Friday Tidings

After her first day of preschool, I took my granddaughter to her favorite beach. We both took off our shoes and felt the warm, soft sand. Then she rolled up her pant legs and waded along the shore. It was sunny and balmy—a beautiful gift with autumn upon us. Then we spotted something pink in the water—a small pair of goggles were partially buried. I dried them off and then she spent the rest of her afternoon looking at shells, rocks, and driftwood through her rose-colored goggles. “Everything looks so pretty!” she said excitedly. “Look!” she screamed, “Seattle is pretty!”  I gazed over the water to where I could see downtown Seattle’s iconic Space Needle and city blocks full of skyscrapers. I knew Seattle wasn’t always pretty, but looking at it from a distance, through rose-colored goggles on a sunny day made all the difference. Of course I could have dampened her young spirit by reminding her that we can’t judge how things really look when we’re using a rose-colored glasses. Sh

  How will you remember the summer of ‘21? Oh, there were plenty of tough headlines: Record-breaking heat waves  Devastating wildfires.  Tropical storms  Tragic deaths from flash floods Record breaking Covid delta infections.  Government mandates: No Jab No Job. And the tragic stories from Afghanistan heightened our awareness that here in America we are still incredibly fortunate. Afghans are desperate to live, and I can take my easy life for granted. I’ll remember those tough summer of 2021 stories, but I also wrote my own:  I enjoyed every family visit.  I hugged longer. I loved with more purpose. I also joined some hardworking volunteers who built a greenhouse for our community kids. They are learning how to plant good seeds and take care of them. But I'm also seeing seeds of hope planted in these kids. Perhaps they can grow up to be problem solvers—maybe solving some problems like we faced in the summer of  ’21. Will they? That’s what planting seeds of hope can inspire

My husband snapped a photo of me in front of my old home. I only lived there a few years. Most of my childhood was spent in a home a little ways down the block.  But this new home became a place of change. I became a teenager. My sister learned how to drive. My parents both got promotions at work during those years—they also decided to take different journeys from this home. We all moved on and we each took life lessons with us. I enjoy coming back every so often and seeing the revisions to my old home—the new deck railing, different outdoor paint, and the idea that other families have made it their home. Home is often where we make the changes that lead us to places we need to go. If big changes are happening in your homes right now, may they lead you to the places where you hope to be.  Perhaps you can’t go back to one of your old homes, but you can travel back in your mind and remember those times that are part of the person you are today.  1992 visit to my old home with my d

It’s back-to-school for the majority of our kids. This is Year Three of school being disrupted or impacted by the pandemic. These kids are warriors, perhaps without knowing it. They have accepted the new rules—literally following the marked lines at school and keeping their distance, all while trying to be focused again in the classroom. A teacher-friend posted a reminder to parents—if you know your child is having a rough start to the day, just text me and say, “Handle with care”.  Questions won’t be asked, but extra care will be provided to help the day go a bit easier. That’s a tremendous idea for us all. Let’s Handle with Care all who are coping with everything from work related pandemic pandemonium to figuring out how to relearn a math concept at their school desk. Since we don’t wear signs that say, Handle with Care, keeping alert for those having a tough day helps us all.