The Backyard Door

FLASH...a moment shared with one you lost

2012-01-19T15:04:00.006-05:00

FLASH.....

the simple tasks of day to day life, click like keys "rat a tat tat" on the keyboard,

steadily keeping time and motion.

One swirl through the door, ...across the floor, ...shuffle, ...stamp,... sway,

one arm loads the washer, while the eyes spy.

Swipe the cloth, wet the sponge, check a face in the mirror.

FLASH.....

Your mind floats to another time, another place, and other soul.

Years have passed, and days have passed since you thought of those lost.

But in an instant, in the middle of the simple tasks of the day,

you are once again, crushed.

Reaching for the door frame you steady yourself as you let your mind take you to that place.

The place that only you can feel.

That place where only you see the colors swirling, making your head bulge,

pounding blood rushing to your memory.

Salt runs in liquid down your face and makes a pool on your chest,

you let go and remember.

You let go, you feel the moment.

You let go......and become genuine.

Alone... you have opened the door to see the soul lost.

FLASH..... you rest.

A NEW BEGINNING and RESOLUTIONS

2012-01-04T08:34:00.004-05:00

A new year always finds me hopeful and full of life with an urgent need to organize. The list in my head goes like this. Wash Walls, Add comforters, Clean Closets, Wash Windows. There is nothing like winter sunlight to demand CLEAN WINDOWS! Repaint, organize tax "stuff", pick new color folders, dust, dust, dust, diet, clean office, iron socks! Yes one year I actually ironed all Steve's socks. I think I was most organized that year. Lastly pick a New Year Resolution.

It is a perfect begining, a fresh start, sparkling and clean. All the remanants from the past year have been put away. (NOT)

My Christmas tree is still standing, never dressed to begin with. Thank goodness for artificial and already lit! At least the neighbors THOUGHT it was decorated when they saw the lights each evening. My folders are still overflowing from 2011, and nothing LOOKS new in the file cabinet. The closets need attention, the windows (some) got washed, I am pondering a paint color, why wash the walls when I can paint! Tax stuff is a demon, dieting is it's cousin, and dusting well that will come again in an hour so why bother.

I now realize, that is why I moved so often. To start fresh and clean! Well, that is not happening this year so as I sit at my desk and see the light bulb that needs changing, a doodle sketch for a card needs creating, and mail that needs tracking, and the travel plans that need completing, and the minutes ticking, and the days passing I realize it is January 3rd and I need to get motivated. My resolution, which by the way I have always kept, has not been made. But perhaps this year I will resolve to take one hour each day to do the mundane so that the mundane will not over run my life into overwhelming mountains of things to do.

Now where is that dust cloth........

THE BARN

2011-12-23T14:29:00.006-05:00

Red barn board and wooden silo bring the structure into harmony with it's surroundings. Oaks and gardens have bent low and look like sad souls. Waiting. A country road with farmland and swamp has transformed into a strangled mess at 6:00 from too many vehicles rushing home. The narrow two lane road is clogged from sets of traffic signals and another blinks in yellow. Just waiting to herald what is to come.

Wooden floors are silenced now, and the scent of potpourri has dissipated. A year, two, three has marked the beginning of the end. The FOR SALE sign has faded and whispers are in the air.PROGRESS! The town that the founding father's Keith, Howard, Hayward, Packard, and Edson new is vanishing. PROGRESS! Widened roads that can no longer be crossed in safety.

His eight year old voice says from the back seat, "remember the farm we went to. You know the one we were sad at because they were closing it?" and I thought a moment and said "You mean Dempsey's Village Barn?" and he said "Yaaaah that's it, where is that farm" and I proceeded to make the turn, and drive out of my way to show him. He chatted and we came upon the familiar structure. I told him the fate of what was to become of the "Barn".

"Excuse me Nunnie he said, what is wrong with those people. Don't we have enough McDonald's already? That is a really dumb thing to do. They should not tear down the Barn and put a parking lot and junk food." Then with deep exasperation and loud exhale I hear....."What are the people who live next door gonna do? Look out their window and see just another lamp pole with a seagull on it? Not very pretty"

Christmas Angel

2011-12-11T11:36:00.007-05:00

We sat by the window so we could watch the hustle and bustle that erupted around the center green. I could still imagine what it would sound like to hear sleigh bells ringing from the harnesses of horses as they pulled their wagons around the streets, but instead the granite water trough was filled with greenery, it's real purpose long outdated. I caught a glimpse of a worn figure, frail and Dickens like as she approached the door. Her black coat and brimmed hat were tattered, and almost engulfed her tiny stature now hunched and withered. She sat at a booth next to ours and removed her gloves. She kept her coat and hat on for warmth, and smiled as she looked our way. "What will you have today sweetheart?" asked the waitress pen ready, and pad in hand. In the sweetest, small, high voice the lady asked, "Well, what are your specials toady dear?" The waitress began to name them, " fried chicken basket, meatloaf dinner, baked haddock..." "oh I love fish, " and then in a whisper she asked "how much is the haddock?" "It is $9.99 replied the waitress "and with a smile still on her face the woman sat back against her seat and sighed, "ohhhhhh, then I would like a cup of chowder and a glass of water, please" as the waitress turned away to place the order I motioned for the waitress to order the baked haddock for the lady.

When the meal arrived at the table it looked even too big for me to eat! The amazement and wonder on the little woman's face was a site to behold. As she raised her tiny hands under her chin she looked like a small child who had just opened their most desired Christmas present on Christmas morning. She squealed in delight and asked quizzically "is this for me?" The waitress nodded yes and then gestured towards us, and proceeded to bring a brown paper bag to the table too. "This is chowder for you to take home, we have made too much today and we don't want to throw it away, will you take it? " and the small little voice chirped "oh my yes, and it isn't even my birthday! Thank you!"

All the patrons looked at one another, three young adults in one booth from the local college, a gruff man at the counter, and my husband and I. Not one of us had a dry eye. We all took note of the moment , for it was a gift of humble joy. We had witnessed something remarkable and tender and we knew it would be with us for the entire season. Thank you little lady for sprinkling the glitter of Christmas in all of our hearts! You are "our" Christmas Angel this year!

LOOKING for DAYDREAMS

2011-12-07T10:56:00.006-05:00

I was a girl of 17 sitting in my history class along side the windows, dreaming of a life and a future that I could not imagine. I never spoke in class, I was shy and would not join in. I sat quietly watching, watching everyone else flirt and cavort before class began. Secretly I loved it, when the boy behind me would cheat off my paper. I hoped in my daydream that maybe one day he would ask me out! Our lives were very different. I was the oldest of five children, with many expectations put upon me. He was the youngest of two, carefree and fun! He opened doors of worlds that were strange to me, and all too exciting! That is how it began.

Oh, to be 17 again. Can that memory still be lingering? All the years of time, and stress, and happiness, are marked on the faces of people as they age, yet the memory can remain as it once was, PROTECTED and PRISTINE! In our memories we can go back to that place where we were young, and we can cavort and flirt with free abandon. Maybe it is a gift to be opened every once and awhile, to hold onto and treasure as we move through the task of aging. For our hearts never age...... for it is in our hearts that we remain forever young.

A little daydream that comes to an end all too abruptly. I pick up the routine, just as it had been a few moments before, when I left to take a journey back. (WINK)

Wrap Your Troubles In Dreams

2011-11-29T14:47:00.007-05:00

PLAY SONG FOR ADDED ENJOYMENT WHILE READING

The crushed stones crunched beneath the shoes of all who walked up the long driveway to the portico. It was a prelude to the excitement that awaited just inside the massive doorway. As each lady was greeted her gloves and wrap were taken. In her hand a glass of bubbly took it's place as she glided effortlessly on the arm of her beloved into the ballroom. The room was ablaze in beautiful sequins and colors of the day, dotted with men in black tuxedos and white shirts and bow ties. The music gaily kept the beat of fox trots, waltzes and jitterbugs! The party had begun and a long night of work was ahead for my father in law.

The Big Band Era was romantic and beautifully adorned even if times were tough. The economy was poor much like it is today. And not too many years after the depression people began to party once more and dress up and have fun. For those who still struggled it meant more work and more money for times when they could be home enjoying their own families.

My father in law was a stand up bass player and you can see him here in this photo. I still think of his hands when I think of him because they were beautiful. Long slender fingers always nimble, would tap out a melody at the kitchen table as he talked of things unrelated to music. It was always a familiar vision and I miss it. He has been gone now for 15 years this past Thanksgiving, and although he is one who does not come to my mind quite as often as my own mother and dear mother in law he has been on my heart this month. Perhaps he has been tapping a song for my heart. It would be so sweet to have a sparring match over politics with him again. Teeeheee how things have changed! I think I will choose instead to think of him keeping the beat for the band to play on, while I dance in my mind to the theme song that closed their local TV show each day, Wrap Your Troubles in Dreams! Enjoy the party!

Thanksgiving Blessings

2011-11-22T18:09:00.003-05:00

As Turkey Day approaches we often reflect on celebrations of years ago especially as we grow older ourselves. We remember those who have gone and watch as new generations play the afternoon football game while we sit back and observe! I just wish all of you a wonderful memory of this year's feast to last in your hearts. Take a minute to listen to the little one's Thanksgiving message, between their running and hollering. Here is an anecdote that will be forgotten unless written down so, I am writing here.

My 4 year old grand daughter colored a picture in school today of a Pilgrim and Native American Indian sharing a feast in Plymouth, MA! She proudly ran to her older brother's side as he returned from school shouting, "Colin look what I made you at school, it is a picture of the United American sharing a feast with a Plymouth!"

Alright a lesson in her Pilgrim heritage is in order, but I could not resist sharing her innocent confusion! Happy Thanksgiving everyone!

Record Players....can you invision iPods?

2011-11-08T13:54:00.001-05:00

When I was a young teenaged girl things were a lot stricter than they are now. Wow! I type those words and my mind remembers well how "rebellious" I felt in 1969 and yet my mind's EYE today realizes just how long ago that was. I was wearing mini skirts, and teasing my hair but I could not go to the Armory for Friday night dances or date. I was envious of my friends from school who could do all of that, and I dreamed of getting a record player in a few weeks for Christmas. The Beatles were a phenom and Paul Revere and the Raiders were groovy! Sure enough my dreams that Christmas did come true and I got a record player to share with my sister just 2 years younger than me. It looked like a suitcase and it was green and sat on our bureau. It was the greatest gift ever!!!! I remember being excited to open the flat square undeniably awesome records too! I remember my quizzical reaction when I opened the two albums. Connie Francis and Herb Alpert's Tijauna Brass WHIPPED CREAM!!!!???? REALLY???!!! Well, it wasn't long before I saved my weekly babysitting money, pay my room and board and take the rest to buy 45's. Eventually I saved enough to buy a couple of albums somewhere in the middle of Andy Williams and the Beatles. Yup, my parents and I compromised, and Tommy Roe became my heart throb and I snuck in The Doors a few months later. You just have to laugh! Did you?~Donna

Altzheimers

2011-11-05T09:00:00.003-04:00

Daniel Waldo Field ...that is a name better recognized as D.W. Field Park in my generation and generations younger than me. Growing up in this area in Massachusetts it is where we would go for a break in daily routine to feed the ducks or ride a bike or take pictures and many of us stole a first kiss there! It was a small haven in a city where beauty could be enjoyed. That is what I knew of D.W. Field. That was until I moved into my neighborhood 12 years ago in a city not particularly known for beauty. However, when I saw the Arts and Crafts Bungalow that I live in now I knew it felt like home and even with the stigma of living here I was happy.
The first person I met was my next door neighbor. She was friendly, well dressed, articulate and chatty! She treated us like neighbors used to be treated! Like it used to be way back when I was a child. She brought me home baked goodies, shared her key, and sent us flowers from the local florist for every holiday and special occasion. She taught me how to support local vendors and proprietors. She taught me how to grow African Violets and she told me over and over the stories of D.W. Field. He was the city's gentle benefactor and even though he would be over 150 yrs old today she made him come alive for me. Her favorite story was how "uncle Dan' as she called him came to her birthday party on the 4th of July and how he enjoyed the children's amateur play performances in the back yard. Her favorite time was when he came dressed to the nines and invited all the children to hop into his shiny chauffeur driven car to take a ride to the ice cream stand! He was a wealthy man with time for the simpler things in life. She made life in those days colorful for me to see, so that I could tuck them away in my own mind. Like I will tuck her away in my mind.
Today, she is moving. The moving van is in the street taking precious antique wooden items and a bed and a television. She will be comforted by those things, or at least that is the hope, in the days ahead. Her stories have receded into her memory perhaps never to be told again, but a couple are safe with me. It is not a happy move for her. She is filled with angst and apprehension and fear and defiance. It is not a happy move for me. I will miss my polite and well mannered neighbor, I may never have that again. I know she will forget me, and her home, and her story of "uncle Dan" but I will always remember her and she will not be lost. Peace dear neighbor......goodbye.

RYAN

2011-10-10T17:59:00.006-04:00

It was summer. I glanced up from the sink full of dishes, down past the emerald green lawn, through the gate of the straight picket fence, and into the magical area of woodlands, briars, and wetlands beyond. It was there that three boys sought after woodchucks and frogs. It was there that they fabricated spears and guns. It was there they drew each other close and shared secrets. Forts and club houses were built where eyes could not pierce their hiding spots. Those were the boyhood charms of being nine and ten and eleven.

Life continued and time ticked by as they became 30 and 31 and 32. Grown men of beauty and strength. Each on a different road but all still as perfect as when they were small. Blushed cheeks now bronzed, soft chins chiseled and straw hair receeding. Wonderful men doing what they dreamed to do, all those days long ago.

Until this week. This week a dream was dashed and scattered. The hopes for some are gone, the pain of being an adult finally reconned with. Two boys, with two memories, to hold the heart of one now departed into the recesses of a hidden secret place where no eyes will peer.

For me I have been here before, full of shock and disbelief. That all too familiar ache that is rare but still recognizable fills my chest. For them it is raw and they are oozing with grief. Reality has yet to take hold and shock cushions the blow, until the heart and mind catch up with one another.

Memories will ebb and flow as the body compensates for the assault. Time will mark the significance and tears will wash away the hurt. The fact is, life has changed forever, once again. That small tow haired boy with the impish smile and sparkling eyes now grown, will be forever in the hearts of those who love him still. He is imprinted upon souls and thus remains a part of each one he touched. Now it is time to sleep. Peaceful, comforting sleep.

Hip Hip Hooray, Hip Hip hooray, Hip Hip Hooray......Alfalfa Farm!!!!

2011-09-06T21:42:00.006-04:00

As we pulled onto the dirt roadway we were enveloped with low hanging branches. The narrow roadway dipped into ravines that I was not too excited about. As we got deeper and deeper into the woods the thoughts of a bed and breakfast to my liking, were fast disipating. Each bend just brought us further to nowhere. Then, the rays of sunlight shone down and a clearing came into view with a long white fence and meadows and orchards and gardens and a river. There at the end of the woods sat the most beautiful turn of the century home stately clothed in seaworn gray and pristine white cuffs and collars. We pulled around the crushed stone drive and parked. Approaching the porch was like going home to somewhere you had never known you missed. The squeak on the door hinge announced our arrival and we were met in the dining room by Harriet. The scents, and sights and sounds were too much to take in all at one time. While I was trying to ask about accomodations I felt like I was outside my body trying to grasp it all. In three weeks time we would return with more than a dozen family members for a vacation which changed all of our lives.

It has been 23 years since that time and I no longer have small children, or a mother. However, I do have the opportunity to relive the excitement as I am given minute by minute details of a trip now taken for the first time via facebook and cell phones, by one of my little ones as an adult. He blessed me with things I cannot put into words today. I feel like a mother of a boy once again. I thought he was gone.....and I was so wrong. That little boy who spent hours searching for golf balls at low tide returned to me in his excitement as he saluted Alfalfa Farm, as he rounded the bend to George Bush's summer house, as he ate lunch at Flo's hotdog stand and finally relaxed in the Balcony Room at Bufflehead Cove Inn . He shared it all on his phone via facebook. The memory makers of 1987 came full circle as he made a memory for me today. How silly of me to be so sentimental. How silly of me to be crying happy tears. How silly of me to be so happy that the memories I tried to create have come full circle and are now being shared with his wife. I have been shown how much they meant to a little boy. Now I know they were saved and are being relived. How silly......

There was no facebook then, no cell phone cameras then, but today we all shared the moment together. The best part was when I visited facebook and heard my daughter's excitement as she experiences her first Safari in Kenya! Or when I read all the comments from my nieces and nephews who had seen the Bed and Breakfast pictures, and remarked on those memories of 1987 too! They all remembered and treasured the memories. A new time, a new excitement for them as adults, and a new chapter. One story fades as another comes into the light! I was given a gift today to see the fruits of what it meant to be a mom who made memories for her children! That is a rare jewel. How exciting!

LABOR PAINS

2011-09-05T13:56:00.009-04:00

When I was growing up Labor Day heralded the last day of summer! Even though the season did not change, our minds did. Labor Day was celebrated by watching the Jerry Lewis MDS telethon or at least hearing it run all day in the background of what ever festivities were going on. There would usually be one last jaunt to Duxbury Beach, or maybe a Family Reunion of all the relatives we only saw once a year, or maybe just a cookout in the back yard. We held on to the last rays of sunlight before we called it a day, because it would be just two short days before we were walking the hardwood floors in our new classrooms!
In the 70's the Blue Laws were repealed in Massachusetts and that meant stores could be open on Sundays and Holidays. We thought it was so "groovy" then, but I realize now, that is when the way of life as we had known it changed. No longer did you travel to relatives to spend the day lazing around on a Sunday afternoon, after a full Sunday Dinner, after services at Church. Life became unpredictable when the stores opened. You didn't have to plan for your day on Sunday, if you forgot something, or needed something, or were bored, you could go shopping.
Today things have changed some more. I am alone on Labor Day this year, while my husband creates his awesome, all encompassing, perfect Fantasy Football Team. My son and daughter in law can not rest today either, for they need to have their store open. My daughter has left her family behind and is flying somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean on her way to Kenya. Today, Labor Day, there are no coals on the barbecue.
As I look back on today and compare it to other Labor Days it fizzles to unmemorable. Except for this...
We left early to go to my son's shop to pick up two dozen cupcakes for his Fantasy League Gala, and after chatting for over 45 minutes my son says nonchalantly "oh did you see the seagull in the road?" Now, he is on the ocean so I thought the seagull had met with some dire misfortune, when he said again "No really he is just laying in the road". I ran out to see what in heavens name he was talking about when I came upon the bird. He was straining to lift his head up off the pavement as he lay on his back unable to move anything but his neck. He was scared and could not be lifted without the chance of being severely bitten. So I panicked for someone to help. Finally, my husband went to retrieve a box for him. As I waited I looked at him and he looked at me. We looked at each other and held the look straight into our pupils. Right then I felt like I had seen the real Jonathan Livingston Seagull. It was heart wrenching to say the least. We were able to scoop him into the box and he was stable on his chest. I placed him in a shaded alcove and there we left him.
We went back to the store and to my dismay I learned, that bird had been laying on his back for 4 hours. NO ONE helped him. I know it is just a bird but really. No ONE? I was in tears and angry at my son. Even though I realized that he had a job to do, I was still disappointed. Finally an officer from the Animal Control division came and took the bird away. Hopefully he will be able to recover, he actually ate a cupcake so he can't be all that badly injured. Right? I guess my point is this. Time has gotten away from us. The little things that mean the most to those who need a helping hand are brushed aside while we are busy doing "stuff". Will it all matter in the end? I am not sure but, I know we need to slow down to see what is important to our souls. I hope that my daughter will find spiritual wealth in her journey to Kenya, when she visits some orphanages, and I hope my example of helping that bird will soften the hardened heart of my young male heir. I pray that someday we will all have some common sense to realize convenience isn't always healthy for life, and that slowing down may be the cure for what hurts us! Happy Labor Day.

