Rainy days are most always my favorite days. I like the cool and crisp air, the sound of raindrops on a metal roof, the distant thunder of an approaching storm. I feel like life is slowing down on rainy days. I feel like I have more hours in the day. I have time to read a book, make a list of things that I need to do, organize any scattered pictures, straighten a closet…I can do anything I want without rushing.

I feel happy on rainy days.

And then…like magic…the sun returns and the world brightens. The colors are so much more vivid and the sunlight makes the shadows dance. When the sun does make a triumphant return, I can think of so many fun places to go, new challenges to try. I feel free when the sun shines…I feel vibrant.

I feel happy on sunny days.

Maybe sunny days are my favorite days. I simply cannot choose. The fact is that all days are really my favorite days. Why not? I have another day to love my family. I have another day to make someone’s road easier. I have another day achieve a goal. I have another day to learn something new. I have another day to make a brand new friend. I have another day to get in touch with an old friend. I have another day to laugh, to smile, to find where joy might be hiding. I have another day to make certain that I look at the glass half full instead of half empty. I have another day to be as positive as possible.

I choose to feel happy on all days. I only have one day to make this day a best day.

“This is the day which the Lord has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it.”

Psalm 118:24…New American Standard Bible

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Music has directed so many of my thoughts and my feelings. I came to a conclusion about sunny versus rainy days after first hearing…

“Sunshine On My Shoulders”

by John Denver.

I was in my early twenties and still deciding who I was and who I wanted to be. The words to the song seemed to speak loud volumes of sense to me…then and now.

Read the words and listen to the song…it may be a slow tempo, but maybe it needs to be slow…so that we can hear each word distinctly and find our own meaning!

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Sunshine On My Shoulders

Written by John Denver

Sunshine on my shoulders makes me happy
Sunshine in my eyes can make me cry
Sunshine on the water looks so lovely
Sunshine almost always makes me high

If I had a day that I could give you
I’d give to you a day just like today
If I had a song that I could sing for you
I’d sing a song to make you feel this way

Sunshine on my shoulders makes me happy
Sunshine in my eyes can make me cry
Sunshine on the water looks so lovely
Sunshine almost always makes me high

If I had a tale that I could tell you
I’d tell a tale sure to make you smile
If I had a wish that I could wish for you
I’d make a wish for sunshine for all the while

Sunshine on my shoulders makes me happy
Sunshine in my eyes can make me cry
Sunshine on the water looks so lovely
Sunshine almost all the time makes me high.

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/sunny/

Ford Mustang!

I couldn’t have a car on campus when I was a freshman in college. School rules said…NO, NO, NO. It was just as well…I had yet to have my own car anyway! I had never even thought about getting my own car. Having my very own wheels seemed like a very remote prospect.

Good luck came my way when I met a group of girls in my dorm from Waco…one of them had a Volkswagon convertible! Saved by the bell! Freedom! Of course, it was a bit uncomfortable when six or seven girls piled inside. But…who cares?

As the second semester was almost complete, a special something happened! My uncle worked for the Ford dealership in my hometown. Uncle Merton told my Dad about a FORD MUSTANG that had just arrived on the used car lot! A Mustang from one of the first years that they were made! I certainly did not mind that it was used! No problem there!

The car was blue. The car was fast. The car was…well…totally cool. But…most important…the car was a good price!

The blue Ford Mustang became mine!

When I took my Ford Mustang to college for the Fall semester, I was so proud that I drove around campus for at least an hour every day. It is a wonder that I had time for class. I kept that car spotless and admonished anyone who left a scrap of paper in the car. Actually, I must have been a truly problematic friend!

I bought a blue trash container to match my car. No litter in my car!

One day, I picked up a guy who I knew from the school newspaper staff who was walking back to the dorm. I felt sorry for the boy since he didn’t have any wheels. I must have been a show-off. Anyway, he got in my car and proceeded to try to light a cigarette. He might have succeeded except for the fact that I quickly grabbed the cigarette and threw it out the window.

So much for getting a date with that guy. He jumped out at the next corner. I made a “no smoking” in my car sign. I wrote it sort of politely.

