OLD MAN WINTER...

Well we've leaned against the door holding it tightly closed so he can't get in. We've reluctantly gotten out the hat, gloves, heavier coats and rolled our eyes avoiding taking out the rubber boots. We've moved the lawn mower to the back of the garage and moved the snow blower up to the front close to the doors, tested out the shovels, gotten out every day the sun even poked its head out from behind the clouds. We've checked off Labor day, President's day, Halloween, Veterans day, my birthday, John's birthday and Thanksgiving and we've whisked away the mentionof it with the stroke of a hand saying the dreadful "stuff" was just up in the mountains.....but we just can't hold off any longer.....tomorrow old man winter is going to push his way on down taking in a deep deep breath and blowing out some frigid wind and with the stroke of his hand, in a few days he's going to shake his powder sugar shaker and cover us with the most gorgeous white soft blanket you can imagine.....Old man winter is here and will be staying. So we best make a big pot of haddock chowder, some warm hot chocolate....stoke the fire in the fire place, get out our Uggs, invite him in and enjoy his company for a while.

What the heck....The weather outside will be frightful....but the fire will be so delightful....and since we've no place to go....let it snow, let it snow, let it snow!

FOR ALL I HAVE....I AM THANKFUL

To all my friends and family and anyone else who might stumble across this blog....may you have a wonderful and blessed Thanksgiving. May you know that you are exactly where you are meant to be right now and that even if you don't think you have much, you really have soooo much. There is someone out there in much greater need than you are. Even with all the craziness going on these days....Life is good. When you sit down to whatever is your traditional (or new) Thanksgiving meal, take a few moments to think about the ones who can only dream about what is on your plate. When you pass by the oven or the heater vent or the fireplace and feel the warmth today (or if you're in the south and you have the air conditioning on)....think about the ones who long to even have a roof over their heads. At least for today, don't grumble, be happy, smile and enjoy the people around you. And remember that way up here in Maine, someone is thinking about you.

To Mother, Daddy, Shelley, Earl, Lisa, Brian, Ashley, Matt...... Melissa, Jimmy, Ryan, Matt, Ashley...... Michelle, Zach, Mitchell..... Gene and Marie..... JoAnn......Paul, Carol, Kathy and her family, Jeff, Suzanne......all my extended family and friend..... and most especially to John....I love you and I am thankful you are a part of my life.

Have a beautiful day!

"Take Time To Be Thankful"

Southern Comfort, Northern Cold, Much Thankfulness and A Little Frustration!

I guess it's true.....you can take the girl out of the South, but you cannot take the south out of the girl. To my pure delight as I was strolling in the grocery store down the cereal isle.....way down on the bottom shelf (trying to look inconspicuous) and hiding behind the "Old Fashion Oat Meal" was a box of GRITS !! Oh be still my heart!!!! I've been here in Maine a little over 2 years and I have not had grits since we stopped at a Crackle Barrel restaurant on our 4 day trip driving here from San Antonio, Texas. It would be a total total total understatement to say that people in New England do not eat grits........in fact I joke with John sometimes that it's like the judge in the movie "My Cousin Vennie" when the judge asks Joe Pesci..."What's a grit?" John makes the most awful face when I even talk about grits (he did try them once and needless to say...once was enough for him)..........but it is never 'once is enough' for me. I love grits! I like them cooked in the morning as a cereal with butter, sugar and milk. Now that my friends, to a little gal who spent most of her life in Texas and was born in New Orleans, is pure delightful southern comfort.

Ummm Ummm Ummm Ummm Ummm! I think I'll have a bowl tomorrow morning because it's warm and yummy on cold mornings....and land sakes alive.....are we having cold mornings...in the 20's with wind chills in the teens. The weatherman says we are having January weather in November. That's an understatement, but not a surprise to me. The Farmer's Almanac says our area is to be much colder and get more snow in the next couple of months than we did last year......and even Mainers who have lived here all their lives would say we had tons of snow last year. But I think it is all relative. There are people here and across the United States and I imagine the world for that matter who love snow and all the fun activities it brings with it. We always say Maine has the most beautiful weather except for the 4 months when it's so cold and snowy..............but then right down in San Antonio, my sweet Daddy has said, "the weather in San Antonio is great....except for the 4 months when it's so brutally hot". So to each his own. We all have some give and take. That's what makes the world interesting.

This morning the mums, with flora and foliage now frozen close to resembling only dead weeds in a pot, took a much needed hike to the back woods of our land and the pumpkins that have made our front porch "festively fall" and "autumny" will be split in half and laid out in those same woods to make lots of little creatures happy and lots of little tummies full. By the end of the week the indoor "Indian Corn", "Fake Autumn Leaves", and " Pumpkin and Spice Flavored Candles" will be put back in the box in the basement labeled "Fall Decorations" and we will have a couple of weeks of 'just normal' living room and dining room before the Christmas decorations go up.....and those will be few. John and I are of the common agreement that "less is more". We like simple, plain and orderly.....I like to call it quiet elegance. It drives us both nuts that lots of stores already had Christmas things out before Halloween was over and the radio stations are already playing Christmas songs. But I guess that is all relative too. I think as we grow older one of the main things on our minds is thinking of all the ways we can slow time down......and having to think about Christmas at the end of October is not one of those ways. (Although, I'll have to admit, I like to get my shopping done early and have in years past had it all done and wrapped by the weekend after Thanksgiving).....I am not a fight the crowds for last minute gifts type of person! But on the other hand, the little ones can't wait and the longer they can think about it and have time to hint what they want Santa to bring, the better.

John and I have talked a lot lately about how lucky we are....to have found each other (although I think God put John and I where he wanted us to be at just the time we needed to be there and made the rest of our story unfold the way it did and continues to do....I'm not much of a believer in luck. I think 'things' happen for a reason and there is a much bigger picture (that we may never fully understand) called "life" that is guided by a greater being. But luck or fate or whatever it is....we are ever mindful of the blessings we have. We are ever aware of how many people---right here in this little village we live in (and all over the world), are overwhelmed with the needs they have of putting food on the table, how they are going to heat their homes and clothe their children, how they are going to pay the bills or get medicine and health care.