The Prayer

2011-08-23T21:44:00.003-04:00

It is night. It is 10:00 pm. It is quiet.

My pajamas are tangled around my legs, and my legs are tangled around the sheets. My sister sleeps in the bed across the room and I can here Perry Mason on the tv down the hall. I suck my thumb and toss and turn and crunch my pillow under my head but sleep does not come.

The light seems brighter than usual and it sneaks under my lashes to open my eyes. The tossing begins again and then the crunching of my pillow and the wrestling of the sheets. Then I recognize the anguish inside my little head. I am worried. I am worried about dying. I am seven and I am worried. "now I lay me down to sleep I pray the Lord my soul to keep, if I should die before I wake I pray the Lord my sould to take." How is it that young children said this prayer before bed. It still haunts me. Every night in my early years growing up we would say this prayer before lights went out. I cannot image why.

As I toss occassionaly now, I think of that particular night long ago and wonder why I am tangled once again in the sheets, and how the pillow does not comfort my head to sleep. Then I realize I am worried again. How many years have passed and yet the night is still the same when we are alone with our own thoughts. My prayer is different now. My prayers are comforting. I pray and sleep surrounds my thoughts and the worries are gone.

Summer Naps

2011-08-04T15:39:00.007-04:00

With reservation in her voiceThe weather girl reports "...it feels almost fallish" and I stopped to observe outside my window and realized, it did! It was a great reprieve from the heat we had over the weekend. The humidity was gone and the breeze was refreshing. Not quite like late September but you could tell summer was dreaming for other hemisheres!

Now, because I have lived in New England all my life, I know the cycle of weather here. So, I know that the humidity will return in a few days and summer will be in gear for a few more weeks, but today was a signal of the change to come.

I had been up early as usual, but I had some freedom to play. Nothing was on my schedule so I did just that. In fact, I made these two digital scrap book pages that are posted here. Only number 2 and 3 that I have ever tried, after all they are digital! I kind of like them! The morning drifted into afternoon and the sun came around to my office telling me it was late. What a wonderful day to take a nap on my porch, and as I walk towards the door I grabbed a soft pillow from the chair for I knew my neck would have a crook in it when I awoke if I did not. Then, the thought of becoming chilled once my eyes shut, caused me to pull a knitted coverlet from it's hiding place in my window seat. That is when it all grabbed me. Unexpectedly in a rush of emotion I pushed the knitted wool into my face and took deep breaths. It was Nonnie! My dear sweet mother in law Jennie. She had made the coverlet as one of the last things on her list to do before she died. It was for my son, but I loved it's colors so I hadn't given it to him yet. I was sad, I missed her and felt her loss again after three years. It always amazes me how I can go for months and not think of her, and then one single touch of wool will pull my heart right into a tizzy! I didn't take my nap but, sat instead on my porch and thought of her. How wonderful and unassuming she was to me, her daughter in law. How she was a comfort when my own mother died and how she taught me with simplicity of what it is to be a mother of grown children. I treasure the moments she gave me on my porch on the ocean, while she waited for me to awaken one day from a nap. Today, I sit on my porch in the city and still feel her near and reflect on all that she taught me.

August signals that a change of seasons is on the horizon, it also brings with it the best moments of summer. Past and Present!

Rolling Buttercup

2011-07-25T15:53:00.004-04:00

Each season brings with it special memories of things you treasured long ago. It may be a wind, a sound of a cricket, the smell of freshly mowed grass or millions of other triggers. Sometimes it completely catches you off guard other times it is a friendly reminder that triggers the same memory year after year and most often elicits a smile or moment that catapults you into a daydream that lasts for minutes!

The Buttercup that sprouts in early summer reminds me over and over again of one event in particular.

The hill next door looms large and beacons us to come play. Our shorts are freshly ironed sear sucker stripe. Shirts, sleeveless and button down the back, skim our midriff. Freshly tied bows of powder blue and yellow, hide the rubber bands that hold our mini pony tails over our corn silk, shoulder length hair. One band aid, banners the ill fated knee. Lastly, ruffled socks neatly fold in half just above the edge of our red Keds.

We live on the second floor of a Arts and Crafts Four Square home converted into a two family.

So we bound down the stairs, careful not to run our hand two quickly down the banister, for we have felt splinters impale our palms and fingers all too often. As we reach the bottom landing we glance quickly to note whether or not the hook and eye has been left unlocked so we can keep the pace and freely push the swinging door wide open to let us out to the porch. Never missing a step we hit the concrete walk and make a sharp right to the grass and fly free out beyond our property line to the HILL. It is bathed in full sunlight except for the area close to the granite rock foundation! We rest leaning against the cool rocks just for a moment to catch our breath. Lungs renewed, we begin our race! Rolling and rolling, faster and faster, full body down that hill. Over and over we roll down that hill until, at last we stop. We stop in unison to pick the one lone Buttercup, that begins a whole new game!

Do you remember the silly games that are forever held sacred in your childhood mind? Have you returned to your childhood play spaces only to find those HILLS not much bigger than inclines!!!!! How fabulous is it to remember those times only in your mind, where the hills are bigger, the grass is greener and the Buttercups ever more magical !

Summers Morning Symphony

2011-07-13T07:40:00.004-04:00

The evening was sultry and uncomfortable to be outside. I remember long before air conditioning became commonplace what it felt like to try and sleep on nights that were still and heavy with humidity. I still do not have central air but the window units provide some relief and allow for a peaceful rest. The hum and vibration of those units disturb my early morning slumber and I awaken once more before my household begins to stir.

My early morning routine is completed before my husband bids me a good day. He slips into his car and drives away. I take my cup of coffee and open the door to the veranda where the cooler morning air greets me with an unexpected freshness. The air mass has changed and although warm it is less humid then the night preceding it. I nestle into my overstuffed wicker chair and grab a Coastal Living Magazine to be whisked off to a seashore adventure. My mind drifts with the pictures, and the smell of summer is real. It whispers for me. Then I am brought back in the moment of hearing and smelling and seeing all that is around me. A symphony has exploded and I realize it is in surround sound. Everywhere from every perspective my senses are awake. Robins, grackles ,sparrows, wrens, blue jays, cardinals all singing in harmony...broken with the tingle of katydid, and the soft whir of bumble bees, and the splashing of feathered wings in the bird bath. It is a perfect summer morning right here. I look at the windows of my neighbors homes still shut and clothed in heavy shades. Unaware of the magic happening right outside. I am so glad I didn't miss it! I spy a rainbow in my sprinkler mist, and the light breeze lifts my bangs so the sense of touch can be awakened too! It is all good. The chores of the day can wait for one more minute as I relish one more perfect summer morning in my life. The textures and nuances will be added to my other summer memories to be dreamed off on a day long away!

MONDAY MORNING

2011-06-27T07:06:00.005-04:00

The day was fresh and as I lay in bed I could watch the sun move across the facade of my neighbors shed. I lay quietly as I watched time move. It was one of those kinds of mornings when you awake earlier than usual and really refreshed. There is no desire to linger in bed for 10 more minutes, instead you rise to meet the day with a smile and anticipation. Your body moves without pain and everything seems right with the world.

I get dressed and start my morning routine by first reading scripture. After 18 months of daily reading I am in the book of John and it is lovely. Christ has come alive for me and reveals gentleness and love for others. It inspires me to be better. Next, I move on to emails and my favorite blogs and finally I grab a cup of coffee.

Now, I am a girl who although I am a decent cook I DO NOT COOK. I am a little strange in the respect of food in my house. I do not like my house to smell like food therefore I DO NOT COOK! So, that means I need to go to my local coffee shop ie. Dunkies for my first cup in the morning. I bound out the door and say goodbye to hubby who is looking over his pristinely cut lawn from yesterday and wave goodbye to him as I bound out the driveway. It is a good MONDAY morning!

While I sit in line at the drive through my mind wanders and I realize that I am preoccupied about how I will greet my server at the window and begin to rehearse what I might say. I am cheery and want her day to be too! SO I play in my head the words "you have a greeeeaaat day Missy", nah that sounds a little condescending even if it is not meant to be. Okay try this "I hope you have a day full of fun today!" ...Really(**(^&*^%$ she is at work! Then I practice, "I hope you have a great day sweetie" after all sweetie is kind and friendly and not too familiar...ahh forget it I'll just say thank you and have a good day......as I get to the window I am greeted by a young girl who is probably at her summer job. Before I can say 'have a good day" she looks at me straight in the eye and says "you have a great day sweetie".......I drove away, smiling ear to ear.

Have you ever heard the affirmative whispers of God's delight and caught His humor?

2011-06-10T16:44:00.004-04:00

Funny how creativity takes you in areas that consumes your time. Then at some point you look out beyond that place of focus, and you begin to panic for what has been left undone. I have been in a creative zone that has been all engulfing and I have left this blog undone for much too long. The weather has changed from minute to minute and been so erratic lately that I cannot even delve into that subject. I look at the sentry mushrooms of last year and have hardly given them a nonchalant glance this season. My iris need dividing, and my impatients have needed water for a week now, each day I wished for rain because I couldn't find a minute to give them a drink.

Time is moving at a fast pace and just when I think I have a handle on it I have lost five hours because of a glitch in some technology. ARGH!!!Well, I was able to savor a moment this week when my grandson called me to apologize for his attitude towards me. WHAT APOLOGIZE!!!!! He never has to apologize! That was my first reaction, as I said "oh sweetheart you don't...and before I could get the ..."need to apologize" out of my mouth, my mind switched to practicality and I realized his mom was trying to teach him something. I immediately back pedaled with grandmotherly affection and I told him he was doing the right thing. I was glad that he was sorry, but I was not angry with him. It broke my heart for him to have to say he was sorry. After all he was just being honest. It went down like this.

After speaking with my daughter for a few minutes I asked to speak to Colin who was playing Wii. In the background I heard grumbling and then I heard .."alright just give me the phone so I can get it over with" ....oh my it sounds worse in print then it did when I heard it. It was the first time I felt what it was like to be a pesky grandmother. My little guy was growing up and didn't "love" me like he used to! He spoke to me with hurried answers and I knew he wanted to get back to his game. SO, I said goodbye, and hung up the phone so he wouldn't begrudge the intrusion any longer. Ten minutes later is when I received his phone call to me. I guess his attitude didn't sit well with his mother. (wink)

It made me think of time passing by and leaving us in the dust. One day he will be a teenager and have more important things to attend. I think it is time to slow down and savor some more moments!

May Processions

2011-05-23T12:29:00.006-04:00

In September 1959, 52 little babies came together and bonded into a family. Over the next eight years we trembled, and cried, and had accidents, and tested boundaries, and laughed, and grew, and rejoiced and practiced ceremonies that would last as memories throughout our lifetime. No matter how we changed, our roots ran deep. No matter how many times we searched for new meaning, our roots ran deep. No matter how many times we questioned, we remained faithful. Faithful to ourselves, faithful to each other and faithful to what we had learned even when we did not know it.

We are the St. Mary's Fairies. We became known as that when out parochial school took on the religious education for the Catholic children in the town. Although it would not be allowed now, the children in public school came to our parochial school on Friday afternoons and were taught religious education by the Sisters of Saint Joseph. Of course, we got to go home for the afternoon on Fridays and took great pleasure in that. However, as we crossed in front of the public schools on our walk home, we were taunted with shouts of "Saint Mary's Fairie's" . We learned to use those words as a banner of endearment amongst ourselves and would not want to be called anything less!

This weekend, 10 of us got together on Cape Cod and enjoyed story telling, a few fresh antics, some lovely talk, picture taking and eating. Oh yes we ate and ate until we could eat no more then we ate again! Our handsome, lifelong friend, family member undertaker was in charge of picture taking, and although he was a "pfk" (public school kid) we dubbed him honorary fairy! His wife was Queen of the May!

The weekend ended with a May Procession. I can't tell you why it happened, but it did and it was just as we had remembered it to be. Our voices weren't as angelic, our faces neither for that matter, and we weren't as agile and fluid as we once were, but our hearts were more reverent. We were rooted in what we knew and after 52 years, we were commemorating what we had done for the first time all those years ago.

52 years, 52 children, 52 hearts remembered by 10 old ladies who were young .....once more.

HELLO MAY!

2011-05-16T08:38:00.003-04:00

Hello May!

Soft spring grass wet with dew spatter drops of water on shiny shoes. Soft breezes that tickle the skin on upper arms with goose bumps make a sensory memory. Sunshine, warm against a face that looks up to the puffy white clouds sketched behind whispy blown bangs. Butter cups and dandelions bright as gold in pink fists.These are the memories of a child forever etched in canyon crevices throughout time to be gently recalled each season.

MAY is like no other month. I used to think it was just because it was my birthday month that it was special, but as I read from blogs around the country I realize it is transends a birthday, it is universally loved. Like the dreams that spring forth in new array to be lifted in hope, May brings the puffs of dandelions to be raise high and blown out across the universe by puckered lips. They never know what the future holds but are filled with faith that it will be wonderful.

Like the lilacs, the scents of May envelope each cell to hold forever the wonder of new life.

May is the season of children, and for the search of the child that lives in each of us. A time to be drawn out to play in the memories of simple life and the pure joy of innocence.

"MAY" The word itself evokes a smile and can be the catalyst for good deeds and care. I am busy in May. Busy with delights that do not come at any other time of the year. Busy with the newness of gardening, busy with the freshness of spring recipes, and busy with fun. Busy with adventures. The "fairies" and I will be enjoying a weekend on Cape Cod, and then my month will end on Memorial Day with a trip to Kennebunkport, Maine. There memories of family treasures and sadness remain, in contemplative quiet wathing over Bufflehead Ducks and listening to interludes of flute and violin, in front of a crackling fire.

Oh May!!!! Bring flowers of the fairest and joys of the rarest to cradle me in the sweetness of your arms. You are gone all so quickly.

*Fairies are my classmates that I went to first grade with. After more than 50 years there are still of dozen of us who stay in touch to play! We will be sharing that time again this weekend!

Happy Birthday to me!

2011-05-06T09:02:00.005-04:00

This is a picture of my mom at the age she was when I was born. Thanks Mom!

Today is my birthday! I will celebrate "me" alone. I will do a job in my office, that I need to finish in the next hour and then I will take a ride to the ocean, have lunch, revel in the warmth of a beautiful spring day, meditate and be glad for the time I share with myself. Maybe I will buy a bauble!!!!! Then I will think Happy Birthday to me!!!!!! (wink)

I will always believe in Fairytales!

2011-04-29T11:59:00.002-04:00

I turned down the covers and walked into the closet to fetch my nightgown, it had been a long evening and I was quite tired. It was going to feel good to get to bed and I was already thinking of what I would dream about. As usual I popped on the television for light as I turned out the closet illumination and immediately knew that what I was hearing was serious. "Diana Princess of Wales has been seriously injured in a motor accident in Paris and her companion Dodi El Fayad has died." ...that time in 1997 has remained emprinted in my mind along with all the images of a beautiful young princess as she walked down the aisle at Westminster Abby. For most of us it was the wedding of Charles and Diana that caused us to be enamoured with royalty. After her death Daina became immortalized and we looked upon her as a heroin for many reasons. We almost didn't think anyone could over sahdow her, but today for me that has happened. Today, Catherine Elizabeth Middleton has become a Duchess and the betrothed to William. It was with great anticipation that I awoke at 4:30 to begin the watch! I was NOT disappointed. When Kate immerged from the Bently her personna was graceful, elegant, and regal! I hope you got to watch as she delighted all of us who still believe in fairytales!

HAPPY EASTER

2011-04-24T01:56:00.000-04:00

Tiny slender ribbed glasses filled with tomato juice and grilled english muffins with packets of jelly, patent leather shoes, straw hats, pink, blue, lavender.... THE STOUGHTON DINER. Home fries, new babies, boyfriends, girlfriends, Ilda, trench coats, bell bottoms, wedge heels, .....BICKFORD'S. Photo albums, more babies, toddlers, children, clowns, table linens, husbands, wives, navy, and suits, and lace, and heels......The Sheraton's and Thorny Lea.......

Rain, Snow, Summer, Chill it didn't matter every year on Easter Sunday Morning we went out for breakfast after Mass. Even on the Easter Sunday, the day before my mom passed away we went as a family to breakfast because we knew the importance of the tradition. As I think back I cannot remember a single year that we did not make the traditional feast in a Restaurant or Hotel. Yes, there were some years when all the members could not attend like when a soon to be baby had their mom on bed rest, or when some fledglings had moved away to another state, but for the most part everyone was in the nest and accounted for.

Easter Sunday Breakfast will be a new experience for us in 2011 for we will not be trekking to a restaurant, or hotel, or country club. We will be joining as a family to celebrate in a different way this time, at my home! The circle continues with a new baby just two weeks old and a patriarch that began this tradition some 50 years ago. He and three small children in tow, at a local diner with ribbed glasses and jelly packs held by little chubby hands began the custom of coming together to share breakfast on Easter Sunday Morning . How special the morning will be as we look back on the years of group portraits to remember where we have been and to wonder where we will go! Happy Easter, be joyful and glad for a new day has been given us!

Spring Renewal

2011-04-18T13:46:00.002-04:00

I don't remember smiling as a child.

The sun was in my eyes and my lace topped white cotton socks had begun to creep into my shoe, but I loved the way the satin ribboned cape felt blowing against my cheek and the way my dressed pouffed out when the breeze caught it's hem. My black pattent leather shoes were shiny from rubbing them with Vaseline and it was May!

Springtime is so enchanting and new. The damp and still cool earth has little tufts of crumbcake mounds from where the robbins have pecked for worms and the squirrels have tried to retrieve left over treasures buried in fall! The sounds of birds and lawnmowers and laughter fill the air awakening it from the winter silence. I let the sun shine on my back now as I start the season of weeding and surveying pods, and seedlings, and buds, and tubers. A new season full of promise and full of smiles.

I don't rememebr smiling as a child, but spring memories make me smile now!

Remembering Mom

2011-04-12T13:48:00.003-04:00

I had planned all year to write something poignant today. It is an anniversary after all. One that still makes me cry after 18 years. On that day in 1993 I was 39 and still young. I had a wonderful husband, and two children 14 and 16 and a beautiful life. Yet on that warm and drizzly day my heart was ripped out at 3:00 pm. Shock set in for protection, and life went on in a robotic sense. The pieces were put together out of either necessity or from memory and we all went through the motions of ceremony. On that day I joined a club and finally knew what it felt like to lose someone important to your being. I felt alone, and I felt abandoned, but I was numb at the same time. For months sadness over ran my days, and then one year came to an end of firsts and then years came to their ends marking milestones never shared. Each one recounting the sadness of the loss of my mother. Today, is the eighteenth year since I have heard her voice or seen her eyes and most of today was not sad, because I have found peace in memories. However, today marks another milestone that makes me think of her. Today her fourth great grandchild was born! Little Ronan has made his debut on a special day for all of us. My little sister has become a grandmother for the first time! Not being able to share that event with her own mother. But the plan of God is always evident in the joy He sends to us. Ronan is a gift of hope and love and joy that rises to the heavens in prayers of delight and happiness. After eighteen years of wondering, God has said He hears us! Happy anniversay to all of our family...today is finally an anniversary we can mark, filled with happiness!

