RDP# Tuesday prompt: CREPUSCULE

ate Middle English: from Latin crepusculum ‘twilight.’


That not-quite-dark but no-longer-light  time of day was Frannie’s favorite time.  She always felt the world slowing down, relaxing after a long day’s work.  Of course, she knew it wasn’t happening all over the world at the same time, but she like to imagine it was.Image result for crepuscular

Especially in the fall, she loved walking home from her bakery  in the late afternoon.  The air was crisp and fresh.  The fall flowers flaunted their colors with no sense of propriety at all. No mosquitos  stealth-bombed her as she walked. The tree toads and crickets had already begun their evening concert.  Smoke from burning leaves scented the air, and Fran loved it.  It took her back to her childhood, and it explained why she came back to her small town after she finished her training and opened her beloved bakery.

As a child, she had loved the tantalizing smells that floated up the stairs to the small apartment she and her mother had shared.  The friendly baker downstairs always sent up some special treat for them to enjoy with their breakfast.  Often, Fran would tuck hers into a small bag and put it in her lunch box or her backpack.

She remembered walking home from her band practice or field hockey or whatever other activity she had enjoyed.  It was during this season of the year, when the sky was turning crepuscular, that she had first dreamed of owning her own bakery.

As she enjoyed her late afternoon walk now, she thought about many things.  Mostly, though, she thought about how thankful she was for the life she lived.  And of course, just as she turned into her own yard, bursting with fall flowers, there were Jordan and her sweet little Benjie, waiting for her and hoping for a cookie, a cupcake, or a doughnut.

What more could a girl ask for?

RDP:  Crepuscule

Daily Prompt: Pride and Joy

(What’s Your most prized Possession?)

I’ve never had an urge to have lots of stuff.  There are some things I would not want to give up:  My piano, my organ, all my knitting and quilting equipment, my music center, my photograph albums.  Of course, my most valuable possession, if you want to call it that, would be my faith in God. Second to that, my husband, children, and grandchildren.They keep me supplied with lots of pride and joy.

I don’t want to write about any of those things, though. What came to mind, as I thought about this topic, is that I’m really proud of my age.  I’m almost 67.  That means I’ve been through all the stages of life except the final one, when I will go to meet my Savior.

In the meantime, I’m very comfortable with my greying hair, saggy baggy skin, facial lines, and turkey wattles.  I just figure that aging isn’t an option;Image it’s not for sissies, but you may as well enjoy it the best you can.  There are lots of good things that come with age.  See, we have to be attractive when we’re young, because we’re so dumb about life (even though we don’t think we are!) that youthful charm is the only thing that attracts people to us!

With age comes  an acceptance that life isn’t perfect, and that’s ok.  With age, if you marry and have children, usually comes a grandchild or two.  That’s well worth waiting for!  And even if you don’t get to be a grandma, you probably have nieces and nephews, or close friends with children whose lives you can enrich.

With age, you get to sit down more, and no one gets upset.  You even get away with outrageous ways of dressing or doing your hair, and people will smile at you. When you’re a teen dressing outrageously, you’re just rebellious.

With age, grannies can enjoy being around handsome, engaging young men without anyone worrying that you’re trying to attract one of them.  You just get to enjoy the fun of a healthy friendship.  In fact, you can be friends with itty bitty children or the very ancient. All the lines that society draws between the generations tend to fade as you age.

No one gets upset if you forget things–even if you forget what you forgot  🙂 Image

People will joke about your failing memory, and offer to go look for your glasses or your hearing aids or your cane. They help you up, they help you down, they offer you their chairs.  See how useful old people are?  We make the young feel invincible!

I find that my grey hair is a great asset to me in my counseling practice. People come into my office and see this greying, round little granny and think, “Well, she’s been around the block a few times.  Maybe she really can help us.”

And of course, everyone likes to make jokes about old people. The Lockhorns have been favorites of mine since I was very young, and had no idea that all the jokes were absolutely true!  Here’s one of my favorites:  Poor Loretta always taking it on the chin.  Every once in a while she gets him good, though, and that makes me happy

 Image“So what is this really about?” you may ask.  Why am I writing about aging as being my pride and joy?   Well, let’s see.

For one thing, I’ve made it this far fairly intact and with a functioning mind and body.  I’ve had a few parts removed and some replaced, but I’m getting along pretty well.  That’s something to be proud of.  I’m still working, and most of the time enjoying myself doing so. I work as an independent contractor, so my hours are mine to choose, and I take off when I need to.  I can still cook, clean, and do my laundry. My husband has taken over the grocery shopping since he retired, and that’s just fine with me.  He’s more willing to spend time shopping for the bargains than I am, and he does a good job.

I no longer feel the need to be involved in every single thing.  Time was, not only was I involved, but I was also usually in charge. Don’t need to do that now. Don’t WANT to do that now.  Don’t need to spend the livelong day planning out everything that needs to be accomplished, then running like made to check everything off my list.

I think my biggest joy is learning contentment.  That doesn’t mean I’m delighted and/or passive about things I don’t agree with; it just means I can go ahead and be content, joyful if you will, in spite of circumstances.  I’ve learned that life is what you make it. As Abraham Lincoln said, most people are just about as happy as they choose to be.  As I age, I’ve chosen contentment more often than I ever did  back in the day.

And as I grow older, I grow closer to heaven. When you’re young, you think more along the lines of all you want to do and experience before you die.  I’m not being morbid at all when I say that I’m ready to go;  it’s just that death holds no dread or fear for me now, and I look forward to seeing the Lord Who has walked with me through these 67 years.  Joy.

Daily Post: When Will I be Loved? Apr14

(Have you dreamt of becoming famous? What would your claim to fame be? Comedy? Acting? Writing? Race car driving? Go!)


One of the nicest things about being old(er) is that you get over yourself!  At least, ideally you get past the delusion that you’re going to be world-famous, and you just settle in to appreciating what you have.


Back in the day, however, before this wonderful place of peace and contentment in which I now live ever existed, I certainly had my dreams of being acknowledged for my incredible talents.  Plural.

Well, maybe not world-famous.

Maybe not even famous in just my own country.

Or state,

Or town.

Family, maybe?

Here’s the truth:  Very few people rise to such a place of fame that they are remembered throughout the annals of history.

So how about the “being loved” part?

My family loves me, at least most of the time.  I have wonderful friends who love me.  I have clients and co-workers who while they may not love me, certainly respect me and appreciate what little wisdom I’ve gained over the years.  I’ve been privileged to touch many lives.  Somed would tell you it wasn’t a very positive touch.  I hope the damage wasn’t permanent, and I hope those people will learn to forgive me where I’ve been wrong.

I work in a profession that tries to adhere to the “do no harm” principle.  It would be good if we could apply that principle across the course of our entire lives.