Think, Thunk, Thought...

Have you ever had a thought.
A persistent thought.
A naggingly persistent thought.
A goading, naggingly persistent thought...

As you might well imagine, I have had such a thought get into my head and set up camp.
At first I wasn't sure what to do with this thought. But it didn't give a hoot. 
Its the ruminating sort you see.

Being a quietly recurring thought was getting it no where, so it kicked it up a notch last night. Talking over the Walkman plugged snugly into my head, it started out slow, then started to grow, (I've watched the Grinch a lot this week, does it show?).
I fell asleep with it gnawing on my mind. I woke with it still firmly in place.
So being the tenuous person I am, I have decided to give it the voice it has been longing for.
It is a frightening thing to do.
To make changes.
Even slight ones.
To trust the unknown.
But this thought has pushed me to the cliff's edge and the only way to go now is to stand still or to awkwardly gracefully leap and just pray it looks more like a swan dive than a belly flop...

The thought you might ask... Its time to make changes, to listen to my instincts, my vibes, my intuition, my heart, and change up my blog.

It may take a while to get her going, but it is the works even as you read this.
In the mean time, May you have a Merry Christmas and a very Happy New Year!!

 

Waiting For Christmas

The Day Before Christmas
~Anon
We have been helping with the cake,
And licking out the pan,
And wrapping up our packages,
As neatly as we can.
We have hung our stockings up,
Beside the open grate.
And now there's nothing more to do,
Except
To
Wait.

Waiting is by far the hardest thing to do when it comes to Christmas.

Especially when your a little person with 'Wish Book Dreams' dancing around in your head.

We spend a lot of time watching for Elf foot prints around the window sill's, speculating on such important topic's as,

'Did you know that Elves can talk to cat's and dogs?!'.,

'Can I add just oneeee more thing to my Santa letter, even if I already mailed it?',

"Frosty and the Grinch, are not friends. But I think they both like dogs.",

'Do you think I can open two presents on Christmas Eve this year?'

All the Christmas song's are sung, then sung again. Sampling the goodies and making "Christmas Surprises" is starting to make our tummy's hurt a little.

Then when everyone is home from work, and the darkness of early night begins to encroach... The warmth and magic comes alive with all the lights and music and laughter shared, and the Christmas  watching ritual's begin anew....

Yes, I think the waiting for Christmas Day to come, is the hardest part about Christmas...

Once you have everything taken care of that is!

I've Been Waiting for Christmas
~Anon

I've been waiting for Christmas,
And it's almost here.
I've been waiting for Christmas,
Santa's getting near.

Can't you hear the sleigh bells ringing?
Reindeer up so high.
Can't you hear the children singing,
As they watch the sky?

The Grinch (exerpt) ~Dr Seuss

And the Grinch, with his Grinch-feet ice cold in the snow,
Stood puzzling and puzzling, how could it be so?
It came without ribbons. It came without tags.
It came without packages, boxes or bags.
And he puzzled and puzzled 'till his puzzler was sore.
Then the Grinch thought of something he hadn't before.
What if Christmas, he thought, doesn't come from a store?
What if Christmas, perhaps, means a little bit more?

Just Thinking...



Thanks Giving traditions are as varied as families who gather together.

I remember the first Thanks Giving I spent with Honey's family.

I had never seen so much food in one place!

The tables stretched the length of three room's and places were set so close together I wasn't sure there would even be elbow room.

The thing that is still the picture that is recalled to my mind is seeing Honey's mom, feet propped on a chair, sitting at the kitchen table, piled high with bags of bread. There she sat, breaking the bread for stuffing and putting it all in a thirty gallon plastic "stuffing can"!

I was used to a much smaller affair.

My favorite part was that Mom would make her family famous Parker House Rolls, and cranberry sauce.

I miss my parent's and grand parents a lot at this time of year.

In my thoughts. my heart goes home often this time of year... I'm off to make some cranberry sauce.



This year the cooking of the Thanks Giving dinner baton is being passed to the next generation.

That makes me happy.

Shoveling Snow

You know a sound that I really miss when it snows?

My Grampa's coal shovel.

Used so much the edges of it curled up at the corner's. That is what he used, he used it day or night. It's scrapping sound resonated through the neighborhood when ever any amount of snow began to accumulate.

