Harbor Pilots

Morning Cadre. You're catching me mid scarf tying. What do you think this is? An old scarf, A silk one. A favorite. My name is Kathy Joy and my Cadre handle is Speak Wonder. And I love to come on the Cadre on Thursday, caregiver day, to talk about harbor pilots and how we guide each other safely to the shore. So this morning, earlier. Hi, Luke. Hi everybody. Guten Morgan. Yes, I wonder if you could put in the chat where you had Christmas. Some people stayed in their hometown and you can mention that too, in the name of your hometown or if you visited or if you're still visiting away from your home territory.

It's just kind of a neat conversation piece. Good morning, Jules, from the walking track in North Dakota. Good for you. Excellent. We are getting a rare splash of blue sky and sunshine, which has heightened my mood considerably. Not that I was sad, sad. But I do sometimes succumb to the dreary dark and cloudy days that hover over Lake Erie, even though the lake itself is a glistening jewel of beauty in any weather. It's so nice when the sun's shining on it. And today the sun is so JC, about 30 minutes ago, 25 minutes ago or so, he told the Cadre that he's the overture to Speak Wonders Cadre.

So thank you for lifting the curtain for me and introducing me to the group. For those who are new or those who are standard, standard check ins every day. I got really excited when JC talked about putting cloves in oranges as a Christmas tradition for some. And it is something I grew up in. In fact, I think I earned a Girl Scout badge, maybe in the brownies for crafts when I stuck a whole bunch of whole clothes into a small orange. And then we used a sewing needle, I believe to anchor a piece of yarn into the fruit and we hung it on the Christmas tree or anywhere in your house for an air freshener.

Really cool. It's a tradition that I carried into my family when I married and had my kids. And they still remember that we haven't done it for a few years because now they have kids of their own and they have new traditions and that's just fine. During JC's live, Ms. Shannon Paul chimed in and you'll see her later today on the Cadre comedy through the chaos. And she said, comedy is the fancy crackers of life's pate. I love that. I love that you guys are just quotable, quotable, quotable. I would like to share with you Winter Whispers.

It's a book I wrote and I'M just going to plunge right in. I'm not doing shameless self promotion. Although if you want to buy my book, I can let you know how what I'm doing is sharing some thoughts and memories with you and Winter Whispers is my favorite of my four season books, I do believe, probably because it was the last one I wrote and it captures so many images of this season. Wait. This sun is so beautifully reflective that it's causing a glare on my screen. But I shall proceed y'all. So here we go.

Winter Whispers I'm going to use the inside cover. I'm going to read the dedication and then I'll go ahead. I'm going to read the book to you and show you some of the images because I don't have probably enough Cadre time to give you all of the pictures. Dedication Winter Whispers to my growing tribe of widows we find ourselves in winter a little more snuggled down with memories. Our bond is unspoken yet known. It's in the stillness of this season that we can hear the whispering, the hush, the comfort.

These are celebrations in winter, catching a scent that carries a memory, Intelligent conversation and smokestacks autographing the winter sky. Also twinkling orbs of light below having strength for today and bright hope for tomorrow. When heaven sings and earth replies. Echoes of mercy, whispers of love. Dreaming of traveling on a stay in day, climbing in and hunkering down and opening treasure boxes of memories to savor. Finding cash in a coach pocket, finding resolve in a discouraged spirit and discovering music and the pain of confession.

Hey Luke, love the scarf. Thank you. Celebrating the victory of an honest day's labor making a safe harbor and a hard hat zone for plummeting. Puns in the office do you have a punster in your office? They're a lot of fun. Those who come to work with honed skills but who have not left their hearts at home. Curious and expectant travelers being at peace in a silent room, a rocker in the corner and cats gazing through sun splashed windows steady in the east, one bright star announcing Emmanuel, God with us.

