Imagination

March 2, 2026

Poem from Hagar:

Imagination

sparkling gift, wealth of childhood…

it brush-paints long days

pours hourglass full…illusions

spiced honey panacea–

Harsh-edged Time erodes

warps veneer…Reality

bared leaves soul at risk

~H~

The Torch

February 28, 2026

The torch we hold up for others illuminates our own path.🔦

Andrew Murray

Andrew Murray (9 May 1828 – 18 January 1917) was a South African writer, teacher and Christian pastor. Murray considered missions to be “the chief end of the church”. Wikipedia

10 Things of Thankful

February 28, 2026

💖💖💖

I’m happy and grateful just to be able to share thankfuls!!  I’ve not always been in this place/space…so it merits a LOUD HALLELUJAH just to “selah” (pause/consider/reflect/marvel) that!

Here’s more:  I’m very thankful I didn’t have a nervous breakdown this week due to magnifying a mere misunderstanding (as my cousin would say if she were still in Texas, rather than Heaven:  “you are SO Dramatic!!”).  Yeah well, when God created me I guess he left out the Divine equivalent to Valium.  

Seriously, though–in a conflict of whatever size, my best defense is JESUS and the Holy Spirit’s gang unit.  A win-win, and no blood spilled!

I’m once again, and always grateful for the few excellent friends I have…as Kermit the frog sang, “it’s not easy being green”–and it’s not easy for reasonably normal folks to inhabit the world of a green person (cousin of Kermit).

I’m thankful we still have NO snow–some days rain, but mostly gorgeous sunshine with the promise of more, since Daylight Savings Time is just around the corner.

Glad and grateful to have a truly caring caregiver–it’s still a miracle to me that she comes back each week…and girl, she folds all my clothes up in neat little squares after doing laundry!  The first time, I laughed–but she insisted they’d fit in the bureau drawers better.  I feel like a queen–because I was used to quite happily just balling up and smooshing everything into drawers.

I’m thankful for all the Customer Service folks I speak with on the phone when I have a question, or want to make payments…they’re so friendly, ‘specially the guys (who’ve evidently been brought up to be kind to old women), very nice and helpful.  I guess that counts for “socializing”, right?

I’m thankful the Scallops Alfredo turned out well last night–it’s even better tonight!

And my nabe and I exchanged dinners again, mid-week:  I made turkey vegetable soup, she cooked Mexican.  But it’s about to get rough–she has to stop pretending she needn’t follow Dr’s orders to absolutely QUIT sugar…so there go all the yummy desserts…

I’m grateful for a change in perspective about blogging this year–I’m no longer a prisoner on the chain gang of Stats…sweet Freedom indeed!!

And I’m thankful to be fully immersed in this rich Lenten season…so good to feel the depth of the Lord’s love, that He would submit to the agony of His last days on Earth so that I could be with Him forever–washed clean, made new, a Somebody beloved of God.  Jesus be the Name I praise!

~ Cale

PS:  I think I went over 10–is there a fine for that?😉

 

Beware Pandora’s Jar ~ 6SS, Part 2

February 28, 2026

https://girlieontheedge1.wordpress.com/2026/02/25/its-thursdays-six-sentence-story-blog-hop-60/

~♥~

Judd squinted into the woodsy shadows for some hint of an entrance to Birchwick Cliff–his wife Lorelei sat beside him, quiet as they approached the mysterious myth-bound town; she bent forward suddenly: “there, Judd–that’s the massive wrought iron gate Richard described, it really does look formidable”; he murmured, “yes”, unwilling to admit he was spooked–he couldn’t tell if it was locked, hoped so…then he could head back to the highway with no apology.

Lorelei was the brave one, brimming with enthusiasm on this adventure; she was getting out of the car when Judd grabbed her arm protectively–she grinned and shook him off– “I’m going to see if it’s open and we can drive through”.

He watched her, breath held as though on a stakeout; she had pushed inside, entered the creepy place…and his stomach rolled with nausea; she stuck her hand back out, beckoned him to join her.

Cracking his door a few inches, he said, “just tell me what you see, Love” (he was kicking himself for not calling Richard to ask him to meet them here ‘for a tour’…the sensible thing to do).

She walked back to the car and leaned against it, her face flushed with excitement as she offered intel: “there are 2 signs just past the gate, one says ‘BEWARE’, and underneath, ‘Pandora’s Jar’…and it has little painted fruits on it; I think it might be a garden shop–maybe they sell jams and preserves made by women who live here.”

Judd’s mind veered in a different direction:  from what Lorelei had read to him from Richard’s book, anything they were selling contained a risk of poisoning; death permeated ‘the Cliff’s’ history–suicides and murder (and somewhere, he’d heard the youngsters had all vanished)–his late Grandma’s admonitions to resist curiosity echoed within him:

“beware–don’t open Pandora’s Jar”).

~ Cale

Love’s Bridges💖

February 27, 2026

There is a land of the living and a land of the dead, and the bridge is love, the only survival, the only meaning.

Thorton Wilder

~~♠~~

He who cannot forgive others destroys the bridge over which he himself must pass.

George Herbert

Beware Pandora’s Jar ~ 6SS, Part 1

February 26, 2026

https://girlieontheedge1.wordpress.com/2026/02/25/its-thursdays-six-sentence-story-blog-hop-60/

Once again Denise’s prompt for 6 Sentence Story arrives like a life raft on a stormy sea (cue the melodramatic music)–and a wonderful prompt word it is:  SIGN.  So if you’re not familiar yet, no worries, this is a friendly island oasis–just click her link above and start typing…it’s only 6 sentences, and gets you right in the door to join a crowd of fine authors!

~♥~

Ever since reading their pastor’s locally acclaimed biography, Lorelei had badgered her husband to take a break from his work so they could drive into Birchwick Cliff and check out the sites mentioned in Richard’s book.

Judd didn’t share her fascination with the mystique of a small town’s weird history (it had never crossed his mind to have a look)–she’d told him the details of Richard’s experiences as she eagerly read each chapter, so he’d had no need to read it himself; and though he’d gladly step away from his easel to satisfy his wife’s intimate needs, he was diligent about his second career–his commissioned paintings provided income which added to his retirement pension as savings for rainy days.

But she pleaded so prettily this day that he sighed and acquiesced–it wasn’t a long drive from their home in Westling, they’d be back for dinner and Lorelei would be happy.

The church they attended was located adjacent to the border of Birchwick Cliff, the town (but not IN it–as though resisting too close an association); that was the sum total of information to be had about the village named for the cliff–unless you determined to dig for it; Birchwick Cliff didn’t appear on area maps, and was not recognized, acknowledged by GPS authority. 

Quoting Richard’s book: “if you asked how to get to Birchwick Cliff, you’d likely be told to ‘take the road to the church…behind it is the town…next is the Cliff so watch your footing’.”

Richard had written that the town was cloaked in secrecy for reasons unspeakable–no outsider, especially Richard (a writer triggered suspicion), had ever found welcome there; one entered at one’s own risk (and potential folly)…the risk, vague and veiled; and Judd–despite Lorelei’s encouragement–was not seeing a single helpful sign.

~ Cale  (Part 2 continues tomorrow!)