At night I'd sometimes peek out the upstairs curtain's and watch him, working with the same steady methodical rhythm he used when he watered the lawn in the summer time.

He had routine's about such things.

He loved to be outside.

And he loved us.

That is the message that was carried through the night on the grating sound of shovel against cement...

Now we have plastic shovels with a little strip of metal, snow blower's and plow's..

Yet when it snows.

Especially at night.

I still listen for Grampas' coal shovel.

Mmmm...Soup

I love when the seasons change. In the past they changed at just the right time's. You had a nice period in between to get used to the idea before it actually did change all the way.
Now a day's it seems like it happens over night, and that can be pretty hard on a body!


It brings out a lot more of the colds and flu's and general icky stuff. The coughing, can't sleep kind.

So it comes as no surprise to me that soup's come to mind for dinner's.
Homemade soup always makes you feel better. I don't know why, I just know that it does.


So we have been making a lot of soup's and homemade bread. We were introduce this past week to butter dipped bread stick's and may I just say...Yummy!!!


I suggest that while we all try to nurse ourselves and loved one's through the gom-boos of illness' the changing weather seems to have brought with it, we consider soup!

Wendy got me Terri's mom's Potato Soup recipe

Peel and Chop: 8 large potatoes, 3 large carrots, 1 yellow onion, 3 stalks celery.

Add: 2 chicken bouillon cubes, 1/2 Tbsp. salt, 1 Tbsp. parsley flakes, 5 cups water, 1/4 tsp. pepper. Boil until tender (30-40 minutes). Stir in 1/3 cup butter and 1 can evaporated milk. Heat through. Sprinkle with grated cheese and serve.



Kids, Kitty"s & Colds

Almost everyone at our house is in different stages of colds. I say almost, because so far (knock on wood) I'm doing good.

Colds in noses, colds in chest's, colds in the kitchen where they spread easier. So Its break out the Clorox to wipe counter's, door knobs and chairs time of year.

I am a believer in Echinacea, I have taken it every school season for years and I have been lucky enough to not get sick often, and if I do, it doesn't hit hard or last long.

Years ago a nurse told me that if you start taking it just before cold and flu season, stop a week before Christmas break, then start taking it again at least 5 days before you go back to school. I tried it, I pass it on to you.

Kids and kitty's. Kitty's and kids.

They have so much energy!

I often wish I could have just a little of the energy they have. But would it make me more worn out?

Playing together yesterday under the pine tree's was a great way to spend an autumn morning.

She wanted to bring the little black and white guy home with her, but alas... Old cat's are not always nice to kitty's, and we have an OLD ornery cat that lives at our house.

I know. Because when we got home she followed Tiny Dancer's every footstep into the house, smelling and sniffing. Later when we went out back to play? Old and ornery Pooka would not even look in Tiny Dancer's direction. She would not speak to her, and I believe, she may have even  given a raspberry in her general direction when her back was turned.

Maybe today she will be forgiven?

The Prefectness Of Fall...

If I were to describe to you the perfectness of Autumn, it would go something like this:

     The perfectness of Autumn is more a feeling than an actual thing.

     I think of the perfectness of Autumn as the first day it feels like Fall. You know, the day the very air itself changes... it is cooler, the air smells crisp and the tree's are changing color. The peaches are on and the apples are in, you start seeing flower's you never noticed before.

     Its' when you want the Fall smells, colors, as well as tastes to be everywhere. The smell of fresh peach pies, apple scrapples, home baked bread and soup.

     It's sitting out on the porch and talking with friend's and family, laughing and remembering. It's a time to begin to gather together to reminisce about the 'old day's'.

It's the day you put the warmer quilts back on the bed. Pull out the sweater's and slipper's, while putting the summer clothes away. It's the time to start working on afghan's, quilts, and things to help keep you warm in the working.
     It's the smell of burning ditch banks, the sound of laughing children playing in the leaves.
     The time when you do your canning. I like doing peaches and tomatoes best! Both bring a flood of happy memories.
     Its going for strolls in the evening, holding the hand of someone you love, while enjoying the things that the summer has left, the flower garden's, the bailed fields, the changing mountain colors.
     It is the best time of year!

