The Chronicles of Janie

I am a lover of simplicity.  I would rather walk than drive, sweep than vacuum, and as for washing dishes...I never even used a dishwasher 'til I was in my teens. I trust that God knew what He was doing when He placed me in the here and now, but my lifestyle does not always match my inclinations. Modernity bustles along at such breakneck speed, offers such a bewildering amount of stimulation, that I am sometimes driven to the brink of distraction. I long for the quiet solidity of simple work and the peace of separation from a clamorous world. So once in awhile, it is good to  do without some things:  internet overhead lighting limitless running water phones I do not strictly need these conveniences. I certainly don't deserve them.  It's good to be reminded of that. It's good to lay aside privilege and entitlement and simply enjoy life as it comes. To slow do...

Source I am a dazzled wanderer in this vast and dangerous world of words. I grapple vaguely with ideas that are far bigger than I am, and, generally, blunder about making a terrible hash of things. Nevertheless, writing is an important part of my regimen for maintaining mental and emotional health. Remove the splendid challenge and liberation of transforming thoughts into words, and something inside of me begins to shrivel. Writers seem to be a fairly dissimilar set of folks with individual styles and methods, striving together to achieve excellence in a craft that is vulnerable to the whims and foibles of every reader. Personally, I'm terrified about this level of vulnerability and my hat goes off to any writer who is even  trying . So far be it from me to press unsolicited advice upon my fellow scribblers (who are probably much more skilled than I am, anyway). However, if you're in the humor to waive my lack of authorly cr...

My image Snowflakes cluster thickly on my eyelashes as I stand, blinking in astonishment at the change a snowfall brings to the familiar aspects of my world.  Everything seems both sharpened and softened. Odd, the things I notice...and the things I should notice but don't.  At first glance, all is frozen and still. All but the dancing flakes and the quick flash of a blue jay's plumage as he flies to shelter in the cedars. But as I look more closely, I become aware of the movement and life that surrounds me, unseen, but no less busy or purposeful.  A long step carries me over the fence that is shorter now, since the big oak came down on top of it, and I am in the scrubby cedar hedgerow. There before me, delicately outlined in last week's un-melted snow, are the tracks of a cottontail. I trace its path as it   hopped along, leaving that distinctive dash-dot trail to mark progress. Here's where it must have paused for a bit and done whatever it is...