And then it happened. My roommate wanted to go downtown to buy a sweater for a date that night. Of course, I agreed. Going downtown was another excuse for driving down Main Street while waving to people like I was in the Homecoming parade. It was slightly raining and a bit slippery. A car stopped in front of me to turn left…no brake lights…and we were both busy waving. So I plowed into the back of the other car. No one was hurt. I got the ticket…a big ticket. My Mustang  was (or so they said) fixable.  

My parents were not at all happy. My roommate’s parents were not happy. We never waved again…well, not very much. Anyway, she stole my new boyfriend the very next week. She lost the chance to ever, ever ride in my car again!

One of my college dorms! I parked my car in the very front!

Eventually, I calmed down about my car. I was just so excited about having it! And then…it started acting up. The wreck was too much for it. Or maybe my driving was too much for it. Sometimes, it would not start at all. Sometimes, the key would get stuck. Sometimes, the gears would not work correctly. The air conditioner stopped behaving. Everything was wrong, but I kept it until I graduated. I even drove it (barely) for a year or so after graduation.

By that time, I was working at a newspaper and decided to buy a new car! No! Not a Mustang! My new favorite car…

A BRAND NEW CHEVROLET CAMARO!    

I paid sticker price…no haggling at all. Where was my mind? Today, I would argue for three weeks about the price!

However…that Chevrolet Camaro was one fine car!!! 

Chevrolet Camaro!

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/wheel/

Barton Springs Pool at Zilker Park…a favorite local “place to be” in Austin, Texas…the ultimate summertime swimming hole to me!!

When you jump into Barton Springs Pool for a swim, be prepared! The water feels absolutely freezing! Fed from underground springs, the water is usually 68 degrees to 70 degrees. Yikes!! Compared to the probably near or over 100 degree weather…the water is indeed cold…and just what you need on a hot Texas day.

Spanish explorers discovered the springs way back in the 17th century and eventually built (in about 1739) missions at the site. The springs were considered sacred and were first used by the Tonkawa Native American tribe who lived in the area.

There have been several private owners of the springs, but the last owner–Andrew Jackson Zilker–deeded it to Austin in 1918. The city proceeded to create a large swimming area by damming up the springs. Sidewalks were put into place and a bathhouse was built.

Barton Springs Pool brings about a yesteryear type of feeling to me…the bathhouse, the canoes and the rowboats/the picnic areas/the kids throwing footballs/ the happy swimmers just about everywhere. The key word is happy…hardly anything better than hearing laughter from all ages…at a beautiful swimming hole on a hot summer day!!

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The Swimming Hole

The Swimming Hole


A burbling tuneful peaty burn
Like amber whisky flowing clear
Where darting minnows twist and turn
Is soothing music to my ear.

Between the banks of rushes green
Below the falls a deep dark pool
Where lads who come to swim are seen
Enjoying fun and keeping cool.

I paddle in the flowing brine
Where icy waters cool my feet
And ripple through my toes, sublime.
A feeling rare, supremely sweet.

The swimming hole, a place to be
When sun is warm and spirits free
I spend a quiet happy day
And watch my worries float away

Copyright © Margaret Foster | Year Posted 2010

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“Texas Country Reporter”…one of my favorite shows…reports on favorite Texas Swimming Holes! 

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/local/

Photo by kindergartenknowledge.com

Looking out from a window, the grass growing nearby looks vibrant and damp from a recent rain. I see it so clearly. 

I cringe when I think about the dense fog that is almost beyond my view. How can I possibly see clearly enough to drive through the hills and down the curvy roads? What if the fog extends to the highway? What if it is foggy in the city?

I wonder too much. I worry too much. I tend to make big things out of little things. I exaggerate. I make assumptions. I am just a regular person with regular person attributes and fears.

I am just a regular person with continuous hopes and dreams. My imagination makes me fearful sometimes and yet my imagination gives me meaning. I do need to see with clarity…I need to remove the fog from within me. Only then will I appreciate the sustenance that the hidden chapel in the picture will give me.

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/cringe/

Fog of illusion outside.

Fog during the drive to work.

Fog on the brain.

Fog of a conversation.

Fog with decisions.

Fog tells me to hide.

No! I cannot see through the fog.

Yes…you can.

Try…just try.

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/illusion/

Methodist Sunday School teachers in 1898-99 had a book chockfull of good ideas for lessons. Included in the book were at least two lessons for every Sunday of the year. I am wondering if other denominations found a copy of the book to accidentally use?!! The book was 25 cents for one year. If you bought six copies, the price went down to 20 cents! Seems like a bargain…right?