Sign's of Fall Around Here

I thought I would take this opportunity to show you a few of the signs of Fall around our house...

I love to see natures art, like these leaf prints we get in the driveway;

I was a little surprised to see a big old bumble bee still out collecting on an overcast day.
It was fun to watch him going systematically to each of the few remaining flowers;

It also looks like our fat ol cat, Pooka, has been storing up for the cold months ahead.
As you can see she isn't starved...for attention or food. Exercise seems to be a four letter word to her. We'll work on that.

I enjoy driving around and looking at how people decorate their yards and houses. This is one of my every season favorites.

I love to see Fall out in all her colors and coolness.

Thinking and Looking

You know, I've been pondering of late.

Thinking quit deeply.

Ruminating and reflecting.

About many of the experiences I've had throughout my life, as well as some of the experiences others have shared with me.

And do you know what?

Sometimes life sucks.

But here's the kicker...

While life can be mentally, emotionally and physically draining...

It can be interlaced with beauty, but sometimes we need to look for it harder than other times.

Like this peach tree for instance...

It's fruit came later this year due to a cooler climate than normal for this area.
So while this little tree has had more of a struggle to produce it's fruit, or accomplish the things it is meant to do to feel productive, the climate has not slowed the growth of the weeds and tall grasses that have overtaken the ground, sapping some of the tree's needed resources. No sir-e bob, they have been thriving.
Never once noticing the struggle of the peach tree as it carries on day in and day out.
An interesting thing to notice about the little tree though...look there, nestled against its base, spreading both upward around the tree, as well as out into the tall grasses, creating a bit of a water shed effect with it's lush thickness, is a flower.
A purple petunia.

As I noticed the quiet little flower there I began to look around at the surrounding trees in the orchard and noticed that, each tree had a flower at its base.
I asked the proprietor about this to which she replied, "I just thought that if a little flower could help make me happy, it could help make my orchard happy too."

This tied in with the things I have been contemplating of late.
Sharing.
Sharing the good things and the bad things.
Sharing the joys, laughter, and smiles. But also sharing the tears, fears, weights, and hard parts of life.
Sharing can be a seemingly un-noticed flower at our feet bringing us the possibility of finding beauty, even in the hardest parts of life.

Finding The Peaceful Things...*sigh*

Sometimes the peaceful things in life are hard to find...unless you look around.
I have been on a peace finding quest for a while and I do believe I'm starting to get the hang of it.
I would love to go to some far off destination, but alas and alack, tis not in my immediate future, and I am totally ok with that.
So it is closer to home that I must search for the peaceful things.
Sometimes the peaceful things come...
Just outside your door...

Is It Fall?

It felt like Fall came two weeks ago Thursday at 5 p.m.

The air is beginning to turn crisp, bringing along a sudden longing for the smell of baking apples, and warm bread.

Trouble is...I like the coolness inside the house with the window's open right now much better than I like the smell of warm bread.

Honey and I have begun to put things to bed until next Summer.

The time for swimming pools and kayaking is drawing to a close.

With talk of flower beds and garden's discussing the successes and failure's of each.

Isn't a zucchini plant suppose to be able to feed a small country by itself?

Not ours the past two years...Why we have been lucky to get ten off of them. And that is a sad thing as we like it deep fried, stuffed and in with other summer time meals. I am very grateful to have a sister in law who has been sharing the bounty of their garden with us.

The marigolds have been busy, the children intrigued by them, they have been very happy to help harvest the numerous seeds they bring once they dry.... 

It did feel like Fall came two weeks ago Thursday at 5 p.m., bringing with it my strong wishes for a very lengthy Indian Summer. 

My Dream House

What is your idea of a dream house?

Lots of people dream of a big fancy house with all the right amenities while outside there are plenty of  gardens to wander, or a cabin in the mountains with very few neighbor's a pond to fish from while the horses amble about in the adjacent pasture...

Mine would be a little different than most I think.

My dream house is a little different than the ideas of most. You see I would like a little place that could house all my crafts, with room enough for a couple of big cozy over stuffed chair's and ottoman.

I've drooled over many a plan, searched through many a picture of shed's turned to back yard sanctuary, I have racked up ideas galore, in the event that I should wake up one day and all of Honey's previous To-Do's have all turned to Ta-Da's.