APRIL FOOL'S DAY SNOW!

2011-04-01T08:32:00.004-04:00

What if you NEVER saw snow again?

No I really mean it, what if you never saw it again. What if you didn't get to see the sparkle like diamonds on the day after a big snowfall when it was so cold outside that your eyelashes froze? Or what if you didn't get to see the heavy branches from a wet snow bend all the way to the ground making hiding places for bunnies and birds, and shined like crystal palaces in the quiet of an early sunrise. What if you didn't get to hear the crunch of it under your shoe, or get to taste it with maple syrup or vanilla extract? Or what if you didn't get to pick it up in your bare hand as you wiped it off your windshield on an April morning, because it was warm out and the last flakes of winter had just fallen the night before to say good bye for another season. What if you NEVER saw snow agian? Or anything of nature that you take for granted?

How many small things like the last snow fall go unacclaimed except for the grumbling of "enough all ready!" What if it were the last time you were going to ever see it, would then it be special and worth looking at and relishing?

That is how precious every minute of every day is and yet we go on in the hustle and bustle of life never really thinking about it until one day it is MOMENTOUSLY gone! I hope you don't wait until it is all gone, to realize that all the little moments are worth the same as the big moments, and that by relishing just one of those little moments today your life will be enriched with the simple knowledge that you didn't let it leave unnoticed! Take time to look at that one solitary moment, because it was part of your own unique life!

SEASON OF SPRING REBORN!!!!

2011-03-20T00:42:00.001-04:00

Each year I get giddy when I hear the peepers for the first time! I read once that the evening has to be above 50 degrees for them to mate. It is the same time that the yellow spotted salamander is out and about. They are beautiful and I have only seen one one time when I was a newlywed. Last night the peepers were in full symphony and the night air was gentle and sweet smelling. It was almost hard to believe I still had snow in my driveway. The week has been mild but the winter was long and harsh and has yet to give up it's hold for the season.
But this morning the sky is is bright and the yard is full of the hustle and bustle of squirrels and robins, and bunnies and doves. Life has been renewed! Spring has sprung and we are ready for another season of sowing.
My sedum sentries have been buried for months and not yet poked through the earth but tucked in the crevice of my foundation a stowaway hollyhock has emerged in perfect glory. Veins fresh and unfurled leaves are perky and waiting to leap high in the air to be a spectacle of ruby red this summer! The soul too has been rejuvenated and ready for it's purpose. How wonderful the seasons of life. The spring heralds in rebirth from the rest of winter. Meet it with joy...HAPPY SPRING!!!!!!!!

NEWS

2011-03-15T09:17:00.005-04:00

I watched, Leave It To Beaver, Andy Of Mayberry, I Love Lucy, and Concentration just before theEYEWITNESS NEWS at noon. That was the "sick day" line up for me as I lay on the couch sipping tea. Mom made it just sweet enough and I was pampered! I never changed the channel because the reception would get fuzzy and I couldn't reach the rabbit ears. I felt cozy and safe with no care in the world except would I run out of kleenex? The news only lasted 15 minutes at lunch time, and would not return until 6 hours later! So that is when I ate my lunch to get ready for more shows to keep me entertained until supper time! A thirty minute show was 26 minutes long, with only one or two commercials!

How safe the world was then, when did it all go awry?

I try not to think about it too much because I see that when I do I truly begin to slip into depression. I feel more and more like an ostrich trying to pretend nothing is wrong. I rarely turn the news on these days, because I don't want to know what is happening. In fact, I hadn't heard about the earthquake or tsunami in Japan until the Monday after it happened. As coarse as it may seem my life went on as usual, because I was unaware. I was happy and not depressed. The sun shone, the weather was spring like, the clocks had turned and life was stress free. Was there really anything that I could do in that time that would change the events?

Interesting concept. What did people do in 1511? It was weeks before they got news of what was happening and they were not bombarded with world affairs in which they had no control over. They lived their lives in their communities and helped those around them. They were productive and rewarded in spirit for their contributions to their communities and families.

In a short period of time we have emerged into the world as a "group" one conglomerate, because of MEDIA. Print, television and computers have made the world accessible, but is it a good thing. Do we take on too much in our daily lives. Is it too much for a person to absorb, and was a human created, to be bombarded with news and catastrophe, day after day hour after hour?

The readily available access of news over and over, may actually make us feel more helpless, knowing we have little control over the situations being broadcast. News has gone from 15 minutes three times a day to 24 hours a day, with no let up and very little uplifting information!

I propose you try shutting off your television and computer for a week and you will truly see what I mean. I can almost guarantee that after the intitial shock you will feel more content, free, and in control! What a phenomenon. Perhaps the media is what spawns the unrest and discontent in our homes and in our souls. Gentle voices, smiling faces, happy families portrayed in advertising, sway us into to believing we need more and we need everything to be happy! Hurtful comedy and harsh vocabulary lull us into believing it is okay to be uncivilized and crude. It is a lie. Just how much of it is a lie? Do you have a minute to think about that question, or are you in a rush to be stimulated with yet more NEWS! SOmething that can be washed over you until you are living it. Never thinking about it just absorbing it!

The lessons I learned from Andy, and Lucy and Hugh were to enjoy the everyday moments with family and friends and to be kind to strangers and to have fun at play! I never learned it was important to be worried about the news, and I was never depressed.

Sweet Angel Boy

2011-03-02T14:45:00.003-05:00

I'll forever remember the soft whimper of the newborn I held in my arms. He was not mine but for some reason I knew our hearts would be connected in a way that I thought was special. At that moment I didn't have the inclination how special. He had come into this world after a long and exhausting labor. His whimper changed to sighs as he rested in peace.

Each day I needed to get my fix and I would visit him. He had deep dark chocolate hair that covered his head so perfectly. His eyes were like those of a seal, pools of dark espresso.

He was an aggitated soul, and I remember the race to get him changed each night as an infant so as not to upset him. I had never seen a newborn be so aggitated with having his clothes changed.

As he grew he was astounding. He could do full sit ups at five months that were awesome! I had never seen that either. He was never a baby who would interact with you so it was a challenge at play time. Days went by and months and years and he grew more and more handsome. The kind of soul that takes your breath away when you see him.

Nursery school came and challenges got more difficult. He just didn't measure up to the other children. We were lost with no place to turn. There were no road maps to help us along the way, even when we searched out professionls. So, we stumbled on each and every path trying to decipher our way. He was asked to leave nursery school (he was three)and the next year he went to a second choice. He left there and the next year he went to kindergarten. He was tested, and questions became more difficult for the professionals to answer. He started his third school at age 6 and was still in Kindergarten and finally started first grade this year. He is taller than the other kids and a little less coordinated, and has outbursts and doesn't fit in well. We still have questions, and roads to travel and no answers until today.

This little angel was first diagnosed as being autistic, then on the autism spectrum which entails a wide range of disabilities and weaknesses to a lesser and more confusing degree. I always felt uncomfortable with this diagnosis even though I wanted to find a neat little niche to put him in. He didn't quite fit the parameters because his heart and level of empathy was so broad, and he can put into words that which most adults cannot share. His emotions overflow into the enviroment with reckless abandon both good, as when he comforts an elderly person, or bad as when he lashes out at the littlest infraction upon his personal space.

He is unique. He is a gift. He is special. He is God's plan. He is a lesson for us.

Today the results of his most recent testing came back and we finally have some answers and some resources. Changes will have to be made, but I think we can hope with more assuredness that we are on the right path. Finally, we will be able to support him and let him blossom into the wonderful person he is meant to be. I hope he senses all that we do is for his benefit and will not be stigmatized in any way. His heart is so pure and his reasoning is so complex and right on. We have a lot to learn from him. I am excited to see who he will become. God bless you sweet angel. Your path has finally cleared! (click on this picture and look into those eyes. They belong to a gift from God)

Hearing Test and 1972

2011-02-25T07:50:00.009-05:00

As I walked up the modern stairs in the walnut paneled foyer the smell was familiar, but as I turned the door knob I knew it would be forever changed from that moment on.

The waiting room had a comfortable appeal. Almost brand new, and warmly dressed in colors of rich brown paneling, carpet of red and gold mini squares, and avocado green counter tops. True to the fashion of the late 60's ~70's decor! The antique school clock tick tocked in the corner of the room, and the colonial furnishings brought out a homey feeling. Even today in 2011, when I reflect on that room it is lovely impression. It was in stark contrast to the cold neutral and metallic reception areas of today's dental offices.

It was my first day of work as a Dental Assistant in the orthodontic office of Wil Cohen. It was a summer June day in 1972. I had been a patient there myself at the age of 12, but now I was 19 and ready for a new role in life. I am proud to say we were the ultimate professionals. I was taught early on, that all personal business was left outside when you entered that door way, so it is difficult for me to believe what I see in today's offices. Chit chat behind the desk and texting, wow things have changed. I am proud to have learned the lessons of appropriate behavior in the workplace.

I was the employee of Wilfred Edward Cohen. He was first my orthodontist, then my boss, always my mentor. We were a family. I was naive and very young for 19 and had a sheltered and restrictive life up until then, so I learned a lot from him. He showed me how to be an adult. How to be giving. How to be responsible. How to be smart. How to go after things you didn't think you deserved. How to be appreciated. He gave me validation and pride. He was like a father to me.

Today, some 39 years later a bill sat on my desk to be paid. It was for Steve's hearing test last month. It came without an envelope. I used the computer to retrieve a mailing address for the ENT office. At the top of the webpage, words in Courier Font jumped out at me and stopped me dead in my task. It read: ESTABLISHED in 1972! That is what the first sentence said on their information page! 1972! I was transported. I smelled the familiar scent of that foyer and began to dream of those years long ago, when I would climb the stairs to the second floor to my orthodontic office each morning, and pass the girls going to the otolaryngology office in the same building, on the first floor. I was back in 1972! Neither office exists in that space any longer, but what memories it holds for me. As I lick the flap and smack a stamp above the address to the ENT Specialists, I smile because they will never know the story of the memory they awakened. They will not know the secret inside that envelope when they open it to post the remittance to their accounts. They will never know how special that payment made me feel today.

What I do behind closed doors

2011-02-22T14:53:00.002-05:00

What I do for fun! Sometimes life isn't all so reflective and it is carefree and light. In fact most of my days are like that because I get to create each and everyday. Something that I have enjoyed since I was 5 years old. I can vividly remember a summer day while I was sitting on a rocking chair at my bedroom window. We lived on the second floor and that window looked down onto the street below. THe breeze was gently blowing the curtain against my cheek and I would brush the bangs from my eyes ever so annoyed. Now I look back with a huge smile because it was one of the calmest memories of childhood I have. I also see me sitting with something small in my hands. A piece of jewelry that I had taken apart and redesigned to please my fancy! I chuckle to think of the brand new houses that I have taken apart to "fit my fancy" and all the other things I have redesigned. My mother always said I should have a doll house, because it would be a lot more affordable than redoing all the "real houses" I have redone!
Well, as I get older and older I have fewer redo's to do, and that is where the passion of card making comes forth. SO, I thought I'd share that piece of me with you today. I hope you find a bright moment in your day where you feel peaceful and fulfilled!

NOT A USUAL POST

2011-02-19T17:28:00.004-05:00

Three weeks ago the area that would eventually become a laundry room~Office~TV room~ and utility area, looked like an old half garage, half basement from the 50's. 1953 to be exact, the same year I was born...oh to have a makeover for my tired looking self! LOL!
Anyway hubby and I and Mike (our son) and Katie his wife got to work to create a new space for them in their home. We demolished all the old plaster and wire lathe ceilings, and took down the wall between the old garage and basement. We waterproofed the walls and floors, and added 1" foam core to the walls. Then we studded off the future rooms, and had an electrician wire the area. We then added R19 insulation to all the new walls, and had a plasterer come in to drywall the area. We then hung doors, and added trim, and made new stairs, and bookcases, and closets, and then we painted, and sanded, and stained, and now we wait for the floors to be installed on Monday! WHEW!!!! Then Steve will go back to work (he is a camera salesman..not a carpenter, not bad for a hacker huh?!)Then I will take finished pics for you to see more!
~Donna

HOPE

2011-02-18T15:46:00.003-05:00

AHHHHHHH spring is in the air which means even though it will still be cold and we will probably have more snow before winter is done, there is hope of a brighter tomorrow.....

Hope brings comfort to those in pain and sorrow, hope brings peace for those who wait, hope brings wonder for those who anticipate. HOPE. How strong a word how strong an emotion.

Today, I am cognizant of a friend who has survived on hope for the past year. The memories of the birth of a baby boy she held in her arms for the first time years ago, are present on her mind. It is her lifeline this week full of hope, as she marks this first birthday for him without his presence. This week will be difficult for her as she sits and relives the days that led to his passing a short year ago. Like a ceremonial passage she will be quiet in the reality of what has transpired over the last 365 days. She will grieve and smile, she will sob and whimper, and through it all she will have hope that one day she will be with him again.

Hope, is the sustanance of our lives, the thing that keeps us going, the quiet emotion that makes us continue the walk on that lonely path. It keeps us on the path because, with hope comes the rays of sunshine, the breath of life, and the colors of a rainbow. With hope we can move on and grow stronger in the trial, knowing that there is a brighter side. The hope that with time everything is perfect and fulfilled.

A gift for each of us. HOPE!

Vocabulary, Penmanship, Grammar and "BUNK"

2011-02-06T09:37:00.014-05:00

My father was born in 1924 , around the same time that the house I live in now was built. He is a veteran of WWII and served in the Navy. His birthday was yesterday and he turned 87 years old. During the time I have known him, I never, ever heard him say a foul word, a cuss word, or swear. The most offensive utterance I recall to pass across his lips was the word "BUNK". Now, that word could at times have some umphf behind it, and it probably meant a lot more than face value of the one sylable, but it has become endearing to all of us children. As adults, we can not claim the same truth to say that our lips are as pure!

Today is Sunday, and the weather has turned warmer (47ish) so, a great deal of melting is going on after the horrendous snow storms of January. One of the problems with that phenomenon, is the fact that most of the citizens in the Massachusetts area have ice dams on their roofs. We have not been spared.

Our living room was redone this fall, and now the ceiling has a tell tale sign of a leak. Water is like a phantom, and you can never tell where it is coming from. Last evening when we arrived home after a midnight snack at our favorite Chinese Restaurant we were greeted with splattered, stained water all over our marble top radiator. It was dripping from secret crevices about the architecturally framed window of the 20's. I can say with much emphasis that it was not a happy reunion! Luckily for us we have a walk in attic with space above that window to investigate the situation, and after some detective work and the removal of insulation, we were able to find the leaks and at least keep them at bay for the over night hours.

We awoke this morning to find no more dripping and so we got to work! We cleaned the attic ( it has been 12 years since that was done) and we got things in order for the roofer to come on Monday to correct the defects. I was down stairs checking on the window when I heard Steve rustling in the attic above me. I yelled to him and he said, "I found something" ! Oh man not more water pleeeeeze. He came down to the living room 10 minutes later and said, "look what I found". To my amazement his two hands were cupped to hold the bounty of treasure hidden in the rafters under all that insulation.

We carefully examined the yellow tin, EMPTY and the jewelry box, also EMPTY, and the receipts from 1965. Then we saw it. School work!

PRACTICE PAPER

John Sherman

the words

OMEN written twelve times across the top two lines

on the opposite side was the handwriting of another student. It said,

RUTH BISBEE GRADE 8

Sept 7, 1923
This is a specimen of my best penmanship BUNK.

"BUNK" !!!!! Well now how fun was that? I would venture to say, that was "the word" back in the day in 1923, and in the year my dad was born in 1924! I never in a million years would have thought I would see that word written anywhere in my life's journey! But you never know now do you.

There is always a silver lining to every situation in life. I have found myself smiling many times in the past 50+ years, when I am interrupted by just such silver. They are unexpected treasures, and come with warm rays of brightness in an otherwise dreary situation. Hmmmm.......

"BUNK"

I may just have to rethink my vocabulary, and begin using the word from time to time! You can steal it if you'd like!

ps. there was a little sadness in reading the school papers of that era. I saw how accomplished the children were who attended school in the 20's. They had perfectly beautiful penmanship and knew the concepts of grammar. We are beginning to lose so much with texting and computers ....who will find THOSE treasures 100 years from now?

Winter 2011 vs 1969

2011-02-01T22:43:00.005-05:00

Whew! Winter has been harsh this year. Although if I look back, winters like this are the ones I remember most from when I was a child. Here's one of those way back winters for you.

As I lay in bed exhausted from the day of snow play, my body still has the muscle memory of rhythmic sliding. Earlier that morning I lay in that same bed listening to the radio announcer read his list of school closings. "........ no school in Sharon today, all day, Stoneham no school, all day, Stoughton closed today" .......and right there and then I bounded out of bed with a whole new purpose at hand. SNOW DAY I yelled and we all giggled and laughed and danced. For a day home from school was seldom and full of fun. After breakfast it was time to don snow gear and find something to sled with. In those days it was rare that we actually had a sled, so we made do with cardboard boxes and cookie sheets and dishpans, but that was half the fun. We were lucky enough to have the backyard that had a small hill. All the neighborhood kids met at our house for the day to race back and forth,and up and down that little piece of heaven.

As dusk approached I was always surprised to see that we were allowed to stay out just a little bit longer to enjoy the day. Not soon after the sun had set, the back door light would come on and mom would yell out "Come on in! Supper!" We sat at the kitchen table rosy cheeks and glazed eyes! Sleep was at our doorstep, and dreams of the day lay waiting to be told. I could barely keep awake to eat, and crawling into bed was like slipping onto a cloud. I feel a smile upon my face, and the muscle memory rocks me off to sleep.

When did you become who you are?

2011-01-17T08:17:00.006-05:00

ALIVE! hmmmm....we live minute to minute day to day and never really think about it much. Living and being ALIVE don't always coincide even when we begin to ponder the idea. Then one day it clicks and you understand what it really means!

There are rare moments that accentuate the notion of being truly ALIVE. I have an anniversary in my life coming up that definitely defined that very first moment! I hesitate to write about it here because it is so personal, yet it is the moment where I was the MOST REAL and the MOST ALIVE. Although I have pondered writing this post for weeks even debating with myself whether or not to write it, going back and forth from "YES it is who I am and if I am to be honest then it must at some point be written," to " it should never be written leave it alone", and now I have decided to put it to paper. I have decided to leave out the details and just talk about the concept.

First, let me say the interpretation for me of being ALIVE, is when everything else in life is consumed into a particular moment. Now, there are exciting happenstances in life that are exhilarating, and captivating, and exciting, and giggliscious BUT let me ask you are they the defining moments of your life , the ones that come with life altering change that penetrate the mind, body and soul with explosive, indelible, combustible, rebirth? Be careful not to be caught up in the glitz of "moments" but instead look for your own true rebirth.

I can say unequivocally that my life began at the moment, when I was walking in the snow with just shoes on and it didn't matter that my feet were cold. I lost my heel and it still didn't matter ad the nail heads bore into the roadway. What mattered was I was no longer defined as my mother's oldest daughter, or my siblings big sister, or a 10th grader, or a babysitter, or a shy girl, or the chubby girl, or any of that, instead I took an event where I defined MYSELF. I was finally "ME"!!!!! WOW!!!! I am "ME!" I was free, I was flying, I was on top of the world. I was proud, I was "SOMEBODY" I was proud because that "somebody" became "ME"! I was strong, and confident, and perky! I was ALIVE! I changed and became "ME" ......all alone "ME".

