UNIFIED DESIGN AESTHETIC . . .

That's a phrase that has become sort of a joke between a friend and I, even as we both seriously subscribe to the concept ... and all I have to say is, The New York Times website does not have it.

I thought the new template of their site was driving me crazy just because it was 4:30 in the morning when I looked at it. But no. In the light of real morning, I see that it IS unpleasant to look at. It's too small, too light, too airy. These are stylings I enjoy on sundresses, or stationery prints, or spa brochures. Not on my main news source.

***

WORDS . . .

Have I already mentioned that I am lately beginning to understand the great power of words? After all, God created the world by speaking it forth. He said; we were. Jesus healed most often with words. He commanded, rebuked, comforted with words. He acknowledged that people's words exhibited their heart's faith. And in recent sermons at NHF, I've been hearing a lot of the same thing, injected throughout different types of messages: we must not take words for granted, we must not underestimate their power and their dig, we must use words to build each other up and not to tear each other down.

I've really tried to etch these lessons on my heart, and to carry them with me consciously throughout each waking moment. It's hard. I love words. I love the value of words. I love the different meanings of words, and the impact of inflection, the addition of a facial expression, the punctuation of a grimace or a grin. I love most the old words, the old-fashioned words that no one speaks anymore. I love big words, small words, strong words. I don't like weak words, and wish my brain had a humongous thesaurus built in, because I'm tired of saying sunrises are "pretty." I love reading words, writing words, hearing words spoken or sung, and especially whispered lovingly into my ear.

But I'm facing a difficulty, that I think Mrs.G shares: I find myself increasingly in situations where I don't know how to use my words. All of a sudden, I find myself unable to express in a greeting exactly how happy I am to see someone. All of a sudden, I can't emit the proper heartfelt words to properly accompany a strong and sympathetic hug. All of a sudden, it is difficult to call upon the words of gentle rebuke, to lovingly tell someone not to do something wrong. All of a sudden, I can't convey how thrilled I am, how sad I am, the things I'm thinking about, the heart-things I want to share, the care I want to give. Everything comes out wrong; nothing comes out at all. I am powerless without my words.

I've been told this is because I love words too much ... and I think that statement is partly true. I rebel against triteness and cliche, and so if I think I'm going sound trite or cliched, then I prefer not to speak at all. Unfortunately, this has led me to an awful lot of silence lately.

I wish I could just build a window into my heart and brain -- a little viewing area to which my friends and loved ones can step up and see exactly what I'm thinking and wanting to say. Then they would know precisely, and would not feel -- I hope -- overlooked, unloved, uncared for. And they would understand that my silence is not one of distance or coldness, but a deep, commiserating silence of understanding and true love.

***

IT'S GREY! . . .

And I am thrilled about it. Ranger Jay likes to tease that California is the best -- warm weather all the time, blah blah blah. I love me my warm weather, but I speak no falsehood at all when I say that I prefer the mix. I know me -- I would get bored of constant sunshine and balminess. I would come to underappreciate it. I would wake up one morning, and every morning thereafter, thinking, "well, duh, of COURSE, it's going to be sunny and warm today; what's so special about that?"

The imagined prospect horrifies me.

Days like today are ripe for snuggling, and I will. Days like today are perfect for sips of hot coffee and couches and blankets and long conversations; I'll have me some of those too. Days like today are made for intermittent naps; I'll definitely be indulging. Days like today are designed for slow huddled strolls, ducking into quiet spaces for glimpses of warmth; I'll take me some of that.

Days like today also remind me that I am to rest. I've been doing a lot of resting these past few months, and I am so grateful for the time ... but there's been a lot of stress and activity in there too -- things I've been doing and thinking about that I would not have been able to work through and work with had I been attending to a full-time, outside-the-home job. As per usual, I go and go and go, and it's only when I wake up to a particularly soothing grey blanket of a day do I realize that I need to stop, nap, rest, be given refreshment and rejuvenation.