“Picture Lesson Paper”

An entire book for 25 cents in 1898-99…I better not mention what I recently paid for it…but the price was close to $20 and I thought that was a bargain! And the cover was missing!

Times…They are a Changin’!

I found this book in yet another antique store…I might need to stay out of those places! This particular book was way in a back corner of a shop in Jefferson, Texas. Jefferson is an ideal place to shop for antiques if you happen to be in East Texas. Very old and ornate houses, an original downtown area, many Bed & Breakfast homes, an old hotel…and even a ghost tour at night complete the “long ago” atmosphere of Jefferson. I thought that this book was a real find…my husband thought that I was losing my mind. I already have the stack of vintage magazines. Oh well!

The lessons seem so innocent…so sweet…so needed today. It seems like young children today spend more time thinking about when they will get a cell phone, than time thinking about goodness and grace. Not all children, but maybe too many are appearing to take the questionable path. Some seem to be reluctant to try to commit to good will. The world does needs more good will, not less!

The following are a sampling of the Sunday School lessons from 1898-99…

1. January 29, 1899

” A little boy was playing in a park where there was a fountain. He kept running to the fountain for a drink. His mother said to him, “Harry, what make you drink so much?”

“O, mamma,” he said, “I keep getting thirsty again. Every drink of water wants another drink after it goes down.”

So it is when we try to satisfy our hearts with the pleasant things of life, forgetting Jesus’s love. Everything we try wants something else to come after it, and we are always thirsty for something else til we come to Jesus to be satisfied with the water of life.”

May 31, 1899

“How nice!” said Arthur, as he peeped into the butler’s pantry. ” I will step up on this stool and look at the lovely cakes. Mamma says I must not touch them, but it is not wrong to take a good smell of them.”  The little hands wanted to break off a piece, so Arthur said, “Little hands, you must go behind me and stay; I am afraid you will do some mischief.” He put his hands behind him and held them fast; but the cakes smelled so good that he kept getting nearer and nearer, until his lips touched one of them, and before he could think much about it he had taken one bite, and then another, and another, until he had nibbled three cakes. He heard someone coming and hid behind the door.

“Who has spoiled my cakes, I wonder?” said his Mamma. Arthur began to feel troubled. He looked at his hands.

“You did not do it, little hands, did you?” said Arthur to himself.

“I am afraid my boy has done this,” said his Mamma and she called, “Arthur, Arthur”

Arthur stepped from behind the door, held out his hands, and said, “My little hands did not touch it, Mamma.”

“Who do you think has done it?’ said his Mamma.

Arthur would not tell a wrong story. The tears began to roll down his cheeks as he said, “Your little boy, Mamma.”

“I am glad you have told me the truth, my dear child,” said she. “The little hands would not have been to blame if they had touched it. It would have been Mamma’s little boy.” It was a lesson for Arthur, and he never did such a thing again.

June 18, 1899

Edith is only a school girl and not very wise, but she has some of the wisdom that is better than any to be gotten from books. So she does not spend her time fretting over things she does not have. She enjoys what she has.

“Don’t you wish you were going to the seashore?” asked Margaret.

“I would like it,” said Edith; “but I’m glad I’m going to Grandpapa’s. I always have a good time there.”

“Wouldn’t you like to have a new dress like Mary’s?” said Jessie.

“Yes, but I like mine just as well,” was the answer.

Edith has “the little sprig of content” which gives a rich flavor to everything.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                         August 21, 1893

Listen, children, can you tell?

Do you know the story well-

How the hungry world is fed,

How we get our daily bread?

In early spring the farmer said:

“The hungry children must be fed,

And I must raise their daily bread.

“I’ll plow the field and harrow it so,

And then the seeds of wheat I’ll sow;

The sun and rain will make them grow.”

“And when the summer days have flown,

Those tiny seeds that I have sown

Will into waving wheat be grown.”

“The wheat I’ll reap, into bundle binds

Then some good miller I will find,

Who into flour my grain will grind.”

“Then the baker’ll buy the flour,” he said,

“And mix it well to make good bread;

And so the children will be fed.”

December 25, 1898

“Peace on Earth!”

https://dailypost.wordpress.com/prompts/commit/