grace grits and gardening

ramblings from an arkansas farm girl

Hangover

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hang·over

 noun ˈhaŋ-ˌō-vər  that remains from what is past (Merriam-Webster)

Raise your hand if you have a political hangover. Tired of the nasty rhetoric. Thankful the election is over. Ready to move on. 

No matter what side you were on, we should all be back on the same side today. The side of our country.
Every day marks a new chance to do something different, make a change, be creative. Look at things a different way.
Be a part of the solution.
One thought, one gesture, one person can be the start of something new. Something that will make a difference. One stone thrown into the lake makes hundreds of ripples until reaching the shore. Enough ripples alter the shoreline.
Everyone talks about changing the world, but no one talks about changing themselves.
Every day our body generates new cells, new chances—life. Each day we have the opportunity to participate. Until our days are used up.
talya
Musical Pairing:

“You’re braver than you believe, and stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think.” –A.A. Milne

in His sight

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Remember those church songs from childhood— Jesus Loves Me and Jesus Loves the Little Children? We sang them in Vacation Bible School and church camp. They were the first lyrics we memorized, words we couldn’t forget if we tried.
red and yellow, black and white, they are precious in His sight…

Eureka Springs, Spring Street, Arkansas
Spring Street, Eureka Springs, Arkansas

Yesterday, I thought about those songs while walking along Spring Street. It was a glorious autumn day with summer’s sidewalks buried under layers of leaves.

I searched for that perfect yellow leaf, brighter than all the rest, golden among scarlet and orange.

Unable to pick just one, they were all beautiful. Each different.

Precious in His sight—absolutely.

talya

Grace Grits and Gardening
Farm. Food. Garden. Life.

Musical Pairing:

Jesus Loves the Little Children

Razorback Conversation…

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Walking along Spring Street on a beautiful fall morning, everyone scrambles to do yard work—weeding, raking (a lost cause…), even painting porch railings before winter settles into the mountains.
Spring Street, Eureka Springs, Arkansas
Spring Street, Eureka Springs, Ar
From yard to yard, I overhear the same chat after chat between husbands, wives, yard workers, painters, partners, neighbors, each blending into the next. Same topic, each with a slightly different color or feel or tone. Bits of these conversations floated from porch to sidewalk where I pieced them together like a home-sewn quilt.

One cohesive narration about…

RAZORBACK FOOTBALL, or lack thereof…
the quarterback is ok I guess
terrible season
coach is awful
be glad when this season is over
we had such high hopes
haven’t even been to a game
and so on and so on
From house to house, I heard streaming Razorback commentary. 
Spring Street, Eureka Springs, Arkansas

As I walked by the last home before the curve toward Dairy Hollow, a man nodded hello to me as he hauled stones for his crumbling rock wall.

“You know, this morning your neighbors all the way back to the library are having one long conversation about the Razorbacks.”
“Guess we should all get together over coffee…” he laughed.
“It’s interesting. One street-long conversation about the Razorbacks.”
“Well, there’s only one topic worse than the Hogs.”
“What’s that?”

“Politics.”

talya
Grace Grits and Gardening
Farm. Food. Garden. Life.


Food. Farm. Garden. Life.

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