As Thanksgiving approaches we hope you will all join us in taking time to be thankful for the things you have (however great or small they are).

As Christmas approaches we struggle with what to get each other because there's not a lot we really need or want.....perhaps because we're lucky, perhaps because we're older and material things are not important.....we have our health, a warm home and food on our table.....but most importantly we have each other and for that we are thankful.....at Thanksgiving, at Christmas time and all through the year.

I always love the song that says: "It's not the things you do at Christmas time, but the Christmas things you do all year through".....and the other song that says "To love and be loved is the greatest gift of all".

So with thoese thoughts in mind, if you read the title of this post, you must be wondering what the "little frustration" is............well the day I started writing this post (*I never seem to get them written in one setting)....I was trying to connect my work laptop to my home wireless connection....cannot for the life of me get it hooked up!!!! Still can't....But in the whole scheme of things, that's all it is .....a little frustration....to be dealt with another day.

Oh and one more thing I have to be thankful for......I now have a new "Northern Comfort"....a big steaming bowl of haddock chowder....or as we say it up here....haddock chowda....Yum Yum Yum!

Take care and I'll write more soon!

John and turning 60....a delight!

And so the lovely Sunday dinner with the girls and the beautiful flowers from my other sweet kids were followed by a surprise dinner on Tuesday night....with John offering to take me to Macaroni Grill and us getting there only to find he had invited several of our closest friends to join us. I was delightfully surprised...good friends, good food, wonderful man! That was followed on the actual day (*the 12th) with a dinner cooked for me and presents....I met this man at a distance and took a leap of faith to move 2000 miles to be with him and everyday, I am reminded of what a right and wonderful decision that was. I love you John!

Too Sexy to be Sixty....OH PLEEEZE!!

I guess there is no more denying it now. The official beginning of the "celebrations" has begun as Sunday my two step-daughters and their children came over to help me celebrate early and today the most gorgeous huge bouquet of flowers arrived from my step-son and daughter-in-law........

.....Celebrate what you ask???

Well I guess I must fess up....Tomorrow....Wednesday, the 12th of November is my birthday.....and this one is a real toughie...OyVay!

I was born in 1948....so you figure it out!!

I told the girls earlier that no other birthdays had bothered me until this one and I'm just plumb exasperated about it! There's just no way I can be 60! How did that happen? Why I feel like it couldn't have been more than a few years ago that I was giggling with my high school girlfriends as we all swooned over some 16 year old boy who looked like Elvis in our chemistry class. But then I guess reality sets in when you realize that your next High School reunion will be the 45th! Yikes!....and your step-son who was also born in an "8" year ('68) turned 40 this year!!!! Oh my gosh!!

I got the most beautiful flowers from my wonderful step-son and his sweet wife and the girls and grand kids gave me a beautiful snowman light, Willow Tree angel carving and a coffee cup that proudly says "Too Sexy to be Sixty". Ha! Ha! If only that were true....I'll be the first to admit gravity crept up behind me some time ago and attacked me when I wasn't looking.

I will wait until tomorrow to open John's presents which he's got all wrapped with riddle clues on them.........something we do for all our gifts, but I can never figure out his clues....it's like my mind goes blank, no matter how many times I read the clues. It isn't until I open the present that I then go.....ohhhhh ....now I get it!! I'm told the girls came upstairs on Sunday and read the riddles and guessed them right off, first guess......I guess my 60 year old mind is a little slow.

My sweet daddy always says you know you're old when no one living is twice your age....and more recently he says ....you know you're old when your "baby" daughter is turning 60.

60 is a real turning of the corner in my book. Not all sad though....just kind of brings you into another mindset. Finally, if you're lucky by sixty you have all (or most) of your finances figured out. By sixty, you're at least thinking about retirement and lately wishing the stock market would level out or go back up so you could take it (retirement) sooner than later. By sixty you've gone over or at least started that " Bucket List" (things I'd like to do before I kick the bucket). By sixty you realize that the younger generation thinks a lot different than you do or did at their age. At sixty, all of a sudden, music seems to get very loud and it almost feels like a warm blanket laid on your shoulders when you hear an old Sinatra song played on the radio....and you feel young and full of vinegar when the the Beach Boys or the Beetles come on. Because you have no idea who or what Coldplay does.....you felt sad when you heard Paul Newman passed away, but you've never heard of Golshifteh Farahani or why her body lies???

I vaguely know what an Ipod is and have no clue how they get all that music in that tiny flat case. At sixty I don't know how to text on my phone and for that matter worry too much that it would only cause more pain in the thumbs of these already arthritic hands! And at 60, you finally realize what your parents have meant for so many years when they say "I really don't want anything for Christmas"....just seeing you is present enough. "

But all those somewhat funny negatives aside, 60 is really not so bad. I was 54 when I lost my husband to emphysema and was diagnosed with breast cancer a week after (all in all a really sad hard time in my life). But now I'm going to be 60.....cancer free for 6 years and with old special memories tucked safely away....I've started a new life with a wonderful man who is a pure delight and means the world to me.

At 60 I find I really do care about who gets elected president and vice president and even though our choices both brought a series of questions and issues....I'm not ashamed to voice, that in my opinion, the right team won. And at 60 (although I think I've always known this) I truly understand that what's most important in this life is family and friends and health.....and not the money or the job title or the kind of car you drive.

One of my step-daughter's wrote in her card "60 is just a number"....and that's pretty much true.

Today I don't have much I regret...(except perhaps, as it's always been, that I never had a child of my own)....but my step-son, daughter-in-law and my two new step-daughters have taken me in as though they were my own.....and at 60 that's a great feeling. I do have a touch of arthritis in my fingers. I do color my hair so the gray doesn't show through. It takes me a little longer to do things and I still hate it when I walk all the way downstairs and can't remember what I wanted in the kitchen drawer.....and I laught when I walk up those stairs and look forward to the ranch condo we may someday own.

