Books! Books! Books!

Last summer, in a trip down memory lane, I found two new authors in one of the best bookstores - if not THE best - in North Central PA - Otto Bookstore in Williamsport, PA. 

Two new paperbacks traveled to Canada with me on our "consolation" cruise after the kids moved to France. Elly Griffiths is the author of one of those books, and of at least three mystery series.  Since August, I have read all 15 of her Ruth Galloway series - about an archaeologist in Britain, most of her Max Mefisto series, and the four books in her Harbinder Kaur series. But, wait, there is at least one more series that I have not tried! These titles are full of local detail and complicated characters and narrators that the readers' suspect may be unreliable. Hard to put down! Warning: I have lost sleep! Nuff said.

Claudia Gray is the other author. She is wildly prolific, writing fan fiction based on the X-Files, Star Wars, and I think another franchise. The series I stumbled across has only 5 books in it.  It features Jonathan Darcy - whose parents are the romantic duo from Pride and Prejudice - and a young lady named Juliet Tilney. They meet at a house party held by Mr. and Mrs. Knightley (from Emma). When Mr. Wickham (BOOO! Hisss!) crashes the party and winds up dead, our two young detectives must skirt around social roadblocks in pursuit of justice. I have already ordered the latest book due out in a month or two. Jane Austen fanfic is the best!

Mom and I are reading Fannie Flagg and loving it. We read The All-Girl Filling Station's Last Reunion this winter. Wow! Flagg can make you laugh and then, make you close the book so you can have a good cry. The underappreciated WASP program of WWII gets full coverage in this story when a middle aged woman suddenly discovers she is not who she thinks she is. Her search for answers leads her into history. SOOO GOOD!

We are reading Standing in the Rainbow now and it is perfect. Each chapter is made up of small stories about the characters in the town of Elmwood Springs. Missouri. Each story is complete in itself. Old folks like Mom and me do not have to worry about unanswered questions or trying to remember clues. And, of course, there is a lot of laughter and some good old-fashioned heartbreak - the kind that you know you will always feel but can bear.

Well, that's my update. Tomorrow, we board a plane for France and I am a little worried (since the US airports are a mess these days), and a whole lot excited. I can't wait to see my sweet son, his lovely wife and the grandest grandgirl in the western world! 

Read on.  I need new books! 

 

 

 

 

Knots and News

 When the school year begins, I make my new resolutions.  A major one this year is; WRITE MORE. I like the idea of an audience for my writing so, here I am, back again. Writing more posts.

This morning, I went over to Mom's because I left my phone there overnight.  (I forgot it.) AND I set up her pill box on Saturday morning for the following week.

While I did that chore, she got dressed. She shoved her sneaker across the table to me when she came out.

Huh!? "I broke the shoelace," she sighed.

I am not the world's best knot tier. (Tie-er?) My first attempt didn't allow the lace to be pulled tight.

I reached way, way, way  back in my memory to "right over left, left over right" GSA knot tying days and managed by a miracle to make a sturdy, tight, square knot and we put "shoelaces" on her shopping list for Monday. 

Mom days are still full of card games and walks - although the walks are shorter now. Life goes on and it changes, too. So my family's news is next. 

  Our family - our son, his wife and the grandteen - has moved to France.  It's been three weeks. A new school year has meant - since preschool - pick-up rotation for Gramps and me. Grandteen would be in high school this year but... she's in France. We are not crossing the Atlantic to retrieve her. Her school day starts at 8 am and lasts until 5:30 pm.  They get a decent lunch break and I hear the food is excellent.  Also, classes are not held on Wednesday afternoons. Do I miss my son, my daughter-in-law and my granddaughter? That goes without saying so I won't.

I have lost 25+ pounds on a rather severe "diabetes reversal" eating plan.  I need new clothes. I miss bread

We have many, many sunflowers in our gardens, front and back. 

And we went on a cruise to ease the first two weeks of missing the family. 

 Mom is 99. Her eyesight fails. Her hearing is creative a lot of the time.  And her step can be unsteady. She has trouble naming the right child sometimes. BUT she always knows when she's speaking with one of her kids. The rest of the world is on their own.  I tell her this. "If you forget my name, just remember that I love you."

We worry about her. Deciding when to call in the cavalry is hard. She stills dresses and washes herself, gets her own breakfast and can heat up the homemade meals we stock her freezer with. All that could disappear with one fall, one wrong step. We take turns making dinners and eating with her. We nag her about eye drops. We get her to doctor's appointments and grocery shop with her. Some of us live hours away. We are all getting older but we all do what we can.

This has become my life. 

When I sat down, I thought that knotting that shoelace had some message in it.  I'm sure you can find meaning in it. Share your thoughts if you want.  To me, it was just the continuation of the flow of love from my mother to me and back again.  Thanks for reading.

