POST 28/2025 SOUTH HAVEN & PERRIN LAKE, MICHIGAN: “I’m going to fly my kite,” I told a barber in South Haven a few years ago when he asked me what I was going to do next. I did it again last week, not the haircut, just flew our fifty-year-old kite. Sprite by name.
We picked up end-of-season blueberries and Red Haven peaches and a couple books from the used bookstore.
With John and Jan
Later in the week we went for an overnight stay at the home of Jan and John near Sturgis, Michigan. Enjoyed a shrimp boil, on Netflix watched the first-day release of The Thursday Murder Club (splendid), next morning had a tasty breakfast, a walk, a boat ride and afternoon connection with other nieces and nephews–whose family farm goes on the auction block in September.
Goodbyes at the family farm
Keep me reasonably sweet
From the 17th century comes this telling prayer, laced with humility and humor, for God’s help and strength in getting older.
“Lord, thou knowest better than I know myself that I am getting older and will someday be old. Keep me from the fatal habit of thinking I must say something on every subject and on every occasion. Release me from craving to straighten out everybody’s affairs. Make me thoughtful but not moody: helpful but not bossy. With my vast store of wisdom, it seems a pity not to use it all, but thou knowest, Lord, that I want a few friends at the end. The Complete Book of Christian Prayer, (1997).
“Keep my mind free from the recital of endless details; give me wings to get to the point. Seal my lips on my aches and pais. They are increasing and love of rehearsing them is becoming sweeter as the yeasrs go by. I dare not ask for grace enough to enjoy humility and lessening cocksureness when my memory seems to clash with the memories of others. Teach me the glorious lesson that occasionally I may be mistaken.
“Keep me reasonably sweet; I do not want to be a saint–some of them are so hard to live with–but a sour old person is one of the crowning works of the devil. Give me the ability to see good things in unexpected places, and talents in unexpected people. And, give me, O Lord, the grace to tell them so.”
Source unknown
Recent books
The Hillcrest Mennonite Church history book is full of factual and emotional and sad and humorous detail, including the names of a host of people who have and are involved in the congregation’s mission and service over the 60 years.
Both books show how nothing stood still as groups sowed in faith and grew in service.
Secret Language of Dogs informed me that dogs do not see people as humans but as other dogs, we are part of the pack. Body language and tone of voice are two of the secrets of speaking Doglish.
When Cranes Fly South is a novel set in Sweden. Bo is at home, looked after by a home carer team who come for a short time each day. His wife, Fredrika, is in memory care. Bo’s son, Hans, wants to rehome his elkhound Sixten. Bo muses over what’s happened in his life and the diminishing prospects for what’s left. The book is totally engaging, moving, emotion laden. There’s so much for the reader to muse on. Gravity hits home with moments of grace. Highly recommended.
Being sweet, reason enough to keep smiling.
-John
It's About Now 
Blueberries and peaches conjure up a picture of the end of summer. I can still smell the bushels of peaches brought in to Shakespeare this time of year. And after all the canning the jars of peaches, pears, cherries and plums sat on the shelves in the fruit cellar ready for winter’s consumption.
I reserved When the Cranes Fly South. Looking forward to the read. And we will all keep smiling.😃
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The fruit cellar had Macintosh apples Vernon and Katie’s orchard, with all the rest. Yum.
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Very interesting — everything — as always. We also just watched and loved “Thursday Murder Club.”
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Thanks, Steve. So good to see residents of a retirement community showcasing teamwork that solves the crime.
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Thanks, John. Glad you’re not too old to fly a kite!Monty May the God of Wonder be with you, delighting you with the beauty of sunrise and the majesty of sunset, with the song of the bird and the fragrance of the flower. —Maxine Shonk,
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Tug of the sky it is. Plenty in it to keep me physically on the ground, but a source of soaring for the mind.
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