I read somewhere that, 'It's not the years in your life that matter, it's the life in your years'.
And if that's true, then life is just beginning!

Like the poet Jean Paul says. " Like a morning dream, life becomes more and more bright the longer we live, and the reason of everything appears more clear. What has puzzled us before seems less mysterious, and the crooked paths look straighter as we approach the end. "

I think I shall look at it like this "60" .....doesn't it kind of look like the word "GO" .... as in "go for the gold"...."keep on going".....go for the gusto....go...go...go! It's nice to be at an age where you can go for the things that really bring you pleasure, that have real meaning, that keep you excited about life, and yet be at the age where you truly do have time to stop now and then and smell the roses and ponder thoughts and laugh at the new gadgets that kids use and have never been without, but are a total mystery to you. And then being a "Baby Boomer"....I guess we can't forget the words of the Beatles song:

When I get older losing my hair,

Many years from now.

Will you still be sending me a valentine

Birthday greetings-- bottle of wine.

If I'd been out till quarter to three,

Would you lock the door;

Will you still need me,

Will you still feed me,

When I'm sixty-four.

Heck I'm just turning 60......Life is pretty wonderful these days....and 60 is just a number...........so maybe in some hysterical way...I am "Too Sexy to be Sixty"!!!

Time keeps on slipping away....

Hang tight.....I'll be back....promise! :)

A writing lesson....

Last week when I went to my writing workshop, a good number (well more than usual) of the people in the class, chose to "pass" and not read what they wrote. I find that strange, because this has not been a great class for me (in regards to my writing that is....I haven't, for some reason, liked the things I've written and struggled in each class to write something). No matter how bad I thought my writing was, I read it and was often surprised that others in the class like the way I have envisioned a scene or formed dialog or gathered up words to express my feelings. I miss it when the others don't share, for part of the learning of the class (for me) is hearing how others mix and mingle words expressing their thoughts and stories.

But as it turned out, the lack of people choosing to read gave us time to have some open discussion of writing styles and to ask questions of those that everyone agrees are truly gifted writers.....the ones that have projects in the works, the ones that write in such a way that you really can't wait until their book is published and you can read it. It was commented that writing is sometimes a "selfish" thing....or a thing of self....one expressing their own ideas and thoughts....sometimes to 'self'........that's not always a bad thing...........

Those of us who want to be writers, but confess to not being right in the groove yet, asked the "others" how they make their stories and characters so believable....the answer, almost unanimously, was that they abandon "self" and get into the minds of the characters in the story...they forgo their own opinions and thoughts and write through the voice and the mind of the place, people and time in their story. I found that bit of information very enlightening and educational. I've found my writings to be (in this class) more of my own thoughts and opinions... not that my own thoughts and feelings are not valuable, but even I'll admit, they are not always "page-turning wows". Thinking back, the writing I've done that have brought more good critiques from my classmates are those where I was able to lose myself in a character. I'm going to try to do my whole writing that way for the last two classes of this session and see how it goes. Perhaps I'll share them with you here.

***************************

I don't know about where you live, but here in Maine....Fall is tearing down the street and rushing out of town.......no doubt with winter fast on her heels, driving an 18-wheeler full of snow flakes!

A world full of stories.....

John and I were talking at the dinner table last night, joyfully and non-stop since he'd been gone a week and we had much to catch up on. We talked about his seminar he'd been to, the neighborhood, things happening at school, things happening in the families of our dear and near friends and of family and friends far away. It was a delightful dinner (a simple plate of spaghetti--comfort food). We learned from many years apart sharing visits only every 4 months or so, that the one thing we missed the most in those separations (and in the last week), was sharing dinner, sitting across from each other after busy days and talking, laughing, enjoying the company of someone who means the world to you, looking across the table and without saying a word feeling love, warmth, comfort....home.

One of the things we talked about and that I constantly have rolling around in my head (because I want to write a piece about it, but haven't figured out yet how to make it flow smoothly) is that as we sat there enjoying a simple, but delicious dinner and engaging in a lively conversation.....at that very minute..... somewhere a baby was being born, taking its first breath, somewhere a person was dying, taking their last breath, somewhere there was a party going on, a bird snuggling into its nest, a fireman fighting a fire, a 911 call for help from a frantic caller being taken over a phone, someone looking up in amazement at the Eiffel Tower in Paris, someone contemplating suicide, a runaway teenager scared and cold with nowhere to go, some beautiful person celebrating their 100 birthday.....someone being beat up for not having dinner ready, someone drowning in another drink, someone at an airport getting ready to board a plane to go to a business meeting or to bravely go to meet someone they've grown fond of on the Internet. Somewhere it's raining, somewhere the sun is shining, somewhere it's hot, somewhere it's cold; somewhere someone is in a church praying, somewhere a seeing-eye dog is leading a blind person across a street.....someone is taking a bow on a Broadway stage.....and a million other things are happening while I was sitting down to dinner with someone I've missed for a week....

I find it fascinating to think about that....it makes me feel small and relatively unimportant in the big picture and yet it makes me feel important for the tiny little slivers of gems that John and I are in the mosaic that makes up this world. For every second of every day, while the small little space of "my world" is evolving and ever changing around me, the small little space in the world of someone else across the sea or down the street is evolving around them....mine important to me and theirs important to them.

Think of all the thoughts being thought in some other situation....as you sit reading my thoughts that I've chosen to share with you.

We each have a story, as simple or as complex as it might be; some happier than others, but not one more important than the other.

Mitch Albom wrote in his book called "The Five People You Meet In Heaven"........"and in that line now was a whiskered old man, with a linen cap and a crooked nose who waited....to share his part of the secret of heaven: that each affects the other and the other affects the next, and the world is full of stories, but the stories are all one."

Sometimes you never know why people come into your life....even if just for a fleeting moment.... while others stay for a lifetime.....Did you ever look at someone and wonder what their story was? I'm a firm believer that we are all (each) here to teach lessons and to learn lessons....

I hope right now your world is beautiful. Have a wonderful day!