While many have caught my eye, none have caught my imagination quit as firmly as has the little two room that sits at the edge of my in-laws property...

It was used by the previous owner's as a sort of drag about dog house. When ever the Mr. was in the Mrs. bad graces, he would hitch up the house to his tractor then pull this little house, that he had conveniently built on sled's, to a spot on the property, either near of far, depending on the heat coming from the big house. Then when he was out of hot water, back he would come, parking the dog house at the edge of the property for the next time it may be needed...

I freely admit that the first time I saw this little house, I was plotting ways to take it home in the back seat of my car and place it in my own back yard, near a fountain with a pond, complete with a cute little front porch built onto it with two rocking chairs for morning and evening rocking... 



Yes, my freshly painted little white Dream House would have overflowing baskets of hanging flowers along the little wrap around porch, which would be lined with an intricate lathe turned railing. Housing two big comfortable cain seated rocker's in the front, while an antique ice cream table with a couple of chairs rested along the side.
Lace curtains would be seen peeking from inside the vinegar washed windows, gently blowing in the cooling breezes allowed in through each half screened portal. The gingerbread bedecked screen door protecting from the intrusion of unwanted insect guests as much as possible.

While inside the brightly painted interior, two cozy overstuffed's would invite you to come sit near the cook stove where the hot cocoa and fresh bread await us in winter, or in summer to hold our iced glasses of homemade lemonade, sandwiches and patterns, while putting our feet up to do handiwork, sketching and chatting.
Across the room would be a quilt recently 'put on', waiting for the 'girl's' to gather for a good old fashioned 'Bee' later on...
Through the door you would find three wall's lined floor to ceiling, with shelves of fabric, yarn's, painting supplies and book's. A cutting/painting table in the middle would make room for idea's to run as wild as imagination could allow. In a closet turned sewing area, side by side my treadle and the Brother, would comfortably sit waiting for the next project to begin.  

My dream house could hold one, two, or more, at any given time.
Gossip would be left off the front porch steps, only talk of validation, support and dreams would be heard in the conversations buzz.

That would be my dream house, nestled in the back yard, next to the fountain with the pond...

Sticky Troubles...

This time of the year there are a few things that always scare me.

One especially comes to mind when school starts.

When I was in elementary school, I lived close enough to walk. I loved to walk to and from, with my friends, or alone.
That is except past the vacant lot where the weeds were tall and hung out over the edges of the sidewalk.
Back in the day we wore red, or white, knee high, cable knit sock's. They were sort of heavy.
Well every single time I would walk, ok run at top speed, past that lot, it happened every single time...

At least one, if not more, of these ugly, icky things would find me. Sticking firmly to my sock, skirt of *shiver*...land on my head!

I would shriek, slapping at the offender, running helter skelter past another lot or more.

It took me a while to figure out that if I threw my book bag down...I would have to go back and get it.

That would just restart the process.

If I swung the bag around to ward off those barb footed hoppers, I usually ended up smacking myself in that process.

Finally I got it figured out that if I just closed my eye's and ran really fast past, brushed my hand above the grass hopper's and locusts, that would give them enough incentive to hop off on their own volition.

Sometimes it  was so hard to wait for them to leave on their own.

Being older and supposedly wiser... I have found that grass hopper fears come disguised as other things too. Some of them pretty big and pretty scary. Some of the things make me want to do all of those things I did when a particularly ugly hopper would attach itself to me.

It has taken me some time to figure out that some scary things don't leave when invited to do so, they just need to be given time to work themselves out. Some of the troubles need to be looked at from a distance...



Sometimes that is very hard. to do. 

Lasts

Fall is in the air.

It came on Thursday night last week, and hasn't left yet, so I think its here to stay.

Also this having been Labor Day Week End, it was that last big chance to go do something, thus bringing an end to the Summer.

Honey and I went along with some of the other *minions successfully doing a few end of season things. On the drive back to reality we were discussing, 'lasts'.

If you knew something would be a 'last', would you enjoy it more? Would you *relish it more in the doing?

Would we just assume it will always be the same, thus not paying it any attention?

Would you notice more of the detail's? 

Would you be more attentive?
Search out the hidden treasures in the experience?
The sounds, smells, and feelings?


It got me to wondering, about life in general, as well as in some specifics.