That moment will always be a part of me. Sunday, February 11th, 1971 at 2:00 pm will be a moment that will always define who I am. It is the part of me that is all MINE. It was the moment when I became a person who could stand alone, full of love, of caring, of selflessness, of selfishness, of understanding, of growth, of curiosity, of yearning, of desire, of wonder, and full of thought. It is the moment in my life where I can put my finger on it and say this is when I became who I am. I was no longer attached to the lessons of WHO I would become, but instead who I HAD become in one split second. All the preparation and the journey of youth had culminated in a fraction of a second to the awakening.

That was 40 years ago next month. There have been a couple of rebirth moments since then, one was during a personal time in my marriage when I realized things are BIGGER than what we are living at the moment. I loved that lesson as hard and as difficult as it was to endure. It became one of life's sweetest gifts in the revelation of life's knowledge it provided. More recently my rebirth has been spiritual, and even though it has been the longest rebirth and come with much work, like labor it has it's rewards in that work, just as a child it is a treasured jewel that will grow and mature.

I hope you will look on your many days and find that moment in your life when you morphed from cocoon to butterfly. If you are old enough you will have the privilege of wisdom to guide you as you travel the road. If you are young you will have the privilege of relevance. Look carefully and see when you became ALIVE!

The Sunfilled Heart of a Grandparent

2011-01-13T11:49:00.007-05:00

We lived in a two family on the second floor and it was full of magic.....

One day the snow was as white as a gallant prince, with the sun making it almost too blind to see. Crunch was the sound I heard, so new and different. I loved the sound of rubber "over boots" as they rocked toe~heel across the untouched walk way. There was no salt at that time. Snow used to stay white forever, except for the yellow stains from the neighboring dogs. Now, things are reversed. We have no yellow stains because there are leash laws, and we have no white snow because there is road salt.

Except for today.

I am on babysitting duty, so I drove my grandson two towns over for school this morning. All the major roads were plowed down to bare pavement after the blizzard yesterday. Easy driving. Then I took a left onto Plain Street, and the snow crunched under my wheels. The sound instantly transported me to the time when I was 6. I remembered Dad driving me to school and there were tire ruts in all the streets. I could still hear the chains on the wheels of the cars. I could still feel the frosty bite on my cheeks. That is because after a snowfall like yesterday's, the following day is bright, and oh so cold. I could still smell, yes smell the fresh snow just like it smelled that day when I was little. "Plain Street" had not been plowed to pavement this morning, and it was wonderful. The spit of white snow flying behind the tires of the car in front of me was so welcoming compared to the modern brown, wet, salt drenched, water of today's travel. The kind that sprays your windshield dirty, and no matter how much window washer you use, it is never clean until April. Today the white spit was beautiful, and it matched the heavy laden branches of the trees above, that tickled us as we drove by. Magic. Serene. Beautiful!

I took a lazy ride back home while Carly slept in the back seat. When we arrived at my house, the sun streamed into the kitchen of the 20's bungalow, and I was nostalgic. I could smell the yeast dough in my trash. I had thrown it out in it's semi frozen state because of our power outage yesterday, and it had risen there overnight. I immediately thought, I cannot let that go to waste. I proceeded to promptly pluck it from it's bed, and gave a piece to Carly to make memories of her own. She used the child's kitchen set and rolled it out, and pinched it, and marked it all her own. She added some rice accoutrement's, and made a dream for herself. As I watched I decided to take photos...quick photos, for her to enjoy at a later time in her life. I wonder if she will remember the sound of her giggle? I can't promise this will become one of the memories she has of sunshine on her back, but I can tell you it will be in my treasure trove of being a grandma. Oh the brightness of a snowy sun-filled heart.

ps. I would never have done this with my own children....oh the brightness of being a grandma.

Bless the Beasts and the Children

2011-01-06T14:30:00.011-05:00

Things that make you shake your head....and maybe even cry.

My mother caught view of it in his little fist as he walked with my sister and I beside her. I saw a stearn face before I knew what had happened, and then I heard my mother say..."son, did you take that from Tommy Mac's store?" shyly he shook his head yes. He had a look on his face that conveyed to me that he had no idea that what he had done was wrong. After all everyone of those pieces of penny candy were right out in plain view and at knee height to an adult, perfect for the chubby hands of 3 year olds to sample and take home. Were they not there for the taking he wondered? "well, son" my mother continued "you must bring the candy back and tell Mr. Tommy that you are sorry and will never take anything from his store again" I was embarrassed for my brother and scared too. How would we ever be able to look at Tommy Mac again without hanging our head in shame. He was such a nice man. He even gave us a case of Popscicles when we had out tonsils out because he liked us.

So, down we all marched back to Tommy Mac's store to give him back his penny candy.

I don't remember what happened when we went back but the point I have remembered for a lifetime is never take anything that does not belong to you and more than that be respectful to adults.

Oh how the world has changed. The New Year is upon us and I have been pleasantly surprised how beautiful the new beginning has been. I have had many blessings already and have stopped to ponder each one as I recongnize them. They have caught me with unusual surprise, because ordinarily I do not see this many in such a short period of time. In sharp contrast to those blessings, an incident occured this afternoon that crushed all of that beauty. It has me shaking my head in sadness.

I was in a drive through line with three cars ahead of me. As I aimlessly glanced around the parking lot, the occupants in the car directly ahead of me caught my eye. I noticed a young father in the driver's seat and a boy of about 5 years old in the back seat. It struck me odd, because the little boy was not in a seat belt, and had opened his window. As the car inched up in line the little boy reached out, trying to hit the trash barrel or anything else his little hands could reach. I worried that he should be buckled in, but quickly dismissed the thought as none of my business. We moved up again and the little one who was trying to get his dad's attention did so to no avail. I noticed him tapping his father on the head and yet still no response. I thought about when I was a young mother and so overwhelmed with chores and duties that somethimes I ignored my children too, when I was deep in thought, I felt the dad must be feeling those same fears. Then the little one turned around in his seat to look at who might be in the car behind him. I smiled and he responded assuredly and confidenty by giving me a gesture.

I left that establishment and drove home in tears. How could a baby not much older than what my brother was all those years ago, be so different. Then I reflected, he really is no different. He is just a baby wanting to learn. Like my brother all those years ago he didn't know it was wrong to greet me that way. The difference isn't in the child, the difference is in the teaching. There was no adult guiding that little boy with the simlpe words...."son that is wrong." I shake my head and start to HUM <------ listen

Evelyn Saltzman

2011-01-03T14:45:00.005-05:00

It always hits me harder than I anticipate. It catches me quite off guard. I am always sad in a soft and tender way...

Evie was Jewish, she and her husband Irving were the mother and father in law of my younger sister.

On Christmas Eve when we handed out the caroling books, compliments of John Hancock Insurance, Evie would sing all the carols no matter which one we chose, the loudest and with such joy. She would say, I love Christmas Carols! We would all laugh!

Mrs. Saltzman, as I always addressed her was a talker, but I never heard her say anything unkind, or sarcastic, and she enjoyed our family more than we did! She could talk my grandmother the queen of talk, under the table!

Evie, always watched over her husband. From what I could see they were best friends and they took care of each other.

Two years ago I noticed that Evie was getting more frail and she was using a cane at Christmas time. Then it became evident, that although she still had a big smile, she didn't talk as much to those sitting around her. I later found out that she had just been diagnosed with Alzheimer's.

This year, when we got together for our traditional Christmas, it was the first time Evie did not join us. Irving came alone without his partner. She was too ill and confused to come, so she stayed in the nursing home. Irving took a break from his many hours of sitting in her room to be at her side. He visited her everyday, day after day, hour after hour. There was no conversation from her, but his memories were enough for them both. He was her prince and she was his love and companion.

Last night Mrs. Evelyn Saltman passed quietly. It has made me sad, as it always does when a life of someone we have had in our lives leaves us. It saddens me not for what Evie has now, but it makes me sad for what we have lost. I believe that we are the only sad ones, in death. We are sad because we no longer have the presence of our loved ones, but that is temporary and I believe someday we will all be together again! I know Evie is just fine and we will see her again, and when we do, she will be the one leading us in song. So in tribute to a beautiful and cherished woman, I say.....

"Goodnight Mrs. Saltzman, Sleep In Heavenly Peace"

Listen in Quiet Solitude

2011-01-02T08:49:00.004-05:00

Sunday morning quiet...Steve gets to sleep in and I am awake, my internal clock never allows me to sleep in.

Instead I have the great blessing of quiet solitude. I have always been my happiest in quiet times and can vividly remember being less than 8 sitting in a rocker staring out my second floor bedroom widow. The breeze was softly blowing through the screen and the sound of robins echoed in the trees. I believe, as I reflect upon that day, I was probably being punished for something but, it was beautiful to me. Quiet solitude......

Quiet solitude.....these are the moments when we get to peer inside ourselves and take a good look at who we are. We see the crust and scars and fear. We see the times when we could have done better, been better, worked harder, talked gentler, or stood up stronger. We also see the light, and glory. We see the times when we did do better, when we worked the best we could, when we held anothers hand, and when we said what was difficult to say because it is what our Father above would have wanted us to say......these are the moments when we search our soul to discern the truth. When we contmeplate the universe and what it is all about.

As the year begins and I reflect on the year that has just ended I try to judge where I was in the big picture. I had many short comings and didn't always do the right thing, but I did accomplish what I had resolved to do on January 1, 2010. I am happy to have learned something in the process. It wasn't what I thought I would learn and I realize that I must continue on the journey, but it was awesome to look back and see what I have accomplished. In my wildest dreams, just a few years back I would not have believed that I could have done what I did.

In the quiet of this morning I think about what I will resolve to do this year. It has been a difficult process. Each January 1st I have had a plan and blessed as I have been, I have stuck with that plan, and most often that plan has become a life chnging habit. Sort of like wearing seat belts before it was the law. Or taking sweet 'n low out of my diet. Or giving up coffee (that only lasted for one year.....) and then last year reading the bible cover to cover. In the quiet of this morning I sit in solitude trying to think of what is important for me to resolve to do this year. Dang I am stuck.....

Quiet solitude........I think I need to stop typing and sit in quiet solitude to hear the voice of God and then I will know my resolution......

My Winter Wonderland

2010-12-28T11:52:00.004-05:00

Freshly fallen snow and Christmas vacation what could be better? Santa had not brought sleds or flying saucers, but we would make do after all, we had a hill in our very own backyard and a lot of neighborhood kids to join us in some sledding fun! I found the biggest piece of cardboard box left over from presents, and one of my smaller siblings could still fit in the plastic dish pan which went like the wind down the hill, and some of the neighbors did have the "real thing" saucers and toboggans that we all took turns on.

Shouts of "hey don't walk up the trail or it won't go fast,... my turn, wait I'm next,... let's race,... I love the bump at the end best, could be heard all through the day and into the evening and into garden we would fly!

As the sun set it began to get a bit chillier and even though we could feel it in our bones we were not ready to end the day. Our last run was just when we could barely see each other any longer and the lights inside the house shone through the frosted window pane heralding supper was ready!

Our cheeks were rosy red, and our smiles and good nature made supper extra special. As nighttime came and we hurried off to bed we lay there in the dark reliving the days adventure's in stories, always ending the last word before sleep with "do you still feel like you are rushing down the hill on your bum?"

What fun winter is for children. My blessed grandchildren have a dad who made a luge yesterday off of their ten foot high deck that flies way out into their backyard. I know they too will have fond memories just like I do, but today I hate winter, for I sit here in twisted pain just trying to type after shoveling a 40' driveway all day yesterday. Even though my mind still loves it, my body punishes me each time I try to play or work in snow. I will be laid up now for at least three days and I may even need to take a trip to the chiropractor, but not before I get these luscious pictures posted of my WINTER WONDERLAND!~see you soon!

The rest of the story.....Merry Christmas

2010-12-24T00:31:00.001-05:00

Butteflies in my stomach, in the most excitable way always accompanied the orange glow of Christmas Lights in the dim lit room of my mother's "parlor" as we called it back then. It was so magical every aspect created the sense of wonder and joy. Traditional chores seemed effortless, and the unwrapping of decorations took on the same importance year after year. One of the most memorable decorations was the winter scene my mom would create. A hand mirror for a pond, and cotton batten for the snow with prickly green trees and bakeware animals surrounding the sparkly snow covered church, and clothes pin choir boys. After the five children had all grown up with homes of their own, the eighties were in full bloom. Decorations became more sophisticated with Byer Caroler's and Studio 56! The old cardboard houses and wax angels, and the carolers had long been put aside for newer brighter houses and figures! Year after year the basement would be cleaned in springtime and somewhere down the line the cardboard decorations were thrown away to make room for other things.

Now, maybe it was because I was older and no longer lived at my mother's house or maybe it was because the magic of Christmas had taken on a different revelation, but those NEW items never really gave me butterflies.

In Novemebr of this year I was reading Nie's blog and was delighted with butterflies in my stomach and a huge smile on my face all over again. This picture of this church was in her post. She had gotten it from an antique shop. ANTIQUE can I possibly be that old.....well I guess I am after all. I was so excited about seeing this curch in her post that I zipped an email off to her and just as quickly she sent one back saying..."what is your address? I am sending it to you". Well can you imagine my excitement at that prospect. She is a remarkable person. Full of hope and blessings and blessings for others too! I am so happy I know her story. If you don't you will have to take a day to learn about her....but for now you can visit her today here.

Now you know how that church came to be in my "parlor" ~Thank you Stephanie! I do believe in Santa!

~MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE!

First Snow.....

2010-12-20T14:59:00.003-05:00

The first snow and the hustle and bustle of the week before Christmas really came into play as I watched my mother at the kitchen table years and years ago. The Rock Maple top had worn to a warm raw wood by the time I was a young teen, it had seen so many meals, and cups of tea, and homework, and babies fresh from the hospital having sponge baths on fluffy white towels in the sunshine, and cooking too! Sometimes kneading dough, and rolling cookies was the order of the day, but today it was ready for wrapping. Three chairs were piled high with games, and mittens, and perfume and wrapping paper and bows and scotch tape and scissors were waiting to be used. For me I loved the precision of the chore. I loved hearing the paper being rolled out and the scissors gliding without a snag along the roll to make a perfect cut. That shwirsh sound still puts a smile on my face, and my memory goes back to that time each time I cut a piece of paper for my own gifts. I was always the kind of person who would look at the faces of others as they worked, because I knew that a raised eyebrow, or clenched jaw line meant more was going on, and by concentrating on the person's demeanor doing the task it made the memory even stronger.

Memories are what makes this season so special. Whether we have lost someone who will never wrap another present, or we have lost ourselves, memories are the things that can bring us to a place where we can feel.

Timing. We can never anticipate what will happen, but sometimes God makes His timing the ultimate surprise. I believe that things happen for a reason and that the answers will be revealed at some point. It may not be in a day or a week, it may take 35 years or a lifetime or may be revealed in eternity, but when they are revealed the sweetness will be like milk and honey.

Here's an example of a memory I had, that just came to life with perfect timing. Years ago a little cardboard snow covered church was thrown away. It has been gone for a very long time, but the memory of it remained and was made sweeter than anything I could have ever conjured up in my own mind this year, when Nienie sent me her own little white snow covered church this season. There are no words to describe the reality of what had to happen for that moment to occur. It could not have been as sweet, had it happened earlier, or in a different way. How was it that I would know of Nienie from a blog post? That would not have been possible even 15 years ago. How could it be that she would be so loved because of her own tragedy? How could it be that out of thousands of bloggers she would chat with me, how would it be that she had the very same snow covered church even though she is only 27 that I had when I was 5? The timing is just perfect. It was all perfect even when it was tragic. That is what I mean about God's timing, He knew the plan that we could not see. He knew it was perfect.

My wish for you this season is to enjoy your Christmas traditions, and make wonderful memories because we do not know where they will end! They will however be perfect.

It's almost Party Time

2010-12-14T15:55:00.006-05:00

dessert table waiting for desserts

I never said a word. Or at least I don't remember saying a word, but the story in my mind went like this.....

Oh my goodness, I have never been to a place like this. My shoes are shiny and my dress is poofy and I match everyone on the outside, but I am scared on the inside.

I feel like I don't want to be here, but I do want to be here, I wish I wasn't so scared. I don't know how to act. The floors are so shiny. They are wood and they shine like the black piano in the sunlight against the wall. They shine like my black pattent leather shoes.

The girls and boys are all talking, but not me. I am just standing, looking, waiting, wondering....scared. The mother seems to know what to do. She is dressed nicely, and she is telling us we are going to play games. It is Denise's birthday. She is prettier than all of the other kids. She is smarter too. She takes dancing lessons and piano lessons and she has really pretty toys....... hmmmmmmm.

Is that where I came from, was that the beginning of being insecure? It was my first time out, to be on my own in a social situation. I am still that scared at a party. Even when the party is the one I am giving . I want it to be shiny. I want it to be pretty, I want it to be what everyone else expects. I never feel it is good enough. I never feel they will have fun. I am scared. Still, always, forever. Wish me luck for in two days I will be hosting a party.....I am almost finished decorating.....it looks like snow!

A Christmas Wish

2010-12-11T13:38:00.002-05:00

DECEMBER 11,2010sitting

not moving

forward or backward

suspended in time

why?

busy

not busy

too busy

why?

remembering

forgetting

fogetting to remember

why?

decorating

not decorating

decorating too much

NOT

WHY?

Does age get in the way of Christmas? I remember when the days lasted forever, and the wait was almost too much to bear. Now the days don't last long enough and they creep up before we know it with things not getting done, and wishes not being sent and all before you know it Christmas is here.

I have a few days left but my house isn't clean, my presents aren't bought, the gifts I do have aren't wrapped.

Why do we put this on ourselves?

I liked being in the chaos of the season when I was 30 something. It was all new and I needed to prove myself. I LOVED Christmas when I was little because it was all new and bright and sparkly and fun and the smells and the glitter and the wait

was all so worth it.

But now, I just want to sit back and watch. I just want to enjoy the faces of the little ones, who still believe.

I want to BE in the moment of waiting

I want to BE with my family

I want to BE quiet

I want to BE

Listening

Shhhh

hear

LOVE

I hope

I HOPE LOVE
will envelope your Christmas!

ENJOY!