Like a beacon from heaven---HOW 'BOUT THEM SOX

The moon was shining into my window this morning, like a beacon from heaven....a night light into my soul.

It's Friday, the sun is shining, the Boston Red Sox won last night in the last few minutes of the game (which has people hooting and hollering around here).....and me being from Texas....will give a quiet smile understanding their excitement....it's kind of like (years ago) when I was a dyed-in-the-wool "Dallas Cowboy" fan--never missed a game--ever! But things and interest change....now I'm not much into sports--couldn't tell you who the quarter back is for the Cowboys or for the New England Patriots for that matter....or who the players are for the Red Sox (....I know, I know...look ashamed!)John comes home tomorrow....so life is great! Have a beautiful day! I'll be thinking of you!

.....know true love ways

Today is a special day. Today is the 61st anniversary of the marriage of my parents. If you look up love in the dictionary you would find their picture. For you see, they have found a way to give and take, together-- to agree and disagree, together-- to laugh and cry, together-- to give each other their own space and yet yearn to be ever close to each other.

They have found a place in this world that works for them, together. He’s 85 and she’ll be 84 in January and yet they still look at each other the same way they looked at each other the day I was born…..almost 60 years ago.

They have something very rare….they have the love of the “love birds” who find each other and mate for life. They are two individuals, sharing one heart….knowing that the most important truth they’ve ever known is each other…

There is a song that says:

Look at this face,I know the years are showing.
Look at this life,I still don't know where it's going
So many questions still left unanswered.
So much I've never broken through.

And when I feel you near me,
Sometimes I see so clearly.
The only truth I've ever known
Is me and you.

I don't know much,
but I know I love you.
And that may be all I need to know.

I love you Mom and Dad….Happy Anniversary!

Just a little venting......and a day of joy!

I'm tired....

.....tired of the markets falling like a parachute with no rip cord, the ground coming up fast and the sound of "splat" faintly riveting in my ears.

....tired of the "he said", "she said", he voted for this, he didn't' vote for this, he wants to raise your taxes, he wants to keep us in the war, I promise I'll do this, I promise I'll do that, the constant grown up bickering between two relatively intelligent people, wearing themselves (and their followers/listeners) out, by trying to come up with just the right words or actions to build themselves up or cut the other one down, to sway the people....who are all just so tired of the whole mess...of elections....I for one just want to say, "could you just cut the bunk and stand in a room and tell us what you're going to do, actually explain your plan, instead of wasting time bashing each other. But then I'm aware that's a pretty Pollyanna notion......it never changes, they all make promises, some they'll try to keep and some they have no intention of keeping......it always gets down to the finger pointing and name calling......and it always makes me tired......but I'll be right in front of the "boob" tube on the 15th watching the final debate.........and I'll be right in the voting booth on November 4th.

One thing I do know for sure--there's not enough money in the whole world to ever make me want to be President of the United States!

Whew! There now I feel better!

I can hardly believe that it is yet another Saturday, closing in on yet another week that's flown by. Time is always flying, fleeting seconds ticking by as quickly as a spilt glass of milk at the dinner table.....for a nano-second it feels like everything is in slow motion....but then the milk just rushes out of the glass and no matter what you do, you can't stop it.....

Have you ever notice how quickly time passes when you're on the computer? I always find myself surprised when I write or check my e-mail or look things up....to discover how such large blocks of time pass so quickly. I've always been amazed too, how I get lost in time when I am painting, writing or doing needlework. I always used to say it would be a great way for me to go on a diet.....I simply forget time when I allow myself 'time' to indulge my creative passions. I totally get lost in the creative zone and taking time to eat means nothing to me. I know that this yesterday morning when my alarm went off, I wished I had more time to sleep. When the morning slipped by, I wished I had more time to get ready for work, as the day slipped by, I commented that 'there are not enough hours in the day to get my work done', and as the evening slipped by, I thought about how few hours there are to enjoy home and the ones I love.

I do, however, know of a way to slow time down ......at least it works for me.....and I haven't done it in ages. You get in a little metal or wooden boat; one that has a small engine just big enough to get you out in the middle of a lake or bay......make sure you have all the appropriate gear, fishing pole, bait, net, a stringer, hooks, weights etc. etc. etc. When you get out to the middle of the body of water, comment on how you've heard this is just the right spot to make a big catch and how good they'll taste when you clean, gut and cook them up. When your pole is all geared up.....don't put any bait on it and then whip the line out to just the right spot....lean back, take in a nice deep breath, let it out and watch the world go by. It's great, time just seems to inch along like a duck slowly lolling up and down on the slight ripple of the water. Enjoy the steady slosh of the water lapping up against the boat and feel the gentle rocking....don't think about work, or the stock market, or anything that involves time. Just let random pleasant thoughts skip in and out.

You'll be amazed at how wonderful it is when time has no relevance....it's like heaven in slow motion.

(Lucy and I agree those words of wisdom are worth about 5 cents...but it does work for me) :)

The trip up the Kangamangus Passageway was just lovely. At every “stop for a beautiful view” place, you could hear the click click click click of no less than 50 digital cameras recording memories. You could hear the verbal uhhhhs and ahhhhs as people gazed upon the beauty Mother Nature was unfolding across the White Mountains. There must surely be literally thousands of pictures taken everyday this time of year up and down that passageway. Some of those pictures I’m sure would turn out much more vividly and professional than the ones I shot, because there were serious photographers there too; with cameras that had huge (let’s capture a Nat’s ass) lens on them. I’m sure in those pictures you could see the very veins on the multi-colored leaves. John laughed at me as I clicked off my 100th picture! I was officially a “tourist leaf peeper”.

If you’ve never driven up the Kancamagus Highway (also called the Kangamangus Passage),into the White Mountains in New Hampshire, you should put it on your list of “things to do”. It winds around the mountains…..if you look it up on the internet, you’ll find such descriptions as:

The Kancamagus Highway is traveled by over a million people each year. The Kancamagus Highway cuts an east-west channel through the 800,000-acre White Mountain National Forest from Lincoln NH to Conway NH. When the dense trees change their leaves from their summer greens to breathtaking shades of yellow and red in the Fall, they are illuminated against the colorful mountains, making this a dramatic and enjoyable leaf-peeping route. Motorcyclists relish the twists and turns as the highway climbs to almost 3,000 feet at the peak of Mount Kancamagus. The easily accessible trailheads and parking areas are often sought by hikers.