Do I remember the last cartwheel I turned? The last time I played on a slip n slide? The last time I rode my bike backwards? (It took me all one summer to master that little trick!) The last time I walked on stilts, or jumped on a pogo stick? Hiked up to the mine?
If this were my last time kayaking, would it have been something I would remember.
It was at least, 36 years, since the last time I was at the lake where we went kayaking on Sunday.
We had gone boating with some high school friends, the driver of the boat, was the driver because it was his dad's boat. He took one quick trip around to see who was on the water and to see where water skiing could be done. Coming back in to fast, turning to sharp, the boat was out of the water flying to its stop on the wooden dock sideways,  the group of temporary inhabitants having dove haphazardly into the water from all angles.
The driver jumped out putting his hands on his hips in Peter Pan fashion throwing back his head to laugh, yelling out, "You should have seen your faces! You looked so funny jumping!".  The boat lost its rudder in the process, but not being *deterred by such insignificant things (cough, cough), the boat was pushed back into the water, away he went for another test run before we started to ski.
Honey felt so bad, he had lost his little kissing couple we had gotten for each of us at Logan's Run. *sigh* Young love. 
That was a memorable day indeed.

But this time, if I never go back, will I have had a sufficiently good time? Did I enjoy it to the fullest?

I have been pondering these, and other things for quite some time now.

Lasts.

It has changed the way I look at things, the way I interact with people, the way I treat myself...

Because like the song says, "We may never pass this way again"...

Minions = a servile follower or subordinate of a person in power. A favored or highly regarded person.
Relish =  pleasurable appreciation of anything;
Deterred = to discourage or restrain from acting or proceeding:

Lasts

Fall is in the air.

It came on Thursday night last week, and hasn't left yet, so I think its here to stay.

Also this having been Labor Day Week End, it was that last big chance to go do something, thus bringing an end to the Summer.

Honey and I went along with of the other *minions successfully doing a few end of season things. On the drive back to reality we were discussing, 'lasts'.

If you knew something would be a 'last', would you enjoy it more? Would you *relish it more in the doing?

Would we just assume it will always be the same, thus not paying it any attention?



Would you notice more of the detail's? 

Would you be more attentive?
Search out the hidden treasures in the experience?
The sounds, smells, and feelings?


It got me to wondering, about life in general, as well as in some specifics.


Do I remember the last cartwheel I turned? The last time I played on a slip n slide? The last time I rode my bike backwards? (It took me all one summer to master that little trick!) The last time I walked on stilts, or jumped on a pogo stick? Hiked up to the mine?
If this were my last time kayaking, would it have been something I would remember.
It was at least, 36 years, since the last time I was at the lake where we went kayaking on Sunday.
We had gone boating with some high school friends, the driver of the boat, was the driver because it was his dad's boat. He took one quick trip around to see who was on the water and to see where water skiing could be done. Coming back in to fast, turning to sharp, the boat was out of the water flying to its stop on the wooden dock sideways,  the group of temporary inhabitants having dove haphazardly into the water from all angles.
The driver jumped out putting his hands on his hips in Peter Pan fashion throwing back his head to laugh, yelling out, "You should have seen your faces! You looked so funny jumping!".  The boat lost its rudder in the process, but not being *deterred by such insignificant things (cough, cough), the boat was pushed back into the water, away he went for another test run before we started to ski.
Honey felt so bad, he had lost his little kissing couple we had gotten for each of us at Logan's Run. *sigh* Young love. 
That was a memorable day indeed.

But this time, if I never go back, will I have had a sufficiently good time? Did I enjoy it to the fullest?

I have been pondering these, and other things for quite some time now.

Lasts.

It has changed the way I look at things, the way I interact with people, the way I treat myself...

Because like the song says, "We may never pass this way again"...

Minions = a servile follower or subordinate of a person in power. A favored or highly regarded person.
Relish =  pleasurable appreciation of anything;
Deterred = to discourage or restrain from acting or proceeding:

She & Me

It's hard to picture her young.

Its hard to picture her old.

It's hard to picture her gone.

I still catch myself heading for the phone to talk to her.

To tell her a joke.

See something at the store ,"I should pick up" for her.

Today she would be 92 years old.

