Bits of the Day

My day was uneventful, charmingly so.

What did I do today, hard to think really. Oh yes, I paid bills, and we have $56 left, which is a bit shocking, but it makes me very glad that the bills are indeed paid. Let’s see, I updated web sites and added security. Oh, and I found a few more third cousins while searching for a death record for their mother, which I did not find. I went for a walk in the rain, early in the morning, without a raincoat or a hat; it was grand. I drove into the city to visit the dentist to check on the work that had been done. And I picked peonies to sit in a mug on the windowsill. And I stored the new composter that I purchased yesterday in the garage, because I haven’t decided on just where to put it. Well, I am sure there are more, more little things that flow through a day, more things of no ultimate consequence, except that they accumulate into a pleasant, well spent bouquet of waking hours.

Peonies on the windowsill.
2015 jun 16 peonies

Worldly Distractions


Date: 7:00 PM EDT Tuesday 16 June 2015
Condition: Partly Cloudy
Pressure: 101.3 kPa
Tendency: rising
Visibility: 24 km
Temperature: 23.0°C
Dewpoint: 16.2°C
Humidity: 65%
Wind: NNE 19 gust 30 km/h
Humidex: 28


“Do not stand at my grave and weep,
I am not there; I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow,
I am the diamond glints on snow,
I am the sun on ripened grain,I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning’s hush, I am the swift uplifting rush of quiet birds in circling flight.
I am the soft star-shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry,I am not there; I did not die.”
Mary Elizabeth Frye

Inline Feedbacks
View all comments
Reenie Beanie

I had a quiet day with quiet productiveness and wonderful friends stopping by. There’s always something to keep me busy.

Maggie, the poem you’ve included is marvelous. It carries the same sentiment of the following prayer, which will be read at my memorial:

A Jewish Prayer

As long as we live, they too will live,
for they are now a part of us,
as we remember them!

At the rising sun and at its going down
we remember them.

At the blowing of the wind and the chill of winter
we remember them.

At the opening of the buds and the rebirth of spring
we remember them.

At the blueness of the skies and the warmth of summer
we remember them.

At the rustling of the leaves and the beauty of autumn
we remember them.

At the beginning of the year and when it ends
we remember them.

As long as we live, they too will live,
for they are now a part of us,
as we remember them.

When we are weary and in need of strength
we remember them.

When we are lost and sick at heart
we remember them.

When we have decisions that are difficult to make
we remember them.

When we have joy we crave to share
we remember them.

When we have achievements that are based on theirs
we remember them.

For as long as we live, they too will live,
for they are now a part of us,
as we remember them.


Sounds like a very nice day, to me.


Maggie, I think that days like these are the ones of which true quality of life is made. Your peonies are lovely!


Hi Maggie, Sounds like a perfect day to me. The flowers are lovely.

TopsyTurvy (Teri)

Reenie, that was lovely…

Maggie, your bill paying adventure sounds a lot like mine. We’ve had a lot of excess things coming up so it makes for those ‘borrowing from Peter to pay Paul’ times.

Beautiful peonies!

Bex Crowell

I never bring my peonies into the house because they always seem to be full of ants who really love them… and I don’t want to miss a few ants only to introduce them inside where they can go forth and multiply! Enough bugs in this house as it is. I have some dark dark red peonies out front , too, this year. xoxox

Reenie Beanie

Thanks, Teri. Your kindness is always so appreciated. It is a beautiful poem.

Joan Lansberry

I love both of those poems. My mother had wanted the Frye poem to be read at her service. Alas, her brothers preferred a more evangelical Christian service, so it didn’t happen. The peonies are beautiful.

Joan Lansberry

I have had that poem with a photo of my mother on my website ever since she died, I didn’t know who the author was, other than it was in a memorial at Shanksville, PA for 9-11. I’ve now added the author to that page.

Reenie Beanie

Joan: The Gates of Prayer was given to me after my mother died. I mourned hard with a gnashing grief. I still miss her, but The Gates of Prayer is tacked on my office wall and lends its comfort when I need it. I had never read the Frye poem before. It, too, is an exquisite link to those who go before us. Love.