The honesty of trees in winter, how the limbs know how to let things go and how we turn over the broken bits to discover hope. A living crush, a dying wish, a watchful caring and stepping out of the maybes into the certainties. A hope deferred, an empty chair, a weary soldier, a solitary meal, a whisper of snow, a hint of pine and the hard working blend of burnt toast, dark coffee and a hint of possibility in the morning air. Returning home to brown paper packages tied up with strings, the warmth of sunlight, the pull of home and the wistfulness of flight hemming up the memories you keep tripping over, joining the fabric of past and future with a good strong thread, hoping an unseen skillful hand is stitching in the finishing work.

Work. Christmas is a collision and a kaleidoscope, a collage and a movable feast. An awkward hello and a tearful goodbye. A drink from the cup of forgiveness even when the dregs are bitter. Pomegranate seeds on cheese, cooking cranberries, nature's Pop Rocks friends who keep rolling up their sleeves and people who bring their own bright flair to an otherwise monotonous task. An air of expectancy, the handwriting of someone you love and one small gracious act that multiplies beach bum thoughts on a January morning.

Borrowing rich memories during lean times and knowing someone has your back. A childlike curiosity jumping on bubble wrap, finding goodwill for another's joy and knowing spring is stirring just beneath the surface. Argyle socks, fleece blankets, box fugues and dog eared volumes of poetry when the holiday table morphs into the dreaded paper melee of annual accounting. An unplanned adventure, an unexpected answer, an unhurried day. Street lights winking through the fog, church steeples tickling the sky's underbelly.

Clock towers announcing the hour waiting for answers yet living with the questions and waltzing to the gentle sway of right now. A crackling fireplace, the mystery of candlelight during a power outage a soft radiant sunset, God's benediction a kiss of peppermint, the peel of a bell, a tangle of lights, a shiver of hope in the stillness. Snow falling under a street light time for reflection of promises kept and the whimsy of a winding staircase slogging through the waves to the other side of grief.

A soaked and victorious landing on the shore stepping into the natural euphoria of a pine scented forest. A leaning tree leaning because it's burdened with love. Gratitude, the heart's memory, forgiveness, the heart's struggle joy, the heart's reflex story hour mismatched mittens, soggy boots and wayward scarves. The unexpected thaw not having to stand on tippy toes for the top shelf gifts being God's child, chosen and dearly loved, redeemed and trained for your royal purpose. Everyday joy it not being too late to learn something new and to dare to live fully.

A flutter of chocolate optimism, a froth of whimsy and a flurry of unexpected laughter warming and restorative the anchor of familiar surroundings Deep calm feelings amidst the swirl of uncertainty and falling gently into the safety net of another's prayers and hugs. Quietly browsing a bookstore, asking for your favorite server at the local eatery speaking wonder, colorful afghans worn like a warm hug singing through the shadows in quiet stately courtyards the hope of one bloom, the strength of one song, the comfort of one furry friend waking to the prevailing wind's gusty cantata letting go when it's time and gratefully receiving what's next.

That, my friends, is the Erie bayfront. That's called Centennial Tower. Beautiful lighthouse beckoning boats into harbor on Lake Erie at sunset. That is winter Whispers thank you for indulging me and the pictures and the jiggled up imagery for memories is a gift I hope you enjoyed today. JC said gift giving. He said it in the it's already in the conversation feed if you want to look. It's oh, the way he put it was so beautiful. It stitches together traditions that keep us connected. So gift giving isn't about the gift itself.

It's about the connections we have. And they are beautiful. And I'm glad that I have a connection with you here on the Cadre. Jules, you're welcome. I have errands to run. It's December 26th, Boxing Day to some, particularly the Brits, and I am just going to take a moment to literally bask in the sunshine. My little corgi is over here nearby. She was barking earlier during the feed and she's my solar dog. She's curled up in the sun and I think I shall follow suit before I hop into the fray. May winter whisper to your heart today and throughout this season of waiting, hunkering down, believing and hoping.

Many blessings and thank you for the currents that you put into the world as you go out into your sphere of influence. Bye for now. Ms. Shannon Paul is coming on at three lake time, Eastern standard, and tomorrow is Grief Day and every day on the Cadre has something for you. See you next week.