|Honeysuckle in my yard|
I recently decided, against my ambiguous nature, that Friday on my little blog needed its own "thing." On Twitter, Friday is known for being #ff day (Friday follow)–the day on which we all declare our social media devotion for particular blogs. The problem is that I tend to forget to do this, or tend to want to suggest over and over that you follow the same cluster of favorite blogs which I pluck and savor from my Google Reader like perfect grapes, while letting everything else rot on the vine. I am also this way about books. "Have you read Vonnegut? How about now? And now?" So, Friday, like all recurring thematic events, is sort of a fail on my part. Some bloggers publish a weekly wrap-up which includes a bunch of interesting stuff that they ran across that week, stuff they posted, stuff they put in their online stores. (Ha! Stores.) This idea gives me a launching place. I am going to do a Friday retrospective of my week–a synopsis of posts, social media happenings and random amusements, but I am going to do it with "faith in ambiguity."
Welcome to my Friday Retroflective.
What I thought
This week, Tangled Lou posted something that made me stop and realize what an ass I am. This is what good friends are for, by the way. She evoked a yellow Flashdance sweatshirt and then wrote around it with words as beautifully as if it had been wrapped in silk ribbons of thought, tied up like a Maypole. At the end, I realized that my endless whining about being "too old" or "too young", crushed between the embarrassment of apparent lack of accomplishment and the ever-draining hourglass of time is nothing but a statement to the world that everything should be different than it is. Which is about as true as your average car insurance ad. This is the life I have lived and it is worthy. And...all we are is dust in the wind...
Glennon Melton reminded me about gratitude–the kind I hate, which you is shoved upon you like overcooked spinach at the side of your plate, slightly grey and flavorless–and the kind that once made me walk to the bus every day humming "Amazing Grace" as I watched a world suddenly vivid with movement and light, and the miasma of addiction lifted off the earth. She reminded me that I–and so many more of us–are miracles.
What I posted
I started the week with a love note to my middle child, who is, for the third time this year, on crutches. After that, I complained that, although I am old enough to smell forty coming, I am still mistaken for having been a teenage mother. I was planning to wrap some great animal adventures from friends into a single post, but once I got the details of the first story from Steve, I decided that this needed to be a series and started asking for guest bloggers. (By the way, the response on this has been less than overwhelming. Don't make me come to your house.)
What I found
I discovered the talented Darlene of Adventures of a Middle Age Mom and Gianetta Palmer of Middle-Aged Fat Woman. All this on the week I was whining about being thirty-six...Time to broaden my horizons. I happened upon a great post and discussion by our very own cdnkaro called Is Blogging Really Writing? and a very thought-provoking, jolting piece on the Christian blog A Deeper Story (Full disclosure: I am not Christian) about serving Jesus in the person of a homeless man. Powerful stuff. And now you have plenty to dick around with in all your spare time.
What I attempted
I tried to used Pinterest. Go ahead and judge. (By the way, I notice nobody is very interested in my pins. It's been a bit like scrap-booking while muttering out loud to myself over social media.) However, while you are judging, you can always follow my childlike efforts to assemble quotes from my blog with images, using craft glue and scissors in Picasa. If you need an invitation, send me an email at tara at faithinambiguity.com, and I will send you one. Or you can remain Pinterest pure. It might be best.
My mom bought me a fabulous book on photography by the Shutter Sisters, and I attempted to use macro and a setting other than auto to photograph the seedlings I have growing in egg cartons. These ones are corn, and I like the way that they stand importantly, already impersonating a tiny cornfield, much as a toddler might dress as a policeman.
Here's my worst admission: in a weak moment, I joined a Blog Hop for mommy bloggers, which is vaguely like my having pledged to a sorority. I am hoping no one will notice that this was a completely abysmal idea. I am positioning myself as both a humorist and an armchair philosopher. Everyone else will have play-doh recipes. I will discuss, perhaps, the nature of reality. Sound like a fit to you?
Have a fabulous weekend.