And there were many many many motorcyclists enjoying the ride and the day. There were also the brave (and in much better shape than I) bicycle riders………oh my gosh, some of the inclines up the mountain (even on the paved road) were treacherous and you could see the sinewy calf muscles bulging in their work to pedal up the trail. They were obviously not amateurs….I got out of breath just watching them in the comfort of my passengers seat.

We stopped and took the gondolas up the Loon Mountain ski area….with of course no snow this time of year. The ride goes really high with the top wheels of the gondolas skimming along the huge cables. When you get half way up and realize how high you are and that you’re only half way up, it can start the butterflies in your stomach. But you are saved by the exquisite beauty being that high up (in the air) allows….

…..the words to the song “Up Up and Away, My Beautiful Balloon” danced through my mind...
(The world's a nicer place in my beautiful balloon. It wears a nicer face in my beautiful balloon. We can sing a song and sail along the silver sky...For we can fly, we can fly)

…. It must be just as breathtaking when the mountain is covered with snow. John says in the winter, you can watch the skiers rushing down the trails below….what joy that must be!

We stopped and had a lunch (of egg salad sandwiches) with the simple unpretentious beauty of nature as our “picnic basket lesson”.

It was a glorious day….I wish you could have come along.

We were not disappointed...

The trip up into the White Mountains was beyond words......the colors were beautiful....and we're told it wasn't even "peak" yet.

I have to get on my treadmill this morning....so I'll write more about the trip soon.

While you're waiting on me, enjoy a few pictures...

The lessons of the picnic basket

Geeze, Louise....I lost another week. I started this blog to try to get myself into the habit of writing everyday. Obviously that's not working out too well! Time is so fleeting and just will not stand still for any of us. Point in case....it's already October. Summer seemed short this year because of all the rain, but then it seemed like we watched summer picking up her wet petticoats and sauntering out of town just a few weeks ago. And as much as I hate it, there are stores already playing Christmas music (it's not Christmas I hate....I adore Christmas....it's the stores playing Christmas music when we haven't even seen the ghouls and gobblins or tasted the warm juicy turkey and delightful dressing!....Come on folks....time passes fast enough!)

Today we are going to pack a picnic basket and drive up into the White Mountains of New Hampshire to see the majesty of the trees as they stand tall with their Sunday seasonal best on. There will be bonnets of red and orange, chapeaus of yellow and crimson and coats of varying shades of fading green. This time of year in New Hampshire, Maine, Michigan, Rhode Island, Connecticut....all over the northern states, Mother Nature is the artist and she will stand back with brushes in hand, each dipped in rich warm fall colors and she'll flicked those brushes as though you would to get the water out of a brush when cleaning it......and in perfection, as only Mother Nature can accomplish, the colors will be mixed against the sky every where we look.

I know it will be a day that will take our breath away.

I'm still going to writing class....so I thought, in view of our delightful trip today, I'd share something I wrote in one of those classes....

PROMPT: Set a scene
Write a scene that tells a story

Come on child, put your toys away. I’ve fixed us a picnic lunch. Let’s go out in the meadow and enjoy God’s handy work.

“Oh for Pete’s sake”, I thought to myself. I don’t want to spend the afternoon with my grandmother. What the hell will we talk about? She still thinks I play with toys! I’ll be 15 next week! Why did I agree to spend the whole summer here so far away from the city and my friends?

I bet Nettie is flirting with all the guys at the soda shop in town…Nettie with her beautiful corn silk hair and that rich “endowment” that always makes me feel like “Flatty Patty”. I can smell the burgers cooking on the grill; see the splatter of the hot froth as the cook eases the basket of French fries into the bubbling rolling grease. If I close my eyes I can taste the smoothness of the most delicious chocolate shakes this side of heaven…….and speaking of heaven I can see Johnny’s dreamy eyes….

“Sara Jane”….my name being yelled out pierces my dream-filled bubble. “Did you hear me honey? Don’t you want to go on a picnic?”

Oh heavy sigh……”Yes, Grammy, I’m coming”.

As I walked down the stairs and into the kitchen, the smell of fresh hot peach cobbler filled the air. Grammy was the best cook I’d ever known... why, even Mother said that. And Grammy was the tallest woman I think I’ve ever seen; tall and slender with her long silver hair always pulled into a tight bun low on the back of her head. Her skin was tough and worn from so many years on the farm. I looked at her and tried to imagine what she looked like at 15.

Mother said I was the spittin’ image of her (except for the height) and I liked that.

So I put my thoughts of Nettie and Johnny aside and gave Grammy my full attention.

I looked at the picnic basket, worn from age, but still together and sturdy with a crisp blue and white gingham towel lining it and one over the basket. I reached over to move the cover and Grammy slapped my hand—“What’s in the basket, Grammy?”

“Don’t you peek now girl!” “I’ve made us egg salad sandwiches and put in some chips, sodas and peach cobbler for dessert”.

“Why didn’t you want me to peek Grammy?”

“You just told me what was in the basket!”

“No child, I only told you part of what was in there—you’ll see.”

“Grab that basket and the camera.” “It’s such a pretty day, no telling what we’ll see—or what we’ll learn.”

We left the old farm house. “CLAP”, the screen door slammed as we walked out. Grammy never locked the doors. There were no neighbors close by and not many people visited and Grammy trusted everyone.

The clapboards on the old house needed painting but as I think back now it gave the old place character.

Old Sam, Grammy’s Border collie followed us out into the meadow. He was almost as old as Grammy (well in dog years) and he never left her side.

We threw out the blanket and I looked around and immediately remembered why I said I’d spend the summer here. It was like heaven in a golden meadow. The fragrant smell of wild flowers tickled my nose. The clouds were translucent. The warm sweet air breath-taking. We ate our sandwiches; egg salad like no other. (I think Grammy’s secret was that she added a little curry).