 

 

Losing Things

This post was written 2 months ago. Things are still the same. I lost my purse today.  I had it when I left my Mom's house. And when we headed off to retrieve the grandteen from summer activities, that purse had disappeared.

Or, did I have it when I left my Mom's? I called her. My brother helped her look and, no purse.

Well we got back from grandteen retrieval and I searched again.  Every room on the first floor, every room on the second floor. I even searched the guest "apartment". Where the heck was that thing?

Back to Mom's. Nope not there.  

As I strapped myself in, in my Mom's driveway, I remembered that I shifted my purse to fasten my seatbelt earlier in the day. I had it hanging cross body.  So it had to be at home.

After another circuit of all the usual suspect places, I went upstairs to retrieve my credit card info to report the loss.

This is a necessary step when you lose a purse with a wallet and other essentials for life in these modern times.  But, I remembered that I HAD put a plastic bag in the plastic bag holder in the cellarway. Before I made a single phone call, I opened the cellar door. 

There was my purse - hanging from a hook with my aprons. 

Losing things is becoming a way of life for me. The worst thing is that I have no memory of how things get where I find them. According to a well-known organization that serves people who are a half century old or older,  having no memory of putting something where you find it is a warning sign of mental decline.

I am proud that I was able to retrace my steps. I never believed that my purse was truly lost. I remembered hanging it on a hook.  And I thank my lucky stars and Saint Anthony that I looked one last place before I called the credit card company. 

 

 

Five+ Things to do with an Aging Mom

 I started this post two months ago. Here is an update!

My Mom is just shy (seriously - 2 weeks away) of 99 years old! She can still walk, keep up a conversation, read a little bit. Her eyesight is failing and her hearing, even with hearing aids, is iffy.

(For instance, I told her "Stop yawning. Or I'll fall asleep." She asked, "Why will you call the police?")

No matter. Mom and I have a lot of fun. Here are five of the things we do together.

1. Play simple card games. Mom can still play bridge. I can't. We play Skip-Bo, a game that just requires the players to count from 1 to 12- and keep track of piles of cards. If one of my siblings is in the house we can play Uno. You need to know your colors and numbers in THAT game.

2. Jigsaw puzzles.  Mom's 1000 piece jigsaw puzzle days are long gone.  She does like the large pieces of a 100 piece jigsaw puzzle. The pieces have to be large enough for her to distinguish the edges.  Here is a website that sells these larger puzzles.

3. Walk.  Mom can walk with a cane.  If your elderly person lives where there are pavements, walk slowly and warn of obstructions well in advance.  We do .25 mile and .5 mile walks.  We also drive to parks with well paved paths.

Taking wheelchair bound elders out to a park with well-paved paths works, as well, although it might be a little harder to manage. 

4. Read.  Mom is working on historical fiction right now but her eyes tire easily.  I read out loud to her and we both get to enjoy the book.  Parents with trouble keeping track of a plot might enjoy short story collections instead.

5. Chair exercises. This one is for me.  I need the exercise, too. Video services like Youtube or Vimeo, carry lots of 10 and 15 minute exercise routines for people with limited mobility. Or for people who are out of shape and want to ease back into exercising.

6. Look at old photos together. I read that sharing old photos helps older people keep their memories. The snapshots can reawaken memories in people who have lost the ability to remember the past. It's worth a try.

7. Watercolors and coloring. My Mom likes watercolors. Me, not so much. One of my sisters gives Mom a line drawing and Mom adds watercolors to it. Mom is good at this.        Coloring I can do. And so on rainy days Mom and I sometimes get out the pencils and the books. For people with poor eyesight, coloring pages with large areas and a minimum of narrow or small spaces to color are best. 

Things to try!

Crafts:  We have NOT done crafts but it is on my list of things to do. 

Sing-alongs: Print out a few lyric sheets of songs your older person may enjoy. Then find a karaoke version on YouTube for background music. 

Have fun with your old people for as long as you can.  

 

 

 

Flowers from the Mud - March 15, 1 pm

Flowers from the Mud - March 15, 2025, 1 pm

  You are not alone.

Right now we face;                                             -rising prices,                                                       -housing shortages,                                             -the fear of losing health care,                           -worry about our jobs                                         - anger at changes in our country's values          -concern about the safety of our private    financial information                                           -confusion about what the heck is going on in our government or the world,                             -a lack of kindness and caring.                             

On March 15th at 1 pm, at the Peace Pole, in Bethlehem's Rose Garden, join us as we acknowledge our concerns and explore ways to find hope. 

As that time approaches, I will post the Flowers from the Mud website with resources and more information on this event. please join us.

 

Latest Book Obsession

 Jane Austen meant nothing to me until Freshmen year of college.  Our Intro to the Novel instructor, an very tall man named Clarence something, led us through Emma.