This one is for my Peeps

2010-11-25T09:21:00.006-05:00

One hundred years ago this week, a humble family lived on a dairy farm in the woods and pastures of Maine and had a thanksgiving story to tell. That story has since been passed down to us year after year, and from generation to generation. Today, it will be told for the fifth generation (my grandchildren) to hear......enjoy!
Lucy had been ill for quite sometime, and although she had a large brood of children who were quite old enough to help around the house, and take care of the younger one's, it was decided the youngest four children would be watched over by friends and relatives. Isaac had a lot on his mind with Lucy's illness. Running the dairy and watching the children were better left to relatives.
Flora was round of face with apple blush cheeks, and blue eyes that peeked through the straw blond tendrills all over her head. An angel really, and a delight to be around. She was as happy as a goat to be able to spend this time with her favorite Aunt Winnie and Uncle, who had no children of their own. They doted on her every whim, as meager as it might be.
Just before Thanksgiving, Lucy began to regain her strength and decide to retrieve her children so the whole family would be together for the turkey feast. She was an ancestor of Pilgrim Edward Winslow and was proud of her Thanksgiving heritage, and she loved to have all her family near to her. That morning, she asked Isaac to ready her carriage, and to get Bob in his harness so she could make the trip to Winnie's house, because he wanted to be back before dark. Isaac watched rolled away, and he kept an ear open until he could no longer hear the bells on Bob's harness, and the sound of his hooves clippity clopping down the cart path got fainter and fainter.
It would be such a wonderful reunion to have Flora back in her arms and as Lucy got closer to Winnie's house she watched her little girl run down the path to greet her. Lucy was looking forward to be able to spend some time with Winnifred, and to catch up on what had transpired over the past few months. As the day wore on, Flora was torn to leave Winnie as it approached dusk. She had so many fun days there and would miss her Aunt terribly, but with a little coaxing from Winnifred and Lucy, Flora mounted the carriage to sit beside her mother and they began their travel home. It was already later for the return home then Lucy had wanted but, she started down the cart path anyway waving back at Winnie, and she was soon out of sight.
Isaac had begun to draw anxious as the light began to dim. His wife and daughter were still not home, but just as the worry began to overtake him he heard the hooves of Bob brushing the gravel beneath his hooves. He listened, but the familiar clack of the carriage wheels behind him were silent, and Bob came into the barnyard alone.
Isaac gathered up the oldest boys and raced the buckboard down the path and into the woods. There he saw the remains of the shattered carriage and Lucy and Flora deadly still on the side of the path. He rushed to his wife's side, she was unconscious and her head was covered in blood, and then he examined his faint daughter. Flora was weak and kept mumbling about a bear. He and the boys lifted the pair into the buckboard and raced back to the homestead where Dr. Pease had been alerted to join them. Isaac pulled his wife's large Sunday hat from the hook as he entered the house and covered her face so the little ones could not see her badly mauled face. Flora was placed in her bed where Dr. Pease took charge of her. She had several broken ribs that most likely pierced her lungs. He had the sad news of telling Isaac that she would not survive for more than a few hours. Lucy had three large gaping wounds that swiped across her forehead. She lie unconscious and unaware of what was transpiring around her. Flora passed away later that evening, and Isaac buried her in the family plot the next day.
As he sat vigil in the room with Lucy, he grieved and worried. Four days passed and Lucy awoke and began to relive the story of the accident.

While riding down the path, Bob suddenly became anxious and skittish. She tried to control the reins, but Bob reared up just when a bear cub dashed from the wood side and passed in front of him. When the cub scurried off to enter into the woods on the other side, Lucy got out of the carriage to steady Bob, and pulled him step by step ahead. Flora appeared beside her mother at some point, and then.....
Lucy never blamed the mother bear for the incident, because she said the bear was only protecting her young, just as any mother would do. Lucy only regretted not having the chance to say goodbye to Flora. Throughout her life she had three horizontal scars from the swipe of the bear claw that remained as a reminder of a mother's love.
Although the family had other hardships, with the loss of a child the next year to a burst appendix and then losing a perfectly healthy baby boy at a young age, Lucy went on to be a spiritual comfort in her church and a physical comfort caring for expectant mothers as a mid wife. She enjoyed the company of 14 children and many grandchildren and countless great grand children and so on. I am thankful for her stamina and courage and perseverance and although I was only present with her as a two year old I am blessed enough to have heard what a wonderful woman she was. I am also grateful and thankful that I live in a time where such hardships are not common place!
Happy Thanksgiving!

this is short story written by me form details gleaned from family oration and in published articles from 1911 Forest and Stream Magazine and 2010 Brockton Enterprise

The Cove

2010-11-19T10:22:00.004-05:00

Once and a while life opens the floodgates, and memories pour in from all around. They seem to me like a pomegranate when it first begins to infuse the senses. The rich vibrant color attracts curiosity with a flirting glimpse of what may be familiar but, not always contemplated. Next, you are rendered paralyzed, deciding whether or not to pursue the tickle to pick it up to look deeper. Like the fruit, the first awareness is bright and forthright, but there is much more hidden beneath. That is when the decision to peel the layers and find the juice of what made it a memory in the first place attracts the senses even more. Sometimes, the skin is hardened by what we remember and it takes time and thought and determination to break through it. It can become frustrating and messy, but if the pursuit is honest the rewards are great. The pieces that made up that memory are revealed perfectly contained within the glassy perfection encapsulating each fragment. Each one can be taken separately, to be examined and then delicately tasted for the subtlety it holds, or they can be taken as a conglomeration of excitement bursting with texture and flavor, to explode the rich flavor. Each morsel combining with the next to satisfy the hunger.
Today, a memory from years ago filled with laughter, and beauty and charm and pure delightfulness came across my computer desk from a friend request on Facebook. Immediately the excitement filled my heart and the catching up was the beginning of the layer of a memory being opened, and then the salutation which left me to taste the sweet encapsulate moments all on my own. I lived and re lived those days of a younger heart and the honor I was granted to live those moments. How sweet the nectar. I hope you will join me here to see where I enjoyed the memories. I know you cannot experience them but you can take a glimpse of what are mine below.

Some Memories Last Forever

2010-11-17T09:42:00.003-05:00

Today Iwas going to begin with a title..... "The Way We Were". Oprah happened to have Babs and Robert on and if you ever read my profile you already know that was my favorite movie of all time. I gather from the conversation on television yesterday and a class I had last night I am not alone in that declaration! Yesterday was the end of a dream I didn't know I had been longing for. I found myself with tears down my cheeks, my breath being held, my head nodding in thankfulness, and actual words of affirmation screaming at the television. I was glad I was alone!

The phone wrang at 4:07. I have never let a phone just ring. I looked at it and I looked back at the television, then I looked at it again and made a conscious decision to LET IT RING I was engrossed in the moment.

I know some of you are despising these words because of political views certain people hold. Many of you know that my Dad could not watch certain classic movies "EVER" because of the actors who were in them but ME, I can seperate the art from the heart, and I hung on every word and mannerism. I caught her twirling her weddign ring when Robert sat close to her, I saw the glisten in both of their eyes when they looked at each other, and I knew this was the REAL sequel to that movie. Exhale. It was a moment in time where I will remember just where I was and what I was doing. One of the special moments in life that are just for you, and it doesn't matter who cares about it or shares it. The movie is certainly my all time favorite, but today's interview was certainly the frosting on the cake!

Oh No, I have written a post about a title without even meaning to go there, so I guess the story I had meant to tell after the first sentence will just have to wait. After all I am in that place in 1973 of "The Way I Was"~Enjoy

Joy and Gratitude

2010-11-15T12:45:00.004-05:00

For me one of the most difficult transitions in life is change. I was Grateful to wear a uniform to school each day because I never had to think about what I would wear the next day, nor was I ever surprised. The only problem I ever saw in what I wore each day for 8 years were in my dreams where I forgot my shoes, or went to school only in a slip.
Over the past months while I wrote here, I noticed over and over that most of my subjects were about the past and my fond memories of being young. I HAVE changed over time and my surroundings and habits have changed too. However, as uncomfortable as they were at the time I realize they were necessary for growth and gave me JOY.
Today, I pass through another transition of change. I am contemplating where it will lead. My biggest fear is the unknown of what is to come. Today my neighbor moved. I didn't know him well he was a bachelor much younger than I. He had lived in the house as long as I have lived in mine. We bought them almost at the same time. I had just left a neighborhood that was full of angst, caused by a young bachelor and yet this neighbor was a perfect neighbor.
There was always consistency in his habits and I loved the way he would leave lights on all through the night. His back door light shone brightly into the woods and made me feel safe. It was the perfect night light in my upstairs rooms too. Last night it was out. The woods were darkened and I had no lighted paths upstairs.
I live in a city now, even though my home is on the golf course it is a city none the less. I am wondering who will be my neighbor next? I know there is nothing I can do and that it is out of my control. I hope for another perfect neighbor. Who will hang an American Flag (you can see his in my Memorial Day Post) and keep a neat lawn, and wave across the yard. We'll just have to wait and see. BUT......
If you read through this entire post I have a special surprise for you!!! I was once a neighbor myself to a fabulous man!!!!! I had lived in 7 houses before. Each with their own souls and happiness. Castles, boxes, New England Colonials and apartments but this spot was a dream! A fairy tale come true. A time in space where prayers were answered, lessons taught, and peace enveloped the area before the next transition. I hope you will enjoy seeing my neighbors home. I hope you will see where a dream can be made, where you can feel like a princess or Alice in Wonderland or maybe Wendy from Peter Pan. I hope you will enjoy! I get such JOY at feeling the gardens in his home, and I am Grateful that I lived next to his garage!! Click the Link and Enjoy
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Just a thought for your Imagination

2010-11-03T10:53:00.002-04:00

A soul is is the epitomy of truth and when you are touched by one that is in harmony with your own it transcends all words. A look from the eyes of the person who holds the soul within can burn though yours to reach your heart with an ache that is joyful.
These kinds of connections are made each day throughout your life. Beginning most likely with your mother, to a sibling, and friend to a spouse and child and so on. Once and a while though there is an intensity that is unexpected with just a few souls. Tears well up when I think of the souls that are most in tuned with mine. If you saw Avatar recently, I can liken it to the bond the characters make where your thoughts are one with the Na'vi you bond with. You just have to look at the person or maybe even just think of that person, and there is a deep connection.
I am blessed to have that bond. I can't say in this post, who he, or she, or they are, because then the rest of you would be jealous (wink) but I hope you all get to experience it during your lifetime.

Tricks and Treats of the minds eye

2010-10-31T11:50:00.005-04:00

The yellow light behind me

cast a shadow

on the cement walk.

As mom tucked a black and colorful granny square afghan around the baby's feet, I could hardly keep mine from dancing off down the sidewalk. Although the hard edge of my

plastic mask

kept sliding down past my eyebrows I didn't let the discomfort over shadow the excitement of being out past dark! My pumpkin bag was empty and I could not wait to get going down the street to say

Trick-O-Treat.

Mrs. and Mrs. Hall, who were older than my grandparents, met us at the door first, their twinkling eyes prompted us to say the magic words and they passed a treat into our bag. Each house had a lit pumpkin and we were always anxious until the door opened and a smiling lady or slippered man answered. Sometimes they seemed gruff but looking back I think it was all part of the fun!

The best part of the night was dumping all our goodies onto the floor when we returned back home. Sifting through each piece, we would get either the nod from mom and dad, or we would hear, " I better test this one it doesn't look safe!" Before we knew it the yellow Pyrex bowl would be full. That bowl would sit on the counter for a week, offering lunch bag snacks and after school extra goody treats. My favorite candies were sugar daddy pops and tootsie rolls.

Tonight, I will fill my jadeite Bowl with candy. The candies are much smaller nuggets than the kind we used to receive, but I will watch as one by one the bowl empties out.

Life has come full circle, the bowls in my mind overlap as do the candy treats, blurring into what was and what is. I am now the lady older than their grandmothers passing out the candy to the sweet faced butterflies, and dishevelled pirates. Oh what a fun evening it will be. Tonight there is nostalgia in the air, and little has changed from that first night when I first strode down the cement walkway to ring the bell of a house just like the one I live in now! No, the mind's eye is playing no tricks here. How would I have known all those years ago, the memory was recorded and kept alive to relive as an adult. I am so blessed.~Happy Halloween everyone.

ONLY SHADES OF GRAY

2010-10-25T08:45:00.008-04:00

STUCK...with nothing in my head to put on paper.

Gray, the color of November has emerged today. Orange, yellow, crimson and rust have muted in the light fog to shades of gray without definition, sparkle, or joy. Quiet, still mist envelopes the landscape and nothing is moving. As I peer out the windows struggling for something to write, I notice my surroundings echo the feelings I have inside today. I can see there are still things for nature to tend to before winter yet she seems to be stuck. The leaves and nuts still hang on her boughs and the grass has not yet stopped growing. Her colorful glory and breezes that made her leaves dance across the lawn this weekend have gone hushed. She is drab and uninspired to play.

The ebb and flow of life after 50 plus years has come into a predictable rhythm. Just when things seem to be sparkling with fun and joy for a period of time, everything crashes!

The crash isn't always the life altering kind of crash that devastates a soul and transforms it into a new part of life, it is instead the swelling up of little things that begin to take the light away. The things when taken alone are minuscule and can be dealt with but when added up over a short period of time exhaust one's breath. How does the cycle that began with a glorious wedding and laughter end with a traumatic death of a beloved kitten for a child, and a crashed up car for a man who asks for nothing? When you feel like you do not belong in your own skin, and you know things are going to come in threes, what do you do? Wait it out? Exercise? Eat? Sleep? Create? Work? Clean? WHAT DO YOU DO!

I find that my natural progression for times like this follows a predictable path. Even if unpleasant, it is always the same and constant, and it gives me the comfort of knowing it will pass. For me, I wonder and then worry, which manifests into a heightened octave in voice and agitated karma, then I get quiet and withdrawn, then I worry about that, then I eat, and then I CLEAN! I think sometimes I clean because it puts order back into the situation. I feel more in control, and by the time I finish putting my home in order, which by the way could take days, the situation has corrected itself. The positive by product of upheaval in my life is order! I have learned what to expect from years of living the highs and the lows. I know calm will all come into line and things will be orderly once more, but until then.........ARGH!!!!!

post script: My grandchildren watched their kitten pass away from seizures this weekend, and while going out to relieve their anxious hearts with a treat, we backed right up into my hubby's brand new (LOVED) car. I am still holding my breath for number three!

The subtleties that belie a photograph

2010-10-12T16:37:00.004-04:00

Sometimes I look at pictures from long ago and think about my life then and what I was doing and where I was going and how I felt. It has always amazed me at how different those pictures from 30, 20 or even 5 years ago were and where my heart and mind was then and where my heart and mind are today. When I decorated in the beginning I see a young girl with no decorating ability who only knew to copy what she had been brought up with, I saw it grow in a style that was meant to compete with young women she associated with, then it grew larger yet to bring a sense of quiet self and new found freedom from competition. A signature appeared that was all mine, and I was finally comfortable in it for a good 12 years. I believe that happens to all of us and I believe that it is a natural occurrence, but today something weirder happened. I took a picture of my newly decorated dining room and for the first time in my decorating attempts, I feel like I do not belong. It looks ethereal to me for some reason and although I like it in real life it feels foreign. It is almost unsettling to me. I think it is because so many times in my life I think of things, and those things happen. Even when I don't tell anyone. Now, I am feeling a little uncomfortable with this new room and the thoughts I am having about this picture is something I'd rather not be thinking. So, don't say I didn't tell you so when things.........do happen and the message in this room is revealed!

Rainy Day Blessings

2010-10-06T15:03:00.006-04:00

Rainy days always evoke awesome moods in me. Some are comforting, like being able to stay in bed extra long on a rainy Saturday, some are melancholy allowing thoughts of people who are no longer with us, and some are worrisome, like when you cannot find your raincoat because the season has just changed. Today is one of those rainy days when I remember the feelings rainy days placed in my memories long ago. One of those memories was of the soft light in my school room in first grade. It was a gentle light, unlike the harshness of flourescent lights that are in schools today. It conjured up hominess and safety. The shades on the windows were drawn half way and the hardwood floors still smelled of shellac from being freshly done over the summer. I would day dream often then, and I realize now that would be my personality forever. Daydreaming is such good therapy for me. I love to create in my daydreams and I love to reminice about things of my childhood. My heart hasn't changed over the years. I bet yours hasn't either if you think about it.

On a rainy day just like this, we would often have art in the afternoon. That was one of my favorite subjects. I know now, that was because I loved to create. Like then, I took to my stamping area today to make some fall cards. The oranges and yellows and golds brought back memories of the days when we would make waxed paper leaves for our classroom windows, so I used wax paper today in a genre to make my autumn cards.

Later, I rearranged my foyer to create a welcome fall vignette with gourds and fall flowers, and a new lamp which illuminated the area with the soft glow of my childhood classroom. It touched my interest and I wanted to write this as I think about what my little grandchildren will become when they are grandparents. Will they look upon the time they spent in their classrooms like I do? Today, I wonder if my little grand daughter will be a fashion designer or clothes buyer because of something she said in school this morning. Is it HER personality? The personality she will carry for a lifetime? She played in her art room at school today and wet her sleeve. Being a class of three year olds the teacher is prepared for accidents and swiftly brought out a spare dry shirt for her to change into. When Carly gazed upon the shirt she didn't miss a beat and exclaimed "Oh I can't wear that, it doesn't match my pants" !!! I'll let you in on a little secret, she does not get that from our family, we are not fashion savvy! So, I think it is all her!!!! This story shows you that it is in our nature when we are just babies to be who we are. Free from judgement and constraints. FREE to be us, even if it is for a short time in the scheme of life it is kept deep in our soul for us to have when ever we choose to embrace it.

Take care of that person from long ago. You are the purest in heart and desire that you will ever be when you return to that time.

I still yearn for soft light over flourescent anytime. The shadows play beautifully off a mirror and onto a ceiling, where I can day dream and be the person I really am.........

p.s. the wallpaper in my foyer is from the 1930's I do not have the heart to remove it. It has been here through three families, isn't that feat amazing!

Pet Peaves Are Pay Back

2010-09-29T14:11:00.003-04:00

I knew it wasn't the right thing to do but Donna Costa and the other big girl were going to walk to the next bus stop to wait for the bus so I went. My stomach hurt with guilt but I was unprepared to make a decision for myself. In my mind a tape played sort of like this.....I had walked to Hansen's Store before on my own to get cigarettes for my mother and this was the next house over from there so I guess it would be okay to go. The thing I didn't count on was crossing the main road on a corner.

As we prepared to cross we looked both ways I was last. I hesitated looking both ways seeing a car coming up the road but I had never had to guage how fast and how much time I had to cross. So stepping out on my own I froze. I ducked my head and closed my eyes and then looked up into the face of the driver in the car. He was smiling and waved me on to cross. I ran as fast as I could , heart pounding how could I have been so stupid.

A new lesson learned, responsibility and wisdom earned! I never did it again!

These pearls are things that grow you up! Things that are scary and new but that last a lifetime in the bucket of experience. I am happy I grew up scared and a little leary, because I think it made me a more responsible adult. I do not take for granted the feelings of another human being sharing the plane of geometry I am on. I do not impose myself upon them, and always try to see their point first. However, I am amazed at how so many younger people than I are not conditioned in that way.

Today, I was the driver of the car on the main road. I was driving along, when all of a sudden a pedestrian was in front of me with six other pedestrians right along side them. They did not look up into my face. They did not stop short, they did not run fast. Instead they sauntered, texted, postured and walked relaxed, as they slowly moved in a diagonal direction across four lanes of traffic. How life has changed.......I guess they figure....oh never mind...I learned also that if I can't say anything nice, don't say anything at all. Paybacks are not always sweet!

Japanese Maple

2010-09-20T12:16:00.006-04:00

It is one of those sunny days just before fall when you want your windows to sparkle, so I decided to take out the Windex and go to work in my dining room. It looks out onto the most beautiful 100 year old Japanese Maple tree and I want to see it's glory this fall when it comes into color....and I pause to wonder. Once it was young and saw the people around it care for it. As it grew it saw children grow and climb on it's strengthening branches. It became majestic and people stood under it for marking time....today I think about it and want to have clean windows so I can see the splendor as it bursts into color this season.......

I saw the house in the real estate add that said OPEN HOUSE today. I wanted to go even though it was in the "city" because it was really cute and oh so super affordable. CHEAP actually! "Steve barked I am not going to live in Brockton!" at which I replied "oh let's just go look!"

That was ten years ago.

Days come and go and before you know it you are a different person from that day. I remember that it was difficult for me to say I lived in Brockton. Maybe it was self centered and conceited but I think it was more because of the reaction I had gotten so often. "WHAT!" Yoouuuuuuu live in Brockton? Well, in the beginning I could reply when asked with an answer like this "we actually have two homes, a house on the ocean and another near Easton" and leave it at that. Time passed and we sold the house on the ocean and kept the one we live in now in Brockton, and I began to say "I live in Brockton" because it is home. It is beautiful and the neighborhood is the best I have ever lived in....Hmmmm go figure, the neighbors in Brockton are the Best? YUP!WOW!