We talked about her childhood, the meadow and all my hopes and dreams; Grammy so totally engaged in my ideas and plans. The afternoon was magical. I looked around at the beauty of this meadow, got lost in watching a butterfly flit around us, seemingly so content with its short life. I closed my eyes and felt the warm sun kiss my cheek and thought this surely must be what heaven is like.

I took Gram’s hand and said, “Grammy, I love coming to this meadow with you….it’s takes my breath away.”

Grammy smiled the biggest smile I’d ever seen.

Then right before we were getting ready to leave I ask Gram what else was in the basket.

She reached deep to the bottom of the basket and took out a flat little package wrapped in tissue paper with a single satin pink ribbon tied around it.

She handed it to me. “What is it?”

“Just open it.”

I slowly pulled the end of the satin ribbon, which slid out of the bow as if it never meant to stay in place and pulled apart the tissue folded over it. It was a picture in a tiny frame of my great grandmother with my mother, when my mother was my age, right here in the very same meadow.

“Oh thank you Gram, thank you, it’s beautiful!”

She looked at me with her crystal blue eyes, took my hands and said, “It’s the simple things in life child that are important, spending time in nature with those you love. Whatever you do in your life, remember to take time to enjoy God’s handy work. Take time to be thankful for the simple beauties that are all around us; for all the things you have.”

“Look at the back of the picture, Sara.”

I turned the picture over. The back was covered in brown paper, worn from the years and the times someone (probably Grammy and my mom) had turned it over to read the words, now faded from time, written on the back…

“Life is not measured by the number of breaths you take, but by the moments that take your breath away.”

I ponder that day now. I think about the other lessons she taught me. And I know every summer why I return to that meadow with my grandchildren in hopes that they too will learn the lessons of the picnic basket.

Dear Dad.....

Well I told you I might share with you some of the writings from my writing workshop. I've decided to get brave and do just that. This one is actually one I wrote at the summer session. The way the class works is that they give us a prompt and a few examples of the way other people wrote , given that prompt. We write for an hour, then each read to the class what we wrote and are critiqued. Since most of us are just starting out and need lots of encouragement, they ask that the critiques all be good. I am truly happy on those Tuesday nights. I can let my mind wander to any place it wants-- near or far, pretend or real, adult or child, happy or sad.....and I often surprise myself at what comes out.

And so my attempt at writing....

PROMPT: POINT OF VIEW
WRITE A STORY ADDRESSED TO SOMEONE USING SOMETHING OF A PERSPECTIVE OTHER THAN YOUR OWN: IE. A LETTER OR A DIARY WRITTEN BY SOMEONE ELSE.


If only it would work he thought…..

Cyrus unfolded the letter one more time and as he lay in bed he read ….

Dear Dad,

I know that life is not easy for you now and I know that I can’t do much even though I’m not that far away, but hear me out—try to see things a different way. I just know it will help—I promise.

When you get up in the morning, lie for a minute in bed and stretch every muscle from the tips of your fingers to the curl of your toes. Remember when I was little you use to tell me that it’s how I’d grow taller and my whole body would know it was time to get up and enjoy the beautiful day…..and as you set on the edge of the bed….smile—even if you don’t feel like smiling. Mother used to say “as the corners of your mouth goes so goes your day”.

I love you Dad.

When you get up, before you brush your teeth or turn on the water to wash your face or before you let any of the many sounds that will fill your day, begin to creep in—listen for the tiny bird outside the window singing his sweet song—so happy to be alive, even if he has to search for food and find a safe warm spot in a storm.

Brush your teeth and bathe every day. When you’re clean, you’ll feel better and wasn’t it you that always said “cleanliness is next to godliness”.

When you look out the window, look past the things you don’t like to see—past the gate to where the trees and flowers are—remember how beautiful the blue bonnets are this time of year—remember you use to tell me God had laid out a blue carpet across the meadow. Let your mind travel on down the path beyond our old house to the little creek where you used to take Carrie Ann and I fishing—remember the day she tumbled head over heels down the bank and into the water trying to get the worm that fell off her hook—remember Dad—we laughed so hard I almost peed my pants. Try to remember that laughter Dad—even when you feel low.

Dad, when you go down to get your meals and they serve something you don’t like—try to make believe it’s Mother’s pot roast—she cooked it with garlic and onions slow all Sunday afternoon. Remember how the aroma would fill the house and we couldn’t wait till dinner—pretend the mash potatoes with the butter melting and the gravy are steaming on the table—let the thought of those smells fill your mind and be thankful they cook meals.

When you walk in the court yard be friendly—say hello—pass your smile on to someone new—remember there are other people there as lonely and scared as you are….

Dad, remember I love you.

Join in and exercise if they’ll let you. Try to stay strong and healthy—go to church services and other activities they offer.

Write Dad, you used to love to write. I’ll bring you new writing paper on my next visit.

You used to always tell me to see the glass as half full instead of half empty and to see the sunny side of life—that every cloud has a silver lining.

I know it’s tough Dad being there all alone and since Mother passed it’s even harder. I’ll try to come and visit more often.

And when your day is done and you lay your weary head on the bed you don’t find so comfortable, lay slowly so you can sink into the feathery cushion of the soft mattress and cloud like pillow that you conjure in your mind.

Thank God for giving you another day—remember you used to tell me Dad, that sometimes life doesn’t seem fair and the cross we have to bear is heavy. But we must overcome our adversities—think positive—and sometimes we have to make believe to just get us through.

Please try these things Dad….

And Dad, remember I love you and I’ll see you soon.

Cyrus put down the letter….wiped the tear that rolled from the corner of his eye—stretched from the tips of his fingers to the curl of his toes—set on the edge of the bed and tried to turn the corners of his mouth upward—walked slowly to the tiny window of his cell…..and tried to see past the bars….past the barbed-wire gates….down the path that led away from the prison….

And to his great surprise, somewhere off in the distance he heard the sweet morning song of a bird.