When she was my age, she would become a widow in 5 months. Remaining so for thirty three more years.

She was much more brave than I ever knew.

She was stronger and much smarter that I ever gave her credit for.

She gave up dreams for me.

She taught me to dream.

She was a very talented woman.

She was a broken woman.

I still learn from her every day.

I miss hugging her, and kissing her on the cheek.

Happy Birthday Momma...



Sept. 5, 1919 ~ Jan. 30, 2005

Time

Time flies on gossamer wings.

It is so hard to believe that school is back in session!

Why I remember not to long ago, wondering if summer would ever really come, and now here we are pushing the last week's of National Zucchini month!

Time is something we either have to much, or not enough of, it can be a friend, an enemy,  it can  often be an invisible healer, it can leave us feeling robbed, if we let it.

Like water under a bridge, once it passes it can't be called back.

That is why I like photos so much.

A picture can freeze a second in time, to be looked at through the years. Triggering memories and feeling's in an instant.

Why, remember the Summer you felt like you could fly?



She could run as fast as the wind.
Fly through the air with the greatest of ease. Swing so high she was sure her toe's could touch the sky.
Her bike could become anything from a horse to a motorcycle in just seconds.

Time was when she had no cares in the world.
The biggest thing to worry about was if her friends could play and what to do in the afternoon's when it was to hot.

Time passes. 
There is no way to stop it.
Unless you set some of the house work aside, grab your camera and go play with the kids' while they are little :)

Flying

Ever wish you could fly?

When I was little I used to fly in my dreams. Above the tree tops, over the houses, swooping like the birds, taking off like Superman, landing with precision in places of my choice.
As I have grown older my dreams of flying were forgotten someplace along the path of my life. But now that I am entering the "youth of old age" I am learning about different meaning's of flying...why I am learning to let my pencils , paints, and imagination fly across pages, canvas' and with my camera's. I am learning that I can do lots of things I always limited myself on in the past, by believing that 'I can't", I told myself so many times through out the years but now I am waking up and seeing that indeed I can do many things I either didn't dare try or didn't think I would succeed at.

I may or may not succeed, but I am finding that the fun and freedom of trying, of spreading my wings and learning new way's to fly, are every bit as exciting as when I was little and would try to touch my toes to the sky while swinging as high as I could.

I think it helps to fuel my imagination when I take photograph's and find among them treasure's that fly... 

I read about some very wonderful Flying Lesson's while reading kelly rae roberts book.

Later I learned about this book this month. Thinking about getting it.

Summer Dresses

As she dances through the respectably slow summer day's, she pauses to show every one who will stop, just how magnificently her dress twirls.
Just like Peaches & Cream, Strawberries & Rhubarb, Apple Pie & Base Ball, Grandpa's & Butter Scotch candy's, it seems Summer & Dresses are inseparable combinations. 
They go surprisingly well with bare feet, don't you think?
She loves how the skirts dance when kissed by the breezes of running, spinning, or swaying. Often looking down to watch it swing as she walks. 
Feminine is not a concept she associates with her dainty little summer dresses, even though they help her feel beautiful...
Even while packing a handful's of grass hopper's. 

The wonderfulness of summer dresses are not only enjoyed by the little girl's, but by many of the girl's of varying ages as well.
I watch as a white haired woman sashays down a hall enchanted by the sway dancing at the hem of her peach colored dress, spontaneously stepping so as to make it swing just a little bit better.
Even teenager's and Mommy's like the dresses of summer. The long one's, the short one's, and the one's in between.
Or the women out walking, some watch the way the hems of their broom skirts flit and flutter with each step, billowing like butterfly wings with each step of their sandled feet.

I love Summer Dresses, don't you?

Perfect

How would you describe a perfect Summer day?

Being a person of many words, I would like to take this opportunity to show you some things that can make for just such a perfect Summer day...

"Dirty hands, iced tea, garden fragrances thick in the air and a blanket of color before me,
who could ask for more?"- Bev Adams,

"You have to love a nation that celebrates its independence every July 4th, not with a parade of guns, tanks, and soldiers who file by the White House in a show of strength and muscle, but with family picnics where kids throw Frisbees, the potato salad gets iffy, and the flies die from happiness. You may think you have overeaten, but it is patriotism." - Erma Bombeck