Trees

March 24, 2021

Good morning.  It's seven thirty and I'm still waiting for the sun to come out.  I now have two weather apps on my phone.  One says it will be overcast/cloudy, and the other says it will be sunny.  My weather app predicament just grew.  They both give different high temperatures for today too.  I suppose I cold just mix them together and come up with my own forecast.  

One says no rain, the other says 4% chance of rain.  One says 59 degrees for a high and 39 degrees for a low, and the other says 63 degrees for the high and 48 for the low.  I got the second weather app from the Weather Channel thinking that I might get a better idea of the correct weather forecast.  So much for that idea!

Last night I worked on the second lapghan.  Now I only have nine more rows to go to finish it.  However, I might run out of yarn before I get to the end.  I suppose that this could be a good excuse to look for a new color of yarn for another project.  (A girl just has to try!)  I'm thinking that I might need a couple lapghans for my porch.  Yes?

Deanne came by yesterday after work and we sat out on the porch for quite a while enjoying the birds and the fresh air.  I don't have to tell you how nice that felt.  When she left, she took my outgoing mail and dropped it off at the Post Office.  Thank you Deanne.  I feel better knowing that the bills will get to their destinations on time.

I borrowed a couple very touching images from the web to share with you.  Our trees are so very important to our survival.  Yet so many folks just cut them down with no reason or rhyme.  Think before you pick up that saw.  Do you really need to cut that tree down?

                                     

Here's a beautiful poem titled "Trees" by Joyce Kilmer.

I think that I shall never see a poem lovely as a tree.

A tree whose hungry mouth is prest against the earth's sweet flowing breast;

A tree that looks at God all day, and lifts her leafy arms to pray;

A tree that may in Summer wear a nest of robins in her hair;

Upon whose bosom snow has lain' who intimately lives with rain.

Poems are made by fools like me, but only God can make a tree.

Now I have a card to put out for the mailman to pick up.  Then I'm off to do some blog reading.  So, till next time, Y'all stay safe and have a fantabulous day.

Hugs, Edna B.