Pulling the comforter up....

Looking out the upstairs window of my home office, there is no doubt that the richness and splendor of fall is upon us. The maple trees now wear leaves of varying shades of crimson and red mixed among the green ones still valiantly clinging to the ever fading summer.

The neighborhood yards are in varying stages of excepting the inevitable change.... some with a few perennials still hanging on, some with all the perennials cut back, some with fresh new color from the vibrant burnt orange, yellow, buff, white and crimson mums.....some boldly declaring that fall is here with pumpkins placed on steps and in garden areas. The mornings are crisp, while the afternoons are still lukewarm. High School football is in the air and the laughter of children's voices fill the playgrounds at recess time.

Pulling the comforter up in the chill of the morning and wishing to stay in bed, all comfy and cozy, is a wonderful feeling this time of the year.....as autumn leaves start to fall.........

Yes I know!

Yes I know it's been a while since I wrote anything. Time just seems to be swirling past me with no concern that I have a cadrillion things to do. But alas, it does. And even this morning I have but just a few minutes (literally). So I thought I'd try to grab those few minutes which is like trying to capture a butterfly with a fishing net....and let everyone know I was still here and still trying to find time to write. Tonight is my writing workshop so I'll have at least 3 hours to write and share my writing with the class......perhaps tonight's writing will be here tomorrow. Have a wonderful day and I'll be back soon.

Days flying by....Fall rushing in...

Well gracious, where have the days gotten off to? Could it possibly be that I last wrote in my blog on Sunday and here we are on the dawn of a Friday starting the following weekend?

Just as usual the minutes, hours, days and weeks just seem to fly by. I guess it happens that way when you are content with where you are in life. And that I certainly am. Content and blissfully happy. Each day when I drive down my street after a day at work and pull into my driveway--I hit the button to close the garage door behind me, I turn off my car and all the day’s frustrations just seem to melt away. For I am home….truly where my heart is. Home, that is a castle to me; Home, that is a comfort, warm and full of love, friendship, long talks; Home, clean and comfortable; Home, where ‘my love’ shares his life with me. But then that’s what home is supposed to be isn’t it?

Yesterday morning, Kev, our local weather man used one of the “F” words on the morning news!!! Well actually he used two of the “F” words!!! Aghhhhhhh! He said “Frost” and “Flurries”. Say it isn’t so! This morning we are supposed to be in the upper 30’s and with a quick check on weather.com there it is. At 5:09 A.M. on Friday morning we are 39 degrees…..Good morning “Fall”! But those words only apply to the tippy top of the mountains 5 hours away. Here it will be another glorious fall day in Maine. The four seaons unfolding at just the right time. Each season bringing with it various joys, sights and sounds. I'm not sure there are many other places where you can have crisp cool mornings that turn into beautiful sun filled 70's. Where even in the winter, with snow on the ground, days are filled with laughter, snow tubing, skiing and wonderful walks. And the summers, although they can be very warm at times are usually in the 70's or 80's. Maine is truly as it's state slogan says "Life the way it should be"

Fall in New England is a wonderful time though ….really. I love fall, I’m a fall girl (you know on the makeup and clothes color chart!). November birthday....all that sort of thing. I love the colors of fall-- gold, brown, russet, crimson, terracotta, faded shades of green and yellow. And then of course, for those of you who know me really well….even though it’s not a fall color….mix any of those with turquoise….and there you have her - Peggy! When the leaves start changing and filling our views with their magnificent colors, it is truly breathtaking. Soon all the “leaf peepers” will travel up this way to enjoy God’s artwork.

This week has really flown by, but it’s been a good week. I started back to school on Tuesday night. Well it’s a school of sorts. I attend a writer’s workshop where we get a prompt (with examples from published writers), write for an hour and then read back to the class what we wrote and get critiqued. I love it….no wait, let me say that again…I LOVE IT!! This session’s class is completely full with 15 or 16 writers. Some of the writers have been writing for a long time. Some of the writers have had a few things published. Some are hoping to have something published someday (like me)….maybe that’s something for which everyone in the class hopes. Some of the writers are there for the first time dipping their toes into the writer’s water, taking that scary first step to let someone else hear what and how they write. I am always amazed at all the different styles and feelings that evoke from the words I hear. I yearn to write like some of them do…. with such feeling and passion; intertwining words into sentences into thoughts into plots into stories….into “best sellers”. I love words and I love writing…..

Have a truly splendid day!

Take care of yourself, whatever you do. There aren’t many people as special as you.

Let the rain fall....

It’s raining this morning. The rain is not torrential, but rather slow and drippy accompanied with gloomy gray skies and that raw cold feeling that some falls bring, especially in New England. It’s a day that reminds us that there will be several to follow and then the winter snow…days when there won’t be much work done outside. And so we make the best of the clearer, sunnier, warmer days to do the things that must be done. Yesterday, for example, was window washing day at my house. Window washing is not a chore particularly relished with great joy and hoopla, but one that must be done none-the-less. Window washing is one of those chores that, like mowing the grass, have a beginning and an end that you can visibly see. And so when done….you mark it off your “to do” list. (Hands swished together.. . “There that’s done, thank goodness, until the spring cleaning”).

But I don’t look at the gloomy rain as all bad.

In our house gloomy rainy days and the onset of winter bring a smile from thoughts of comfort food. This afternoon the delicious smell of roast pork in the oven will waft through the kitchen and dining room and even twirl silently up the stairs making us take a deep breath in, close our eyes and momentarily dream of how it will taste. We call roast pork a winter meal, but it will do just fine for this raw chilly damp Sunday. We’ll have mashed potatoes and carrots and some of the smoothest, most golden, beyond delicious, roast pork gravy that my sweet partner makes as though he were a famous chef at one of the best restaurants in the world (thank heaven it’s my kitchen). It is the finest kind!