I share a driveway with one of my neighbors and just as afraid as I was to see how that would work out, I think my neighbor was even more afraid. After all she had been in her house for more than 30 years and been neighbors with the same family for nearly as long. Now, things were going to change for her. The first time I met Kathy she was so sweet. She brought a welcoming gift to us and I remember noticing how well dressed she was. She was half a generation older than I so, she was brought up to look nice before leaving the house and she had gracious manners. As years went by she never forgot my birthday, Easter, Christmas or Thanksgiving and would always send flowers. She wasn't an in your face neighbor but she was always available, polite, generous and "neighborly" and she kinda felt like what it would be like to see my mom again.

She owned a home on the cape so she was gone from Memorial Day until Labor Day and then would return as spry as she left. Then, two years ago she changed. I couldn't put my finger on it at first. She wouldn't always keep up with my conversations and often she would tell me about her glorious time when she was a child over and over. I loved the stories she would tell of "Old Brockton" It was magical for me. However, they became the only conversations she would have with me, and I began to wonder. About eighteen months ago I received a phone call from her family telling me that Kathy was in the beginning stages of Alzheimer's. It was devastating for me to see the woman I first met, who dressed so beautifully and had her hair done each week change before my eyes. She became recluse and weary, closing the shades of her tv room window because it looked out onto my gardens. Her home which was always lit and welcoming was now dark by 6 pm. Her car was locked in the garage and her routine was changed. She lost weight and her hair grew long and her face transformed to that of a scared child....

Hum.......... last, swipe of my cloth and I am finished ......I burst into tears.....I miss my neighbor. She was a good example to me of what a good neighbor is and should be......time marches on again, hardly noticing........... I wonder if the maple tree does.

BARE FEET TRAUMA

2010-09-11T13:17:00.004-04:00

It felt cool on my feet and a little dirty. Scratchiness on my legs and back made it uncomfortable for me to be happy and I was scared of not knowing what to do. I looked to all the other little faces that were smiling and the moms that were smiling too but, I didn't feel that way. I felt all alone and scared.

My feet ran as fast as they could onto the stage and I think I remembered my steps but I was too scared and embarrassed that I had no shoes on, and I only had flowers covering my bossoms to enjoy the moment.

Dance Receital for me happened when I was four. I was a hawaiin dancer in a shiny grass skirt and flower bra with bare feet. It embarrassed me then and it would be just as traumatic now. However, I was also in a second dance, where I was a baby chick dressed in the softest white fuzzy material that came to my wrists and up to my chin. Although my legs were bare I wore tap shoes! Does it ever make you wonder, that your level of modesty may have been ingrained when you were just a little goober? I think mine was inate even then, and that code of modesty has lasted throughout my life.

Today was Carly's first day of Dance. She would not show me what she did in class because she said she was "shy" , now let me say she is far from shy! However, I wonder if the feelings in her soul today are the feelings that will last her lifetime, as mine did? Isn't it amazing to see that the way the world views you isn't necessarily the same way you view yourself.

My personna has been viewed so differently by my siblings then what is in my heart. I guess we put on airs as my mother would have said. Is it to protect us, or show a side we wish we were, or is it just something inate that we have no way of stearing. I wish I knew. Whatever it is, we should take the time to acknowledge the feeling and then nurture the heart from whence it came to give courage, patience, confidence and love.

Find that little child that once was in your heart and teach them to learn it is okay!

Be Selfless

2010-09-10T09:10:00.007-04:00

I have no great story to tell today except to share my morning routine. I start my day with pee-ing (c'mon you and I both do it (wink) and then I brush my teeth, take a shower, but only if I did not take one the night before or if I am going out. I hurrily get dressed, and make my bed, throw in a load of laundry and sit down at my desk. I clear my mind, and begin to sing (well..... I can't sing so I hum) a song of worship, and open my bible.

That is my daily waking up routine. After prayer time I open my computer and go to NieNie's blog first, she always inspires me to be a better person. Then I blog hop with a cup of coffee for the next 45 minutes or so depending on how lost I get. I laugh, I cry, I ponder, I see creative ideas, and I assess my day. When I am touched with something, I never know what it will be, I go on to the rest of my routines and move away from my computer. This morning was no exception. As I read the blog of a young mother who just had a birthday she wrote that she felt old, by the way this little girl is 20 something so it is all relative now isn't it, I noticed she posted this lovely quote on her blog, and that made me "ponder". What a great way to think about what beauty is .......selflessness! That is why Stephanie (nienie) is so beatuiful even with her scars. I pray with the help of God I will learn those lessons well to beutify my little piece of the world. ~Enjoy your day and this quote! Go and be beautiful today!

For attractive lips, speak words of kindness, For lovely eyes, seek out the good in people. For a slim figure, share your food with the hungry. For beautiful hair, let a child run their fingers through it once a day. For poise, walk with the knowledge that you never walk alone. People, more than things, have to be restored, renewed, revived, reclaimed, and redeemed. Remember, if you ever need a helping hand you will find one at the end of each of your arms. As you grow older you will discover that you have two hands, one for helping yourself and the other for helping others." Audrey Hepburn

Labor Day

2010-09-06T09:23:00.003-04:00

All summer my sedum have stood at my back door entrance as sentrys welcoming me home. I knew they were there, gracing my landscape design yet most days I hardly noticed them. Then in a moment you don't see creep up, you notice that there is a difference. The shadows are darker and longer, the birds are quieter, the lawn is greener, the air is less heavy and your mind remembers from experience the season is changing. The summer is flowing away, it has ebbed for one last time and you probably didn't even mark the time, and now it is flowing away to give rise to a new season.
When I was young this in between seasons was uncomfortable because it was chilly in the morning and oh so early to be out of the house going to school, and then in the afternoon it was sticky and I was sweaty. It never felt particularly "right". I would wear knee socks and oxfords in the morning to go to school and then change into flip flops and shorts in the afternoon. My drawers we full of both kinds of clothes and it was not at all calming.
As I look at my own life now, I feel that in a broader sense just like the change in seasons,that is where I am. I am not comfortable in being between the seasons of my life. I have been in the warmth and fun of mid adult hood with all the energized moments, like summer brings . Long ago I left the spring of being a new wife and mother, excited in all NEW moments in life that would begin my Memory Album in my minds eye. Everything was SO fresh. I transitioned easily into the role of summer where I became a more confident mom and enjoyed the spring of my own babies in all their exploration into adolecense! I was full. My life as a mom was enriched and I was empowered, and I began to live my life in a way that was freeing and self absorbed once again like it was when I was 16. I was in the last days of summer!
Now, I see the onset of fall. The shadows are darker and longer and the quiet has begun to set in. I peer from the sidelines, like in a football game. Not nimble enough, or perky enough to be the cheerleader, but still interested enough to enjoy the excitement. I reflect on what it used to be like and I feel a tinge of sadness that those days are gone, but know too that they will forever be in my memory to live out again and again!
Although the times are changing and a new season is about to bloom, it will bloom in the richest of colors. The jewel tones of the autumn season enrich our lives, and we look forward to them. People come from all over to be a part of that season and draw close to it. The warmth and hominess they receive from autumn are the same gifts that we exude in our lives during our autumn season. We are wiser, and more patient with time, we are more content to be just who we are, we are happier to be sharing our dreams and our hearts with those we love and more.
Autumn only took a moment to creep up on me, I didn't see it's fast approach but I am aware that it is here. As I enjoy the onset of fall and sit on my porch drinking hot cider, I will think often of the days of summer and my life's journey.

My Neighborhood

2010-08-28T11:55:00.006-04:00

you have to click on this picture to feel my neighborhood!!!!!!!

April Fools day, that is how I remember the date. That evening in 1961 we were finally walking through the door to our "new" home. I was seven. We had baked macaroni and cheese for supper. There were moving boxes everywhere. The floors were shiny. The walls were new white plaster. The girls had their own room. There was a front and a back door!

I was in a new home in a new neighborhood. It would be the neighborhood of my childhood filled with great times and fun....BUT the neighborhood that tugs most on my heart is the one that I had just left. Through my life of fifty years it is the neighborhood of my infancy, toddlerhood and baby childhood that evokes the tender tugs on my heart. Is it a coincidence that my heart tugs now in the neighborhood I live? I wonder.

This picture is "My NEIGHBORHOOD" now. I am protective of it, I love it, I cherish the time in it, I dream in it, I relish it.

I know it will not be forever but I also know without a doubt it will be the one I think of when days are done.

I chose this neighborhood in a place that is not "the" place to live. In a place where people look down their noses, even if subtle and always have quizzical looks when I say where I live. I chose this place because it had a tug on my heart the first moment I looked at the for sale sign. This place is HOME.

Living in over 10 houses gives me perspective that lots of people do not have who have only lived in 2 or three homes. I get to look back and see the BIG DEAL houses and those who just make you feel like you are home. Sometimes, it is the place that no one else would want to be! I think it is much like life. Your shoes are filled with you and no one else can walk in them. They may look drab, or worn or they may look chic and sophisticated but they probably feel great! They feel that way because they are part of who you are.

I am proud to be living in my neighborhood. Yes it is in a city that is known for violence and other city things, but it is so HOME to me. As I wonder why I am drawn here, I realize that my soul and point of reference comes from the first neighbor hood I lived in. It had a tree lined street exactly like this, with beautiful homes, Arts and Crafts vintage, and lawns with straight walkways like an outstretched hand to the street, that welcomed everyone to visit not just those people who drove into your driveway.

Have you got a place you can call home...the real place where your soul is happy and content and fits? A place where you are not wrapped up in what other people think. Oh I hope you do, because your soul will be happy when you are home, no matter what kind of box or shoe it is!

Blessings....

BLURRY

2010-08-26T02:00:00.003-04:00

2:00 a.m.

It is way past my bedtime but I am wide awake after only being asleep for 35 minutes....

6:20 p.m.

The evening began with a knock on the door, it was Amy from across the street. She was a bit early but I welcomed her company. "Come sit in the living room and we can chat while we wait for the others to arrive"

The conversation was all over the place and began with her telling me of a funeral she attended earlier in the day of a very good friend of hers, and then switched to why I brought my adopted kitty back to the shelter and how her basement was a bit musty and needed airing out. She said it was due to her brand new boiler being so efficient that the heat no longer leaked from it to keep the basement warm! How funny, but then I thought to myself , how much energy am I losing each winter to an old heating system. When we moved here 10 years ago we replaced everything from the roof to the water heater. I have never lived in a house for more than 7 years so when Amy told me of how her water heater let go one time it horrified me. "I think I should think about looking into the condition of my water heater....it is over 10 years old you know." I thought of the misery that would await us when we go to Florida in the winter if it let go in our absence and decided that a water heater check would be on the list of things to do this fall.

Lori and Tara and Josephine soon began to arrive and we all went down stairs for class. At 9:00 p.m the girls were gone and I was left to clean up my stamp room for another class on Tuesday. Suddenly I heard step upstairs and was on alert, for maybe Amy had returned, but then I heard the familiar sound of Steve's voice. He was home early. We sat for a bit in the basement stamp room while I ate a quick chicken salad plate and Steve told me of his bad beats in poker. Then we looked at the clock and said with satisfaction, hmmmmmm it is going to be a nice early night to bed. I put a load of laundry in while Steve locked the doors and we were in bed by 10:30! "Early news tonight hon? and then lights out?" I said "sounds good" he reaffirmed.

11:20

I am a fast sleeper so before I knew it I was awakened with a voice form the hall..."Donna, do you have water running?" The wash cycle should have been finished by now I thought. "I don't think so"...then the sound of Steve's feet down the stairway and I heard the door to the laundry shute open. A few seconds and footsteps on the basement steps......"DONNA!!!!!! COME HERE!!!!!!!" in my half sleepy state I thought oh no, I should not have put those jeans in the washing machine without a full load of clothes. You know sometimes there are too many suds...well that was what I was envisioning........and I knew he couldn't be happy, so I sprang down the stairs to hear water GUSHING!

12:30 a.m.

Did you know that when water heaters let go they make a mess and a lot of water! Did you know they only last on average about 10 years?

2:00 a.m.

The good news ..... my floor is washed clean

The bad news we did not have a mop, or a wet vac so we cleaned up about 10 gallons of water on our hands and knees.

The good news...we weren't away on vacation

The good news ....Steve heard it before morning!

The irony....... I think Amy is psychic! ~Enjoy your weekend!

All About Your Heart

2010-08-15T15:13:00.006-04:00

Today, I thought I was prepared to send a beautiful message of love and hope to all of you only to find that my post was deleted . I was disappointed because I had worked so hard on it but then I came to the realization the ALL things happen for a reason, and that this was an opportunity for me to rethink the message I was sending and let God lead me instead.
When I began the original post it was meant to open my soul and vulnerability and plaster it out here in blogland. After I wrote it yesterday I had it scheduled to post and I went out for the day. As I drove down the highway I thought to myself should I really put that info out into cyberspace? After all once it is out there there is no taking it back...I let the thought drop from my mind and decided I would re read it this morning before post and then decide. Well, as I said I didn't have to, it was gone. I thought it was pretty good too but I guess just not for exposure now. So, let me begin again.......

2008

It is hot and humid and Steve is watching television downstairs trying to stay cool so, I get some blogland time and I am enjoying all the wonderful tastings that talented writers and photographers and crafts people have to share! It goes like this....
CLICK....pretty.....CLICK...Ol' America How we'll Miss You...CLICK...Our Creative Corner ooooo I can do that!.....CLICK.... Searching for a Rainbow cute..............CLICK... babies.....CLICK....cute room.......CLICK....chickens?.......CLICK Whispering Poppies; oceanside boutique......CLICK ...cjane.... CLICK...wait....CLICK back.....CLICK.....oh no, tears fill my eyes, tears fall, oceans of tears, sobs........CLICK my life changes forever........

In one quick click I start a new spiritual journey in my life, as one physically beautiful, young girl begins the journey of survival in hers. My spirit will change dramatically and my relationship with God my father will be changed too, and her life will change dramatically in her physical strength and endurance and testimony of faith and hope and love. Stephanie Nielson was catastrophically injured two years ago today in a plane accident. Her story is one that I think everyone should take a peek at. Her life as a loving and beautiful wife and devoted mother was thrown into the depths that none of us want, and most of us would probably not have the grace to shine through. However, I believe with all my heart and my soul that God's plan was for her to show us how to have relationship with Him in a more intimate way. Without her story and my aching heart for her well being, I would not have learned the lessons of hope, and forgiveness, and endurance and most of all FAITH in God that I have learned . Stephanie gives such beautiful testimony of her Heavenly Father's wisdom and security and does it with the grace of an angel. Stephanie has been faced with a myriad of changes. Some of those changes would be insurmountable for us to accept, but with the grace of God she will accept them, and she will continue to accept them as she shines, and rejoices in her love for God through them. I love the words that Mindy Gledhill writes for Stephanie in her song All About The Heart. I hope you will listen to it. She sums up who Stephanie is so wonderfully....enjoy

starry nights and bright sunflowers follow you where you may go

OH I have loved you from the start...........

you are brighter than the stars

believe me when I say

It's not about your scars

It's all about your heart..............

You're a butterfly held captive, small and safe in your cocoon

Go on you can take your time, time it's said will heel your wounds

GOT BOREDOM?

2010-08-13T10:22:00.003-04:00

Oh can you remember those long hot days in August when the newness of summer vaction had all but expired and you were "B-O-R-E-D!!!! My mother would get so exasperated when we would say ...."but there is nothing to do...." and she would say "I'll find you something to do (like cleaning your room) now get outside and play!" I believe that is when the countdown to "back to school" began!

Well, I must say I am never bored these days, in fact I could use a few more hours in a day. I find myself chuckling often as I go through my day wondering how I ever got things done during the period of carpooling, and gymnastics, and homework and showers and all the peripheral things that go on while raising a family. Then I quickly say thank you to God and my husband for blessing me with such a wonderful life that allows me to be creative and NEVER BORED! Have a wonderful day!

The Letter

2010-08-10T10:21:00.002-04:00

The amber glow of lights in rectangular shapes exposed dark silhouettes behind the curtains. Many, many more dusky images than the usual night would show from those window panes. Laughter welled up from inside the house in bursts like intermittent fireworks, with each crescendo there would be heightened anticipation for the next. Outside young children revelled in the excitement of being left alone to play. The adults were too busy in their own joy to remember that it was late. The moths gathered overhead around the street lights and mosquitoes played bob and weave with little swatting hands.
It was the summer solstice and our cousins were here from Delaware!

Each year my four brothers and sisters would anticipate the arrival of our four cousins from Delaware. We only saw them once maybe twice a year and it was exciting because they brought wonder and excitement with intriguing stories of their travel adventures and demonstrations of what they learned during that time. I FELT like I was always standing in the background watching a play unfold, it was wonderful. Their grace and poise far surpassed mine and I tried to learn what they had to offer. Their mom and dad were college educated and my cousins did everything just right. I remember one year they showed what they had learned in gymnastics, and I felt so envious that all I could do was a somersault! As the years went on the visits were fewer because of school and busy lives. I looked forward to any news of how my cousins were and what they were doing. We all grew up and made our way through life and they all became very successful.

As life continued down it's path we reconnected. Adults now, the reconnection was sweet and soft. It felt good! Life got busy again and emails became fewer, but today I got to email back and forth with Sheldon for a little bit. He sent me the most lovely note, but one I found difficult to comprehend. He shared the other side of the cousin story, the one from his eyes. Funny how we perceive life, our stories didn't match!

You see, there are different perspectives to all moments. I saw cousins who were beautiful and exciting, who brought wonderful memorable times to us, and Sheldon writes ..."I remember when growing up that my mother, whenever she mentioned you, always referred to you as beautiful....from my perspective as your younger cousin...I would look forward to visits to see my cousins. Wonderful, happy, exciting times."

It is amazing that we never saw each others perspective!

I find it interesting that in our own minds we are always doubting who we are. Even after 57 years I can not think that anyone would have described me as beautiful. Yet my cousin says it is so. Who would have thought! Not me.

In the last paragraphs of our email Sheldon mentioned how difficult it is to imagine that children of today may not have the same kind of memories that we had growing up partly because of the influx of electronics. I have written those same sentiments here in this blog. Although I agree, I have come to realize something more important. I believe we are able to do now, what our parents and relatives were not able to do in the generation past. How wonderful is it that the children growing up today are here during a time where we as adults know the importance of taking the time to tell each one of them how beautiful and how important they are.

I hope that you will take a moment today, to tell one of God's little treasures just how beautiful they are I believe it will shape the person they are inside!

~Enjoy

*Sheldon is an attorney I have his permission to publish his email to me (wink)!

ARGH!!!!! Do you think it means anything?

2010-08-09T09:30:00.004-04:00

I absolutely get a chuckle out of life sometimes. Can you recall those moments in life when you are ALONE and something happens, and all of a sudden you find yourself laughing out loud? You are almost jolted into the moment by looking around to see if anyone...

Excuse me? ANYONE??? Remember you are alone silly . There is no anyone. But you still look anyway to see if anyone else saw you laugh out loud when nothing around you was funny?

Or how about when you are completely immersed in what ever it is you are doing and then out of the blue you stop and randomly look out the window and see something really odd, that if you hadn't stopped at that very moment it would have been DONE AND GONE? You would have missed it.

And how about because you DID look out the window earlier in the day and you took NOTE of it, that something later in the day happened to remind you of what happened earlier and you begin to laugh out loud or at least make the noise humph!!!!!!!

