Wordle

Thanks to La Perfectionista for this...





(click on it...)

The Rest of the Story on Scents...

For nearly a month, there's been an intention to blog... but as my Irish grandmother used to say, "Good intentions pave the road to h@##..." (She only started using that kind of language in her 90's -- but she was 4'11" of spitfire and quirky humor all her days.) Bottom line, intentions don't cut it. But there is another chapter to be told about the Scents & Sensibility post. And even thirty days or more after the fact, it is a sweet tale.

My DH (not to be confused with my dear DMH and my dear GDH) was touched by the Scents blog. In fact, he wanted me to send it somewhere -- he thought it should have a wider readership and he thought the message was important. Well, dear readers, if I can not get my act together to post a holiday blog, or a Christmas blog, or a New Year's list of resolutions, the chances of my chasing down publishing venues are slim.

Still, he really, really liked the post. So underneath the tree on Christmas morning, was a beautifully wrapped package -- all red and gold -- topped by a thick card. Upon my turn, I opened it (we may be lapsed Presbyterians, but we still do things in order--even on Christmas morning!). Inside the card was a copy of my blog and a message about how he had looked high and low for a perfume called 'Integrity' or 'Honesty' or 'Kindness' but couldn't find one. He wrote that he wanted to give me a perfume which reflected what he saw in my character. There were two he debated over -- one called 'Amazing Grace' and another called 'Beautiful'. In the red and gold box was a gift set of lotion, cologne and perfume. It is Beautiful to think that after many years of marriage your best friend can still look at you and see something of beauty. The discerning heart that sees what is important and the eager hunter that always finds just the perfect, reflective gift are two of the many reasons why I love my Dear Husband.

If there were a scent named for him it would be called The Best.

Scents & Sensibility

Every year at this time advertising accelerates which means more catalogs and more perfume inserts falling out of them.

Yesterday, I decided to actually sniff at some of these inserts and found myself sidetracked by the naming of perfumes. Long ago, when my dear Mother was braiding my curly hair, there were two perfumes – Jean Nate and Chanel No. 5. She used one or the other to pat down the rosy frizzies crowning my head. Never gave their names much thought. Later on I began to notice other perfumes… Lily of the Valley (not hard to understand), Emeraud (okay…green bottle like emeralds), and then I encountered Tabu – a fascinating name for a fourteen-year-old. Tabu was the first perfume that got me wondering about scents and nonsense. The idea of smelling like something forbidden was quite delicious in my junior-high thinking… as long as that forbidden something actually smelled tolerable.

The years rolled and with them a range of names – some fruity – like Royal Lime and Love’s Fresh Lemon -- with the implications that limey equals royalty and lemons are the scent of love. Then came Love’s Baby Soft – who doesn’t love a baby and they are soft! There was also 4711 which I never understood, except that if Chanel could have a number 5, there were perhaps 4,706 other scents between the two including 1000 De Jean Patou, 12 Couturier, and 273.

There were the flower scents – Fleur de Desirade, Fleur d’Eau, and Fleur D’Interdit as well as the water scents – Cool Water, Eau de Soir and Eau Savage (what do savage waters actually smell like… a Minnesota pond in late August? No sale.)

Moving forward in life, I noticed that perfume naming branched out – Obsession, Compulsion and Secret Obsession hit the market – perfumes which had a corresponding diagnosis code in the Physician’s Desk Reference. Now one could literally, wear one’s issues on one’s sleeve. And then there are the subtle implications of smelling like Intuition, Happy, Splash, Splendour and Sensuous. One can choose between a drop of lofty, laughy or a little naughty.

Then came Eternity and Heaven. Perfume could be a spiritual experience that lifts one’s sight above that of human experience. Clothed in eternity, one hopes to reach heaven so these are scents that seem somehow, relevant.

Which brings us to yesterday. The first fragrance to fall out of the catalog was Unforgivable. What does that mean? Is the person who wears it is beyond forgiveness or is it unforgivable to purchase it – or not purchase it? What does being unforgivable actually smell like? It seems to me that being beyond forgiveness may actually have the scent of death about it. Does anyone actually want to smell that way? Isn’t being unforgivable a scary thing?

Perhaps it is too great a leap to jump from perfume to the Bible – although there was that woman who used a bottle of precious perfume on the feet of Jesus. Jesus was all about forgiveness and it seems He wanted us to be about forgiveness also. The Bible says there is only one thing that is truly unforgivable. I, for one, do not want to be known for that. Yet forgiveness is not a ride on a pink duck (to borrow a phrase) – sometimes it is easy to feel unforgivable and very hard to be forgiving. But do we want to smell Unforgivable?

Have we come to a point in our culture that being the bad man or woman is so alluring that we glorify it and name perfumes after it?

I would like my life to reflect a different aroma – perhaps a perfume called Integrity or Compassion or Faithfulness or Gentleness – but those fragrances are not to be found at the perfume counter and I wonder… Why?

The answer was found in the next fragrance leaflet falling from the catalog.

It was called I Am King.

Google Analytics...

... do you have google analytics?

It is that helpful little program that fills one's life with all sorts of interesting statistics. For example, this evening I clicked on analytics and found a red 43.6 percent with a downward arrow. (Insert sad face.)

But my favorite part of the reporting is going in a bit further to read about visitors (Don't worry, it does not divulge the identity of blog visitors-- you, dear reader, may remain anonymous!) There are interesting stats, graphs, maps and categories -- the best of which is entitled:
Absolute Unique Visitors.
Isn't that a wonderful label?

After all, most people are absolutely unique in some way. It is a privilege to discover exactly what is unique about each person.

As we enjoyed an evening with good friends tonight, listening, laughing and sharing stories, I looked around the table and was struck with the uniqueness of each friend. We have different interests, backgrounds, and life experiences and yet the delight of being together, catching up and relating as a group was rich and satisfying.

In the analytics of my heart, the evening will be recorded as 100 percent with an upward arrow. I am so grateful for the gifts of authentic relationships, laughter, and the love of friends!

15 Years of Thankful...

This is a significant day in our lives -- I am so thankful for the last 15 years. The ups and downs, the crazy pace, the people-packed years, the love, giggles, sobs, sighs, struggles, triumphs -- they add up and spill over with the sheer joy of knowing you are there, morning after morning, day after day, year after year.

You know who you are... and why I'm so thankful.

I'll keep showing up, as long as you are there!

H., H., T., M.,

L

Giving Thanks at All Times in All Places

Poised on the edge of great gratitude, the world news pops up on your screen and you read about violence in India... or just before bed, your stepson pops into the kitchen with a long face to tell you that one of his young colleagues was randomly, murdered last night on the way home from rehearsal. And the great swell of gratitude on Thanksgiving eve -- enhanced by the fragrance of freshly baked pie -- turns into a swamp of stinky despair and questions.

There are no answers for this type of evil and the contrast between this and the great feast we are about to enjoy in the name of thankfulness simply boggles the mind.

Yet we are called to give thanks... and when we can not -- when the journey is too incomprehensible we find it hard to mark the day with anything but sadness.
Gratitude is a choice.
When I do not feel it. I will do my best to choose it... and leave the rest to the One who already holds the outcome to all things in His holy hands.

Handel's Messiah

This evening, it was a privilege to hear the Kansas City Symphony and Chorus perform Handel's Messiah. No matter how many times I hear it, the music and words move my spirit. Coming away, the night air was brisk -- there was quiet... but the memory of the music pulsed in head and heart. Is there a better gift than music -- especially the music that sounds through corridors of time?

I'm grateful!