Various points of interest

It's funny how when things turn out the least like we had imagined they would, they actually turn out better than we could have planned.

Examples are found all around us in nature and...well...my cooking, and a slough of other things too.

A friend was telling me tonight about how a church service this weekend was rather raw, but that made it so much better. I wish I had been there: To not have every last detail planned out and organized and filed down to a nub of nothing; to not have perfection is itself perfect.

Another example...the human face. It is our imperfections that make us unique and idetifiable and beautiful. If we were to actually see a face that was perfectly symetrical, it would look odd to our eyes. See, even our estimation of looks is based on imperfections.

Ironic
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Hmm, what next? well, I have a choir concert coming up this weekend. You are all invited to come, so if you are interested, email me and I will get you directions and times.
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A child called me Aunt Laura this past weekend! What a thrill. Yes, he was my nephew...sort of...long story. He's my nephew as far as I am concerned and his gramma introduced me as Aunt Laura, so that's my new name from now on (see post about I'm an Aunt and subsequent commentation). Yay! I am excited about this. Anyway, my nephew, mentioned here, just got a baby brother a couple months ago...also my nephew - only in smaller form, so I got to see them both. Now if I could just work up the guts to hold the little guy. I like babies, I am just a bit scared to hold them. I haven't even held baby G. and I've know him for the past 10 months! He's nearly past "holding age". ;)
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I was looking out the window earlier watching the snow fall. We don't get much snow here, so when if falls, you watch. It reminded me of being a kid and playing in the snow out in the back yard by the shed. We had lots of Ponderosa Pine trees surrounding the property and the shed had a bright flood light that peirced the darkness. I remember often times laying in a snow drift looking toward the sky. I would lay there and watch the flakes float down, making their decent to the earth. They would fall on my face and sting a little; they would stick to my eye lashes until I blinked them away. It would get dark and I would still be there watching the flakes as they passed the light. It would highlight each one and cast a shaddow across the white blanket that already covered the rest of the yard. I'd close my eyes and listen, snow flakes still glancing my face, sticking to my eyebrows too. It is hard to describe the sound a flake makes as it lands among the millions already gathered. Both silence and sound. Sometimes the wind would blow causing the trees to offer a strange cheer or applause. I would lay there in the pounding silence until I was numb in most parts or heard my mother's voice calling for me and then would run into the house to warm by the fire.

Ah, memories.