And we may have gold and white corn, which will soon be out of season to our great dismay. I get tickled at myself for how I look at an ear of corn. While other people study and examine great things, I am philosophic about an ear of corn. Well just think about it. The packaging of an ear of corn would make any U.P.S. store green with envy. There is, if you will watch carefully as you shuck it, many layers of rough tough leaves followed by a soft layer of strings of luxuriously soft corn silk. All of those layers protecting the moist ear of corn. I won’t get all religious on you….but I believe someone bigger and wiser than us all had a hand in that packaging. I place it right up there with the flowers that are not much bigger than a pen head. I marvel at their perfection and sweetness. I marvel at the works of God.

But as the dreary rain falls, I think how blessed we are. We’re not facing the devastation of hurricane Ike, which by the way makes a heavy snow fall or even a long winter not seem so bad at all. And as sure as the rain is here today….there may be sunshine tomorrow or the next day.
So let the rain fall, let the fog roll in…. as the smell of the pork roast fills our home.

I am blessed. Life is good.

Time is moving on

I woke up this morning to the glorious sounds of birds singing, calling to their mates, waking up the world. The sun is out after a day of rain and coldness; a coldness that is a sure sign that fall is rushing in with winter on her heels. Up here it happens quickly just as the summer passes quickly. It seems like only yesterday we were cheering the days when the temperature was rising and we could on the "selected day" (Memorial Day), get out, along with all our neighbors and plant our annual flowers....the ones that would fill our yards with color, so welcomed after the long hard cold white of winter, that last year seemed to never want to end. And it seemed like only yesterday we watched the miracle of nature as the perennials poked their heads through the ground after laying dormant under the blanket of snow. Perennials that once again would turn into beautiful full grown plants....flox in hot pink, purple, brilliant yellow, white.....tiny flowers of blue and gold....all standing straight and vibrant, fully aware of what their mission is...........to remind us that spring is a time of renewal....that no matter how bad things might seem....time does not stand still....things change and if we just hang in there...we will find a smile on our faces again. What a grand lesson nature teaches us with her seasons.

Last year about this time....perhaps a little more into fall....when the leaves were really beginning to change color and the cold breeze left no doubt that summer was well on her way out I looked around at the changing trees in our New England yard and these words came to me....I hope you enjoy them...

PACK UP YOUR THINGS MY LOVELY SUMMER GIRL
FOR SADLY BRIGHT SUNDRESSES NO LONGER FLIT AND FURL
YOU’LL NOW WEAR FROCKS OF GOLD AND RED
ROYAL CRIMSON RIBBONS TIE ROUND YOUR DRYING HEAD
THE DAFFODILS HAVE ALL NOW GONE TO BED….

YOUR HAIR WILL FLIP AND TURN IN THE COLD WIND
AND TO THE GROUND PIECES OF YOUR CROWN YOU’LL SEND
AND WHEN FULL FORCE IS FELT…SOMETIMES YOU’LL BEND
AND YET YOU WILL NOT FALL
FOR WE ARE WATCHING YOU TO SET OUR CLOCK
AS TIME IS MOVING ON….

YOUR ARMS WILL BE COVERED WITH WHITE HEAVINESS
AND YET YOU’LL FEEL NO PAIN
WE CALL YOU BEAUTIFUL, MAGNIFICENT,
AND YET YOU ARE NOT VAIN
YOU WILL LOOK THIN AND WE WILL CALL YOU BARE
OUR HEARTS WILL BREAK FOR WHAT WE THINK… NO LONGER THERE
BUT IN YOUR DEPTHS MUCH LIFE DOES STILL REMAIN
SOON SOME OF YOU WILL GIVE UP SWEETNESS THAT WE DRAIN
YOU ARE A QUEEN AND VERY TALL YOU STAND
YOU ARE OUR HOPE IN WINTER’S WONDERLAND
AS TIME IS MOVING ON…


AND THEN ONE DAY A TINY SIGN WILL SHOW
AND FROM THAT SIGN NEW LIFE SOMEHOW YOU’LL GROW
FROM A TIGHT NUB OF NEWNESS-- OF GREENISH GOLD
FULLNESS WILL SWIRL OUT AND THEN UNFOLD
……..TO FILL YOUR HEAD WITH A NEW RICH CROWN
AND YOU WILL LIFT OUR SPIRITS ONCE AGAIN
SWEET SPRINGTIME RAINS WILL RENEW AND REFRESH
YOU’LL SPREAD YOUR ARMS AND SHOW OFF YOUR GREEN DRESS
AS TIME IS MOVING ON….

BLUE SKIES WILL BE YOUR BACKGROUND
THE SUN WILL MAKE YOU GROW
SWEET GENTLE SUMMER RAINS WILL MOISTEN YOU
AND SET YOUR CROWN AGLOW
YOU’LL SHELTER US FROM BRIGHTNESS
AND COOL US FROM THE HEAT
PROVIDE A PLACE FOR US TO WRITE
AND WE SIT AT YOUR FEET
….AS TIME IS MOVING ON

AS TIME IS MOVING ON, YOU ARE …
THE ONE THAT WE LOOK UP TO
THE TOWERING BEAUTY QUEEN
A STRENGTH ON A COLD NIGHT
A SIGN OF RENEWAL WITH BUT A HINT OF GREEN
A SHELTER TO AN APPLE, A HOME TO A SWEET PEAR
A RAINBOW OF WARM COLORS NO OTHERS CAN COMPARE
YOU’RE ROOTS RUN DEEP AND WHEN WE LOOK AT YOU, WE SEE
THAT MOTHER NATURE BLESSED US,
WITH YOU…MY PRECIOUS TREE.

Whimseys Writings And Thoughts

And so I will begin, perhaps for you or perhaps just for me. This will be a place for me to communicate with you and myself. My journey has been my own, not so different from many. Perhaps with more sadness at times, but also with great joy. I have met many people who have changed my life, enriched my life, each one a small piece of what I am today. My writing is my joy and at least here I can bring my daily thoughts, hopes dreams, griefs, adventures (as dull as they sometimes are) to a holding spot. A mosaic, if you will, to draw from for future writings that might become published.......in my wildest dreams. I hope you will visit often, my family and friends.....I'll be here thinking of you....and writing.