21 Dec 2024 Leave a comment

***

… that the sun will soon return.

***

Image by Judy Smith

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Playing for Time

Let the light always remind us…

Judy Smith

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ALL the stuff …

Top Posts & Pages

These people know better but they read my blog anyway.

Join the conversation …

Categories

Were you looking for …

I choose favorites …

The Nitty-Gritty

COPYRIGHT

Winnowing the Chaff

Search My Site