Well, that is what happened to me.

I have been very busy these past few weeks prepping for a class I was having yesterday in my home. So all the rooms EXCEPT MY OFFICE were clean. Remember the picture posted here months ago of my messy office? Well, it returned LOL. Anyway, my class is over and I have to do BILLS so I came into my office but realized I could not find them with all the clutter. So, I began the task of cleaning things up. Now, I have come to my office 100 times in the past few weeks and my head and eyes have been on the tasks at hand. Just like today. Except today I just happened to look out the window and saw three of the blackest, biggest CROWS or maybe even RAVENS in the branches of my pear tree. They were huge and magestic and a bit intimidating too! I have never seen them that close, nor have I seen them in this particular neighborhood! So, I went to take a picture, but by the time I got my camera they were gone. I then put a leftover cupcake from my weekend class, out on the patio hoping to lure them back. No success. Reluctently, I went back to cleaning my office.

Later in the day I picked up a bag that had been on my desk for four weeks unopened. It contained some fun things from a decorating store that was closing in the area, but I had left it there unopend until today. As I opened the bag and looked in, I rememebered I had bought the shades inside for a couple of light fixtures, but I had forgotten about a table mat I had gotten for the fall. I opened it up and low and behold...I laughed out loud!!!!!!

Happy Eightieth Birthday, MOM!

2010-08-05T08:17:00.005-04:00

3 generations of grauation portraits

mom, me , and my daughter

It was hot and humid and I had been in the house all day watching the kids, my brothers and sisters that is. Dad was at work and mom was working too, and she would not be home until around 3:00. Saturdays were always better than the week days because mom would be home at 3:00 instead of going into work at 3:00. I remember how lonely it seemed when she would leave each late afternoon for her job at Analog Devices. Dad was great, but he never really had an art for cooking like mom did so, we often had canned sardines and boiled potatoes for supper. Not quite the pot roasts, and meatloaf with mashed potatoes that mom could make! PLUS, dads in the 60's weren't as hands on as they are now so, things seemed awkward when mom wasn't around. The tempo wasn't the same and the house was missing something. I know things were tough to make ends meet in those days, and therefore mom decided to help out by working nights. That way her children always had a parent guiding them.

But, saturdays were different.

On saturdays we would clean the house, and as you remember because I was the oldest, I would boss everyone into doing the chores. Starting with the stripping of beds and making them up again fresh with sheets right from the clothes line we continued with polishing the furniture. Then we would vacuum and wash floors, and clean the kitchen and bathroom. This particular Saturday was no different except I wanted everything to shine, and it did!

Then I made the prettiest cake a 14 year old of the 60's could make, and decorated it just so, and surrounded it with cards and a present and displayed it nicely arrayed on the kitchen table, and waited.

It was my mother's birthday and I rarely saw her being treated special so, I wanted to make her feel special.

I continued to celebrate her birthday each year unitl she passed away in 1993,

and even now I go to a special restraunt, one that isn't a chain, one that sometimes looks out onto the ocean and one where there is a corner table for two.

I sit alone and think of all the birthdays and lunches my mom and I shared.

Today I am going to do it again, to sit and talk.

I don't think there will ever be a birthday of hers that I won't be sharing with her.

As each year passes it becomes more and more poignant at how young she was when she left us for good. I am still lonesome for her after 17 years. She will be younger than I will be soon, and I will become the old woman speaking to the younger mature woman one day. But I will always feel like her little girl. I hope she feels special now.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY MOM

I LOVE YOU

The Mundane things in Life are Precious Gifts

2010-07-30T13:16:00.004-04:00

I think sometimes God does the greatest things for us that we don't know about until years down the road.

I sat on the toilet, and my little 4 year old legs were unable to touch the floor but I watched as my mother took the hose and laid it in the sink. Water drained out of the round white tub and then she began the best part of the process! One towel, or diaper as was most often the case, was pulled from the tub and methodically trapped between two rollers. As the water squeezed out from one side of the rollers, the fabric came out squished, and wrinkled, and as flat as could be, from the other side. She would then take the corners of the fabric in her hands and with a quick as a flash movement, snap that fabric open to almost dry!

A giggle would rise from my toes and the process began all over again and again!

Do you ever wonder why those moments are imbedded in your mind for a lifetime? I think it is for when we are old, and all the people that we have loved have gone, and we are now alone to begin the process again to share the memories for the next generation.

Today, I bought a fresh can of paint so I could white wash the rock walls of my basement. Now, how many people do you know that actually paint the rocks in their 1920's home? I don't mean just to just throw a little paint on them, but to make them shine like bleached linen! It seemed to me that every September my grandmother would call my mother on the phone and say, "well your father is going to paint the basement floor today!" Now, at that time we lived in a house with a coal furnace, and you wouldn't even begin to think about painting the basement with a sooty coal furnace! That was a long time ago and today as I opened that fresh can of paint and began to stir, the memory of my grandfather, a man of few words mind you flooded in. It was comforting to know that he is not forgotten in my mind. For each time I paint my basement it will be impossible for me not to remember him. It is like that in the same way, when I pull my laundry from my washing machine and shake the wet clothes with a flap of air into the dryer, each and every time I think of my mom! I hope I am making mundane memories for my children and grandchildren!

Happy memories~

Play Time no more......

2010-07-28T11:09:00.004-04:00

It was hot so mom let the three of us play in a bucket of water in the backyard. Now it wasn't a bucket so much as it was a dish pan, but on that hot summer's day it became solice from the muggies. Transforming it into a doll bath our hands got wet along with the front of our shorts. Then it became our bath tub where we would take turns with just a little bickering to get as much of ourselves as humanly possible into the pool of water! Our feet were all that could embibe. After about 15 minutes we ended up, or should I say because I am the oldest and therefore that made ME "boss", I ended up pulling the bucket from out beneath the feet of number 3. In a rush to relief I dumped it all upon MY head and I was cool! Of course crying and tattling ensued and the day abruptly ended with a nap!

I remember all sorts of games and play times like that. As I look at what is around my home for little ones to dream in it makes me sad to know with all the structured activities that they have, and the Wii and computers where does the imagination get fed. I am sure these vessels would make good play things! Don't you?

Unexpected NAP TIME

2010-07-22T13:04:00.000-04:00

Simpler Days

2010-07-22T11:21:00.010-04:00

Colin always says as I am leaving this room "privacy please" and I smile and close the door behind me, for him to be alone.

Today I was listening to the song You'll Never Know....if you get a chance to play it

I hope it will set the mood for this post. I daydreamed of simpler times as I danced around my 1920's kitchen do you remember vertical hold! I miss those times and then I realized just how blessed I am to be taking care of my grandchildren this week. I can lollygag without guilt and take in some great simple moments. I watched my little grandaughter run around the yard for a half hour in the cutest mint green sundress and soft loose braid of golden hair. She squeeled each time she reached the fence with her ball and I sat back and took in the breeze so not to forget the moment. I have heard that if more than one of your senses catches the moment it will last forever!

So, I decided to take a picture of a room that rarely gets a picture because I wanted to catch the sweetest smelling breeze that just happened to be coming through that particular window! No screens so the dragonflies can come in and out!

I hope you'll catch a breeze today that will tickle you memories and then put on a smile will ya!

ARTIFICIAL SEASONS

2010-07-12T16:59:00.004-04:00

Ringlets like lassos wrapped around our necks and tangled in our fingers whilst we tried to free ourselves from the sweaty twines.
The soft cotton quilt bore comfort from the spiny golden blades of grass that made our knees embossed and itchy.
Time lingered as we tried to decipher animals in the puffy white clouds, and chewed on sour grass even when we were told not to.......
July meant hot and lazy.
You knew it was hot ...........when the sound of the heat bugs hummed for hours all through the day.
Dust blew hot in our faces if we tried to play any kind of game off the quilt, so we chose to have marathon monopoly games instead!

Once in a while we would turn the sprinklers on, but most often it was just a bucket of water, that we could soak our feet in, in order to cool off.

Supper was cold salads and maybe corn on the cob, my sister and I had dish washing chores, and the steam of the water would drip off our faces until they were finished, just in time for us to hear the bell of the ice cream truck on the next street over!
Nighttime brought no relief inside either so, we would spend the evening outside until the fireflies came out, or the mosquitoes drove us back in....
Then, I would lie on my bed and hope for a breeze from the open windows, and my eyelids would finally close until morning.

Today, I don't hear the heat bugs, or feel the soft cotton quilt on my back.....I barely run out to do an errand, and summer passes me by with the sound of a forecast on the television, and the constant whir of an air conditioning unit............... S T O P ! ! !

I took a ride to the waters edge this lunch time. I felt the HOT breeze on my face as my hair rustled against my neck, while I sat under the canopy of a midnight blue umbrella. Calypso music enveloped those breezes, and I enjoyed half of a turkey sandwich on wheat with my sister. I was living the day...a summers day of heat and sunshine. It felt good, and my toes were happy. A thought came to mind as I sat there talking, one that reminded me that this was nice.
I was taking the time to feel the season, instead of just living through the season.
I think our modern amenities have taken the joy of living out of living. Sure it may seem more comfortable but, is it really? If you think about it for a second you realize how artificial it has all become.
Life is quicker, and because of the automobile the scenery rushes by in a blur at 60 MPH .... and you don't hear the rhythmic calomp calomp of iron shoes to cobbled stones anymore.
The temperature never fluctuates in an air conditioned building, there are no opened windows to let in gentle sweet smelling breezes.
The scent of lilies, and rain can't permeate the stagnant air of a dehumidifier! Huuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuummmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm...........

Take a second or .......maybe you can take an hour or so this summer to LIVE the season, as uncomfortable as it may be, living it will make you feel alive!
Then ponder this.....what kind of memories do you think we will conjured up reminiscing about our air conditioners! :)

The Box

2010-07-01T09:13:00.000-04:00

Quiet fills the room and the cabinet beckons me again to be opened. Fingers fiddle with the latch because reverence has filled the heart. Inside the memories of a lifetime are carefully stored....

Each milestone in life holds a significance that should be stored away to be remembered on quiet days. The items may be in drawers or folders, or chests, or boxes but they are kept in special places different from all other places. Sort of like the heart of your life. Protected in a cage.

He was about 17 and innocent in spirit. Perfect in our eyes and respected in the eyes of strangers. He ALWAYS did the right thing. It was early morning that July day when he headed to work just before dawn. I heard the car door slam closed and the tires crunch up the stone driveway. I drifted back to sleep and was wakened with the sound of a screeching noise and waited....and then a thump. We sprang up out of bed barely touching the floor to get dressed and the phone rang...... "mom, dad the car is wrecked." Oh the sweet sound of his voice....

We had to go to court later that month for he was sited for reckless driving...... after all what was a 17 year old doing out so late/so early in the morning? No thought of his address being 1500 feet away or the wet grass clippings in the road. The police officer didn't believe he was a nice boy heading out to work.

The decision came down guilty and he was fined. My heart sank for now my innocent boy learned about corruption and lies.

I didn't realize then, because I too am naive, that lessons like that prepare a person for life, and that there would be a lot more unjust consequences in his life to come.

This week he was dealt another blow in poor judgement as he stood on stage on national TV and was judged for his work.

"TOO NICE" ....to finish first in CupCake Wars ....... too nice? that was the comment!

Well, I say BRAVO!!! I am proud that he is nice! That is who I raised and love and by golly I am proud that he is NICE!!!!!!

The newspaper articles and video tapes will all find their rest in the box that holds the tangible artifacts of the memories of his life, right along side the hood ornament of a car that saved it! His legacy to his children and grandchildren will be...... he was nice!

see more here

The Telephone

2010-06-24T08:10:00.000-04:00

"Hello Mary, can you please ring up my Aunt Alice for me.....thank you"

...when Iwas little we had no numbers on our phone. We would just pick it up and Mary would be on the other end and we would just ask her to get whom ever we wanted to speak to. Sometimes our neighbors were talking on the line so we would have to wait.

When I was 9 we moved into a NEW house with two doors! We got a NEW phone too and I learned all sorts of NEW numbers to call. The wall beside the phone had penciled numbers for those IMPORTANT people or for people we didn't call too often.

Oh how things change! LOL I have to laugh when I see how I am communicating to all of you. WOW! SO, this is how the converstaion went between me (green ink) and my daughter (blue ink) this morning with Colin (red ink) .......

8:15 a.m.

"Hi Mom" ... "hi honey" .... "I'll meet you today at 10:00 okay" ...

"oh boy I forgot, sure I'll see you at ten" ....

"so, mom this morning I asked Colin to get ready for camp and go up stairs to get dressed" ... "yes" ....

"and this is what I hear from the family room, ..... "Colin is not available at the moment , please leave a message, good bye"

......LOL

Enjoy your day! Colin is the little 6 year old guy on the right in my previous post!

NEW ENGLAND BLOGGERS CARNIVAL

2010-06-20T14:37:00.000-04:00

Hi everyone, thank you again for stopping by. I hope you are enjoying my stories. I know I enjoy sharing them with you. Today I am participating in a Blog Carnival hosted by Elizabeth at Thoughts from and Evil Overlord....I had to pick a blog that interested me on her New England Bloggers list so I chose this one and would like to invite you to visit this fabulous blog called

Cape Cod Rambling Rose, if you LOVE Cape Cod or just love the idea of New England at the seashore.

I am so impressed by this blogger for her strolls down memory lane, her fabulous photography of New England and her lovely gifts in her Etsy shop. Please take a minute to visit her and tell her you are stopping by because of "ME"! Here is a list of some lovely New England Bloggers for you to visit, whether you are a young mom, antique fancier, dreamer, photogrpher or if you have a passion for beauty....so please stop in to see all the goodies at Thoughts from an Evil Overlord. Have a nice Father's Day!

p.s. that is my grandson on the far right, these children all have special needs! They sure are enjoying their summer aren't they?.... I just love that little guy, he is "BIG" brother to the little curly blonde form yesterday's post!

The Ocean's Draw

2010-06-18T09:50:00.000-04:00

It is lucky for me that I am the oldest and get to sit at the window..... seatbelts were not invented yet so we all squeezed into the station wagon.

After check and re check of picnic baskets, and suitcases, the doors slammed shut and we off.

The sun beat down on my knees but the rushing air felt good on my face, and I was already dreaming of the week ahead. This was summer, and we were going to BREWSTER!

As we pulled off the main road to the dirt pathway we winded in and out between weather worn cottages and finally the crunch of seashells beneath the tires heralded that we were "THERE".

Doors swung open and children scattered and Grandma Porter unlocked the dark green door just in time for all of us to run beneath her into the warmth of that room. I am not talking about temperature warmth but life warmth. It smelled of memories and glowed in soft amber and gold with light dancing all around the walls from the glistening ocean just outside the sun porch.

The door to the sun porch was locked and we would have to wait a bit longer, but I could not! For I knew outside the door lay a beautiful, beautiful sun porch. Where panes and panes of glass sparkled clear and white wicker chairs waited with soft chintz pillows but the best part was what was the surprise there for us "girls". We were all squealing with anxious flutters for the door to be unlocked, and then all of a sudden it swung open and I smelled it! The scent of fresh paint. I knew it was going to be the best ever and it was...

there in each corner lie our favorite doll's beds. One for each of us! Freshly painted in brand new colors, with brand new lamb decals on the head board and brand new baby doll sheets and blankets. I carefully took my baby and lay her down...all was good and summer was in full glory.

Each year we would spend my mother's August birthday in a cottage, high on a bluff over looking the ocean in Brewster, MA. There would be no TV and no telephone, there would be no hot water for baths except on Saturday night when Theron would come to light the stove. Grandma Porter would carry a bucket of hot water from the well on the stove and put it into the tub for all of us to bathe. All the other days we needed to use the outside shower and the cold water made my skin hurt.

There was a lace cloth on the table that gleamed in the bright sunlight each morning where we would all gather to discuss the fun for the day. The english muffins always tasted the best and the juice was squeezed right at the table from oranges we had brought in our baskets. I could see the flats outside the window and couldn't wait for all of us to "get ready" because that meant we were off to explore and find treasures on the flats. It was fun to watch the squirts from clams as you walked along the ridges, and we were always watching for jelly fish, to this day I don't know if they are bad or not, but they still make me leery.

It amazes me that today, 50 years later I can still recall the details and colors of that time long ago. Memories that are significant in our lives hold those colors in our hearts and they do not fade like the weather worn cottages. I hope I can create special memories for my grandchildren....one's that will be colorful enough for them to hold in their hearts for a lifetime.....enjoy your summer day today! Look at the colors of the sun........

The Computer.....and

2010-06-14T04:58:00.000-04:00

This umbilical cord sits prominently on my desk. It is the lifeline to my existence. At least it feels that way.

It makes you think....doesn't it?

Is is scary? Is it unreal? Are you lost when, for one second you think it has crashed? Do you panic if you can't get to it?

It doesn't matter what size it is, or what name is on the metal edging. It is STILL the umbilical cord to our communication, whether it is a computer, laptop, notebook, iPhone, or whatever the genre it has become our life!
The particular model that sits on my desk seen here in the photograph, has all my friends, money, contacts, bills, important data, and LIFE in it! Palpitations are beginning to ebb and flow as I think of JUST WHAT I KEEP in that little do~hickie. My goodness, I'd be lost without it.

I wouldn't know one email address, because they aren't in my memory bank where they used to be kept, never to be hacked!
I wouldn't know one phone number, well maybe a few, but what about all the newbie ones I have...and....
What about all my special notes from awesome hearts that have, for a moment in time connected with mine?
The one's I have a special folder for, to hold them in that special place, in case I NEED them?
You know the folder aka Favorite Place, the one named special!!!!
Where would I go to get those back if they were forever gone from this scary place?

....AND how would I ever have cjane's comment?

YIKES!!!!! That is a scary scenario! I would need a ream of paper to print all those special notes and comments out.... but ......

then I think they would no longer BE special if they were actually printed out.
After all, I could have just typed those words myself, who would know if they were real or not.
It isn't the same as a handwritten note! It's just ink on printing paper.
At least as a comment on a blog they have feeling, and a font, and the exclamation of the author.

After you print out those words they just become disconnected words.... flat.... no life....empty.

Thus the dilemma....... do we remain at the mercy of the machine, and pray it is always there to hold our treasured messages, or do we go back to the pen written, heartfelt prose that we can hold in our hands, to touch and feel, or can we just throw it all up to chance and relish the moments that we have when all of our UMBILICAL CORDS CONNECT, even if it is just for a moment in time. Will the experience be BIG enough for us to hold on to, to hold on to in our mortal memories, to hold on to and keep in our hearts forever? Will it be big enough to be special? .....

The Pantry Cupboard

2010-06-11T08:59:00.001-04:00

this 1920's house has LOTS of storage...a place for everything...and everything in it's place.

I am the oldest child.........it was my 12th birthday, the aroma of scrambled hamburg and onions frying in the Cast Iron Skillet filled the small 10 x 10 kitchen where all seven of us had assembled to eat supper. We all knew "OUR" seat and had to be seated and remain still, so mom could maneuver around the stove and place the bowls on the table. We were hungry and couldn't wait until we finished grace to pass the bowls..... "pass to the left" dad would always say!

I can see the bowl, as it passed from one hand to the next it started to tip...hands all in a flurry.....and then crash.....hamburg and onions all over the floor. Our faces were pictures of terror and then one by one we all began to laugh....... and it became a memory!

Funny the memories....... big or small....... that you hold in your heart in perfect technicolor....I went looking for that cast iron fry pan that my mother used to scramble hamburg in today, to use as a photograph for this post, .......... I cannot find it.

