Printer's Commute

The frigid day began
with an overcast sky
of indiscriminate hue
that blended into
a vague horizon.

Except for tiny
green mile markers,
it was like
driving inside
a grayscale pic.

The day ended
with a cold sun
sinking through
a Pantone palette
of purple layers
while trapped
in icy crystals
like light inside
an Orange Julius.

© Glenda Mathes

Recognizing and Repenting

When one is raised in the context of regular corporate worship and daily family devotions, it becomes all too easy to think about sin in a vague way and simply pray, "Forgive our sins," without being struck by the serious nature of each personal sin.

Some years ago, I realized that genuine repentance can occur only after recognizing the sin in one's life. I've made it my practice to pray that I and my family members will recognize and repent from our sins. Recently that prayer's being answered in new ways and I find it a far from comfortable feeling.

Nearly every time I think critically about a fault of some other person, the Lord brings to my mind a way in which I commit the very same sin.

It's a humbling experience.

Libby

For years my motto has been, "No more pets and I mean it."

After raising four children and dealing with their motley assortment of fish, newts, rabbits, gerbils, finches, cats, and dogs (one of which was hopelessly incontinent), I'd felt I'd had enough of pets to last a lifetime.

But lately Ariel's little Yorkypoo, Layla, has made me sometimes think, "If we could ever find a dog with as nice a personality as Layla, I might not mind it so much."

Enter Libby.

Weighing somewhere around one pound at eight weeks, she's a tiny Yorkpoo who fits in the palm of my hand -- or in a cup.

She's the last puppy from Layla's parents and she became available last week. We went just to look, but that intelligent salesman said, "Take her with you for a while."

Of course, that was it. If we were going to keep her overnight, we needed the $18 two-tone pink plastic "pet taxi" and the $10 bag of "veterinary recommended" puppy bites. Not to mention the $3 pink collar and the $12 retractable leash. Once we had invested in those things and gotten through the first night, it made no sense to take her back.

From the start, it just seemed that Libby was the right name for such a little bitty thing.

Libby's first day at our house was spent with Layla, who is more than a year old and seems more than twice Libby's size.

I confess I've had a few moments when I wondered, "What was I thinking?" Particularly since I have finally reached the stage in my life that allows me to concentrate on my writing. If there's one thing a writer needs, it's the ability to focus. And -- as my son so astutely reminded me -- pets take a lot of focus.

At a family gathering on Saturday, I said that my relatives probably noticed I hadn't been able to eat much. I admitted it was because I was already full; I'd had to eat my words.

Political Process

There was a time when I thought it was exciting to be part of the political process in Iowa. But that was before dozens of political calls, the last dozen of which have interupted my work just today.

I will be thankful when the caucuses are over!