June 12th is my sister's birthday and although she may not have the memory of the spilled hamburg in her heart I hope she will keep the memory of a Happy Birthday tribute to her written on the internet.

She is two years younger than I, so she is my little sister.....not my baby sister, which I do have, but my buddy sister...because we were always together, playing like friends. That was then.....

and today, life goes on like a whirlwind each part of the family breaking off to create another. Lived in parallels intersecting from time to time, but busy, busy with life.

Well, it has been a long time since I made a big deal about my sister's birthday, so today I will. Even though she is a beloved principal in an elementary school, she is still my little sister......so HAPPY HAPPY BIRTHDAY DEBBIE! I wish you ...laughter....!

OH.....and which one of you little kids have MY Cast Iron Skillet?!!!!!

The Medicine Cabinet

2010-06-09T13:19:00.000-04:00

I wasn't going to go to open the door when I heard the antique buzzer ring. It was 1:30 and I rarely if ever get company. Plus my head was throbbing and my face was streaked in black. Crying had made my eyeliner run and my nose red. I could barely see from behind my swollen eyes. I took a little hidden peek from my office wall, and only saw the surprise and that made it all worse.

I knew this day would come, but I didn't expect it on a day when I felt refreshed and happy. I expected more notice, more notice so I could prepare and not be affected. It was not to be. The emotions that over took my inner depths reeled me into despair. I felt stupid, and silly but could not help the waves from crashing. As I began to panic more and more I felt worse and worse. I could not keep the feelings, and the thoughts of 50 years from flooding my heart. So, I just went with them. I went with them so I could let them go....and after I let them go I would be able to pick myself up and decide what to do from here on......

I thought about calling my daughter first, and then my son. Maybe I should call my son first? Then I would have to call my husband.....but I had just made a promise to him. I promised to send him to work the next day with a gift for a customer. Do I take that back or do I honor it? I know in my heart I don't want to honor it, but it is the right thing I made a promise....but if I honor the promise I will lose what is so important to me......I begin to cry more.

As I peer out into the kitchen and through the window, that is aligned with my back door, I see pink! I am confused at first and then quickly realize I am seeing roses. How appropos. Beautiful Pink Roses.

My mind is whirring and spinning with thoughts of the reality that someone has sent them to me, but I have a hope and a prayer that they are a message from someone far greater, letting me know that all is fine. After all, in the scheme of things this to do is so unimportant. As I write this I do not know what the roses are for, or from whom they were sent. I can guess, but why would I be getting roses? The timing was MORE significant to me for right now, and I thought sometimes you just need an angel. I am pretending that is what they are all about, of course I will know what it is really about after I post this story...but for now I need to pretend.

Okay, I am sorry and apologize for concerning you with this saga, and now I must confess why I am in such a state. You will probably hate me and think I am an absolute idiot but, it is me and that is what my blog is all about. It is about the inner workings of a 50+ mature woman who at the moment isn't very mature.....so this is my confession.

My childhood was awesome and full of scrapes and cuts. Each one tenderly administered to by my mother or father. I once got run over by a bicycle and yet the soothing salve that my mom put on all the scraped burns made me feel just fine. Over time that salve came to my home when I was a new bride and it heeled the burns from learning to cook, and soothed my new husbands blisters from raking. As my children grew up they became familiar to it's odor, and were immediately relieved when their cuts were treated in the same loving way, as mine had been when I was young. My grandchildren now ask all of us.... mom, dad, nunnie and papa for "tundia and bambaid" whenever they are hurt. We all look at each other with connected smiles, because we know the tradition has passed to another generation!

Today that has all come to an end......Obtundia is no where to be found! Otis Clapp had been sold in 2008 without fanfare, or even notice for us to stock up! The new owners Medique, have discontinued the production of what was a vital thread in our family's quilt, without a care of knowing the reprecussions of what that would mean to us.

I now have to make the phone calls to my family. We will all take care when using our last tube of obtundia remembering all the times before, when all of our lives from four generations were interconnected. Who would have ever thought that one small product would be so instrumental in our lives. Who would have thought I would feel this way.

As for the flowers? Well they were from my husband, he is my angel , and it was he who sent me the beautiful flowers....what perfect timing!

The Pantry

2010-06-08T12:18:00.000-04:00

Well, I haven't been writing "the backyard door" for very long, but I have come to see that life has seasons. Not only the ones that the weather heralds in, but the kind of seasons that life heralds in!

I have had an adventure this month writing this blog, and I have stumbled upon some great blogs written by some very talented people. One sense keeps coming to mind while I visit, and it is the idea of interludes. They are found in the beautiful photographs I have seen, the beautiful homes and gardens that I admire, and in the beautiful words I have read, telling the stories of the seasons in one's life.

Some of the finds have brought me to realize that I have actually led a charmed life..... now it maybe not be the Social Climbing of Newport, or in the Political Circle of Washington, nor even the glitzy Celebrity of Hollywood, (like my son is about to embark) but certainly in the Delisciousness of being Donna.

My seasons have been blessed with all the humble bounties of wifery and motherhood and the milestones of life, but it does not end there, I have also tasted dessert!

Once, I watched Wynona Ryder, Christina Ricci, and Cher as they were filming Mermaids in the backyard of one of the houses I lived in! Then, hubby and I were on the local tv evening news journal show Chronicle, telling our story of what it was like to downsize, only to own two homes the following year teeheeeheeee! Of course, there was the time that I am most proud of, and that was when This Old House Magazine picked up our home to do an article on my 1920's kitchen renovation. Those are the fun seasons!

Of course there were the difficult seasons too, when being a mom and wife and grandmother means watching and feeling the pain of the one's you love. I reflect on those seasons as well and I know that without the winters freeze I will not have springs glory. I feel that my most beautiful seasons are those when my life is the hardest, for the best lessons are learned there, and the desserts are the sweetest!

As time passes we may forget the desserts we have had over the years especially, when today's lunch seems much the same as yesterday's. So perhaps you need to grasp the day and have a strawberry shortcake, savoring the taste that you know will only be here for a short season, and as you taste that splendor you can reflect on those special seasons when you tasted life's sweet desserts, even when lunch was peanutbutter and jelly!

The Lawn

2010-06-07T09:12:00.000-04:00

I never really looked at a mushroom up close in the face before, because for me they represented a pristine manicured lawn gone bad. Today I awoke to that lawn.

The longer I observed the unkempt appearance of the lawn, the more intrigued I became! Our landscape had taken on a magical, whimsical "not to be overlooked" kind of appeal.

In fact, I believe the fairies were convening their convention at that very moment!

....... right before my very eyes, like a field of white flowers, lay MUSHROOMS! I don't mean just a few singletary mushrooms, but lots of mushrooms!

THERE jockeying for a spot on the emerald green carpet, lie your everyday mushrooms, ........the ones that are sort of like me. The kind that almost disappear and fade into the background in a crowd, but the same kind that will make a statement when aligned with others of "like" interests.

Then there were those more brilliant mushrooms, like the soldiers above. They were like gladiators. Strong, substantial and secure in there postitions. Forged with armor, shoulder to shoulder with their counterparts. Ready to defend their right to be in the lawn.

Finally, there were these. For me they were the ones that had caught my curiousity and wonder. They were the delicate ,whisper fragile, fairy caps. Some still like unopened parasols and others displaying glorious canopies. Cloud white and soft as dew, they stood quietly. I find myself in a fantasy with the idea of such beautiful little specimens. I take notice, and while I take their picture, they begin to whilt and whither away in a moment, just as the brightness of the day begins to immerge.

So, I quickly try to capture them in this glorious spectacle that is all their own early on this morning........

but tomorrow is gardening day!

THEY will become my nemesis!

The battle to destroy will begin........

The Mud Room

2010-06-04T06:43:00.000-04:00

House needs A iring.

Bathroom needs B leaching.

Litter Box needs C hanging.

Clothes need D rying.

the list is E NDLESS.

Yet I find myself this morning over whelmed with what to do. The A,B,C's of life are sometimes just too difficult to maneuver.

In the back of my mind I think my life is ready for a change. For those who know me that means "move"! Like move out of this house and into another. I have "moved" at least 7 times with short intervals in between but, this house has been comfortable for over 10 years. It has a life, a life I felt as soon as I moved in. I was in love with it and still am, but I am not happy with how all the "stuff" has accumulated.

I now know why I have moved so many times in the past, it was so I woudn't have all this "stuff" pile up and take root! Oh my goodness....where to begin!

Life changes ........

Don't you feel sometimes you just need to air out your being? Empty the closets? Clean the clutter? Release the junk! Move on? Yup.....today is a good day for that. I'll think of rearranging the house another day... because today needs my attention to the little details and the A, B, C's of "me".

A ttitude sweetened (do something nice for someone)

B ody condensed (work on my diet)

C reativity milk ed (enjoy some playtime)

Daydream (make promises for the future)

E nergy exhilerated.... ahhhhhh..........all is well and in order and happiness pervails....now where is that mop!

The Perennial Garden

2010-06-01T09:56:00.000-04:00

Once in a while something makes you stop short when it sparks a sense of wonderment filled with pure joy. Just like a whisper as loud as a crack you are jolted into feeling something awesome.
You'll recognize that feeling because it is so comfortable, you'll know it's familiarity, you'll know it because, it happens only once in a while and becomes significant.......

The pleasure is fascinating, making it almost too difficult to put into words...

My "black garden" is like that. It is on the opposite side of my house so I have to remember to stop and look at it. It is not something that I just pass everyday. I have to consciously go around the house to see it. It is filled with wonderful colors of deep maroons and black and midnight green with just a sprinkle of delicate pink and white.
It is AWESOME for sure! But, it lasts for only a fleeting moment in time and then sleeps..... it is because it is gone so quickly and it is because the flowers fade lickity split, that I pause and stop short, to take in all it's wonder each spring.

It is a perennial garden after all .....always there but sometimes hidden.

So often the moments in life are like that perennial garden, gone so quickly and sometimes never seen. An extraordinary event should not be the only reason

to stop and appreciate each day.

Memorial Day Thank You

2010-05-31T09:11:00.000-04:00

The cool breeze was annoying on my arms as I stood waiting for the first glimpse of the police motorcycle coming around the corner on Washington Street. In that half hour of waiting I looked at the faces that stopped in the sidewalk to say "good morning Bea" or "how are you feeling today Lois?" and "my these children have grown so big!". My grandmother would go into a long story, my Aunt Lois would try to keep us children amused and grandpa just sat on the porch in his chair with an occasional ahhhyaa in his mainer way! Oh how I miss that tradition.

It was Memorial Day and that heralded the beginning of summer and fun. My sister and I always wanted to wear a summer dress all starched and swirly on that day, thus the reason for the uncomfortable breeze that stung my arms. It seemed to be sunny each memorial day but sometimes it was only 50 degrees and my grandmother's side of the street was in the shade, from the large maple trees that lined the street. I imagined that the breeze was God's way of dispersing all of the helicopter seedlings that flew from the branches in those trees. We would make funny noses with them while we waited for the parade to round the corner.

Then! There it was, the sound of the motorcycle with blue flashing lights and the silly back and forth curves it made across the street because it needed to do so for balance from going so slowly! We'd all shout "Mom , mom the parade is coming! and all the adults would come out from indoors and settle themselves on the porch to watch. My favorite part was when the troops of the different parts of the military would pass by. The adults would stand up and place their hand across their hearts in honor. I especially like the soldiers dressed in antique uniforms.... because dad would pipe in "I saw a civil war soldier walk this parade" he was 12 when that occurred. I didn't know the significance of that then. But in a child's ear it stayed until I could know the significance.

It is the traditions that we all hold in our hearts that keep the bonds from generation to generation, from war to war, from value to value. It is so important and we must hold on to the traditions and pass them down for all of us to remember. Today I will stand on the sidewalk at 984 Washington Street with my grandchildren in front of what used to be my grandmothers house. The maple trees are gone now for safety, and granite curbing is a cold reminder of how hearts change, but my heart still swells with pride when I see the police motorcycle round the corner ushering the parade towards me!

Happy Memorial Day everyone.... and God Bless America, and God Bless our Troops!

COMPUTER ROOM / OFFICE

2010-05-28T07:07:00.000-04:00

...................................................................................before

Okay, before I get in too far with this new blog I need to confess!

I am addicted to blogging....okay I have admitted it....now what to do about it?

For many of us blogging has become a way of life. I know.....we do not WANT to admit it but it is true. Today I wrote three posts ...that means I am really, really bad. It used to be just once a week and then once a day and NOW THREE TIMES a day......that is carazzzy.

So, just to prove to you (and me) that this is a problem let me refer to the room in the picture above....yup I know....see the laundry? Well, it got up one flight of stairs but, just as I passed the door to my office I HAD to put it down for a second, and stop in to check my email. Maybe, Shelia, or Debbie, or Leanne, or even a relative, or even cjane or Nie Nie wrote me a message!

The next thing I know, that laundry sits in limbo for days................ until ...... STOP!

Do any of you remember Susan Powter? Well, she would always say in a most exuberant voice loud enough for bats to hear..........Stop the Insanity....so I have! Well, for at least yesterday!

................................................................................after

Ahhhhhhhhhhhh.... see my office now? Much better. My laundry is put away, and the room is cleaned and organized, and I feel productive. I even went OUTSIDE to walk in my garden.

I felt the fresh air and sunshine, I picked some flowers. I visited and laughed with my grandchildren who were.....ahhhhhhhhhhhhhh WONDERFUL!!!!!!! That's another story for another day! I kidnapped my daughter, sans children and took a drive over the Bourne bridge to Cape Cod and had a tea party lunch, after which we visited a book shop. Life is meant to have lots of detours.....so don't miss out on the fun! GET AWAY FROM THE COMPUTER!!!!!!!!

That was yesterday, today......I blog!

ENJOY your day, get outside and feel the sunshine, then come back and leave me a note ;)

Wicker Chair

2010-05-25T13:33:00.000-04:00

Nilda Hall was a round, aproned lady with pretty tie heels. She lived with her husband Edgar next door to me when I was 5. She had a television set with a small round screen and a piano that we were always allowed to play when we came calling. The sun shone pretty in her sitting room and we were careful to sit nicely on her divan or crosslegged on the floor. Her house was special, with a dining room, and turning stairway that led to a second floor! Her kitchen had a door that was always closed and Mr. Hall had his own chair!

Outside, her yard was magical with flowers, and lattice and a drying yard. I dreamed under her 100 year old maple tree and hugged it! I can still feel the bark.... my little fingers caressing the hollows and finding ants between the furoughs......

Today I reflect and remember my five year old mind taking all of that in. I knew it was special. We lived in an apartment with one door and a few rooms. The closest thing we had to a garden was an apple tree and wooden swing. Being at Mrs. Hall's was like a fairy tale. I loved the feel of her oriental carpets under my knees, and the lace curtains in the windows. Her porch was welcoming and had the best fluffy cushions. She even had some fun flowers that we would pop called Japanese Lanterns. She didn't like us doing that, but for being five it was irresistable, until I had to go over by myself to apologize for snapping them. She just smiled with such warmth.

Even though I do not "dress" for the day, I am almost that woman. Wouldn't it be fun to dress like that again. To make each day special and neat. Time was slower then. Softer. Kinder. Holier. As I look around my home it makes me laugh to see where I am. Although I have had many beautiful homes during my married life, this is my favorite. I have only lived here ten years but it seems like forever.

This house was in my soul as soon as I walked in and viewed it that first day. No one could understand why I would want it. It was almost 100 years old and needed so much work. I would not hear any of their comments and moved into it 30 days later. Today, as I sit at my desk with not a sound but the tapping of my computer keys I am bathed in the sunlight that hit Mrs. Hall's telephone table. A slight breeze billowing my lace curtains in soft furls. An oriental rug is comforting below my bare feet, and I can just catch a glimpse of the turning stairway that leads upstairs. I think I will sit on my porch......

dreams of a five year old under a wise old maple tree do come true..........

A Sunday Blessing

2010-05-23T09:26:00.000-04:00

Sunday guilt has plagued me for years, do you have the same feeling? I grew up in a very strict "religious" home, where we said grace before each meal and no matter who was at our home when it was time for the "little kids" to go to bed, we all excused ourselves and got on our knees and prayed our nightly prayers. Sometimes the guests were even asked to join us. When I was in my mid teens it was quite embarrassing, but mandatory none the less.

Sunday was always a dress up day, which included church and a big dinner and visiting relatives. Stores were not open, stories were shared and a ride around town and an ice cream were sometimes a treat in the late afternoon! Sunday was not just the last day of the weekend back then, Sunday was special!

Those days are far behind me, and now I rarely go to a traditional church, never have a shared Sunday dinner, and the stories my relatives told are faint memories, but I find myself far more spiritual today then I ever was then. Today Sunday's remind me to......

...Slow Down

...Remember the Lord

...Feed My Soul

... and Exude Grace

A Woodland Garden Surprise and......

2010-05-21T18:10:00.000-04:00

backyard door garden guests......6:00 p.m. and my routine for the day is over. I got a chance to be by the ocean today one of my favorite places to be quiet. I returned home to finish up my day and shut down the computer to begin my evening.
I stepped into my vintage kitchen and returned a glass to the sink as I glanced out the window the shadows on the lawn drew me into the woodlands edge. A sharp contrast of white peeked out of the deep green foliage and I took a double take.
The white and lilac of a flower I did not plant, but had been set in seed some time when I didn't see by something I didn't see, to bring forth an unexpected sense of wonder now!
You never know what words you utter in a passing phrase to a friend, or what whispers you pray into the ears of a young child may be the beginnings of a dream or promise.
You may never see the listener from behind who hears your conversation, just as you may not have seen the ant or aphid in my garden. So be vigiliant to say what is pure on your heart! For words are the seeds to a garden hidden with unseen treasures that bring forth great abundance.

The Door Bell

2010-05-19T18:21:00.001-04:00

Life begins in pure essence that persues direction over time and never seems to actually have a direction until you turn around and view it from where you have been.
These days my mind is filled with thoughts I never had as a younger woman and yet they are just as confusing and worrisome as the thoughts I had back then. Being young, you worry about how you look to others and undoubtedly what others think of you. As your path unwinds, and you mature that doesn't seem to be quite an issue as it once was.
Until now...
In my forties I was content. I had moved beyond vanity and became oh so comfortable in my skin and heart. I thought life would remain like that forever or at least for a lifetime. Experience should have echoed.... WHY? After all I had learned valuable lessons throughout my life's journey and the most important lesson learned, was this.... "nothing ever stays the same". Change is ever lurking and always present. Why then could I not recognize that in this stage of my life?
I AM changing...
The skin on my hands has begun to sag and wrinkle. My hands themselves no longer move in graceful waves of beauty, they are constant reminders of the change my life is taking all too soon for my comfort. I even realized it has nothing to do with exercise or diet. Hands get enough exercise everyday being the givers in life's pleasures,and healing, and comforts, and happiness. Long before now, I had given up on the quick footed girl I once was and resigned myself to the crackling of joints, the graying of hair, the lack luster of skin, the loss of clear sight and the list goes on, but my hands, the expression of my work and joy have now begun to betray me as well. I see them in everything I do, so they are constant reminders of what life used to be and what it is now.
Life has a chosen path and the reality of where I am going has begun to sink deep into my soul, but I will not know the full meaning of the direction in which it will travel until long from now, when I turn around and see where I have been.
How blessed I am to see the differences in my hands. They resonate the growth and change in my life and mirror those other changes that dwell in my heart. I pray the changes I see in my hands are parallels to the changes in my soul.