He pointed out Austen's gift for describing the ridiculous in her time period's fashions and mores, and her ability to lead her main characters to better choices and happier endings. I went on to read more Jane on my own. Thank you, Clarence.

So when I saw a book on my library's Staff Picks display titled Jane and the Last Mystery; a Jane Austen mystery, I gave it a chance.

It was the LAST book in a multi-book series and the first book of my latest book obsession.

Jane makes a great fictional character. The footnotes and end pages show the research that Stephanie Barron, the series' author, has done into Austen's life. Many of the settings were visited by Austen. A lot of the characters did actually live at the same time as Austen. Barron is true to the Austen family, Jane's mother and father, her sister, Cassandra, and the five healthy Austen brothers; James, Edward, Henry, Charles and Frank.

I love the attention to detail in fashions and behaviors. Barron's version of Jane Austen manages to straddle all social strata and gender expectations. 

I know more about Napoleon, and England's efforts to stop the "Monster" from invading the British Isles, than I ever wanted to. Political intrigue allows Jane to do a little spying and meet dashing characters.

So, yes, I thoroughly enjoy this series. I wish that Jane could continue but Barron ended her series in a respectful manner. 

Give Jane Austen mysteries a try.

 

What a YEAR!!

It's been a Year!  I saw beautiful sunrises, watched squirrels beg, followed birds in flight. I walked with my friends around the neighborhood and stopped on the hillside to watch the sun set. I stood on shorelines and watched gulls swoop low.

Friends and family gathered around our table to laugh and eat and reminisce. My worship community is tight and striving to spread peace. I walked in the Peace Walk for the first time in years.

I took a poetry course and wrote some poems! 

I spend a lot of time with my 97 year old Mom, and her struggles to keep her sight. (So far so good!)

And a lot of time with our son and his family and our granddaughter who is as tall as I am, now.

We survived a lot of sad and shocking events in our world this year. Wars in the Middle East, in Africa, in the Ukraine. Forest fires that spread smoke all through North America. Extreme weather. Gun violence. Etc. Etc. yada yada yada.

We DID survive. And where there is Life, there is Hope.

What do you hope for this coming year? Hope means we still have a future.  Here are a few of my hopes:

I hope to use my time more wisely.  I hope to smile more. I hope to write more.

I hope for a cleaner world. I hope to make changes in my lifestyle to bring that cleaner world closer.

I hope for Peace. I hope to spread peace wherever I can.

I hope for Kindness. I hope to be kind in meaningful, measurable ways.

I hope for Truth, Justice and the Global Way*! Almost like Superman! 

I hope you are all happy and healthy and productive in 2024.

Happy New Year!!

*The original quote was "the American Way". But that has different meanings than it did in the 1950's. I have no idea what the Global Way is.  I hope that it will be a truly inclusive, accepting, generous, truthful, hardworking and respectful way of life.

 

Poetry

I am still alive. My absence is a mystery even to me. But I still have things to write about.

For the holidays, my son gave me a gift certificate to take a writing class. I signed up for a poetry course. It ended last week.

Somehow I missed that the last poem was not to be submitted. It has been such a charge to have an audience - even of one, the professor - for every poem I wrote these ten weeks. And he said nice things - mostly.

So, I wrote that last poem. A poem that would encapsulate something that we carried with us from the "rock" stars of our childhood.

Here it is:

Needs

We lock our fingers together

and mime our imprisonment.

As the shaggy boys harmonize, 

we clutch our none-too-impressive chests.

We are in "Chains!" and 

we swirl and dip and sidestep - as one.

 

We trained for years -

singing rounds in the car.

Mom taught us songs 

about "bananas"

and "chasing rainbows" 

and "old mill streams".

 

Now the music is our own.

No Mr. Sandman, No Stranger in Paradise.

All our very own. The words a code

 our mother cannot decipher.

 

And then she does. 

We come home from school

And "Yesterday" plays on the stereo.

 

The shaggy boys are older.

They play alien sounds.

They sing of other needs

beyond love and dancing.

 

We sit in the evening

reading or knitting;

we harmonize to the arrival of the sun

or the "wind that turns me on".

The music knots around us

and in us,

then and into the stars.

Bound by more than blood. Bound

by the need to sing.

 

Thoughts on First Day

 The Quaker Meeting that I attend has ventilation problems. That's never a good thing but when viruses gather where people gather, it can be a bit dodgy. So, we crack the windows to make sure the air moves around, even now, in Winter.

We keep our coats on as we sit in silence. This morning, I remembered my childhood Winter Sundays. The pastor of the Catholic Church my family belonged to poured the parish's money into the school. The nave had ceilings that were as high as heaven. The aging, overburdened furnace churned out heat and it sailed immediately to those heights. We never took our coats off unless we were lucky enough to sit right next to the heating vents.

Those memories made my Winter coat feel like a hug as I sat in Meeting. I imagined people long gone putting their arms around my shoulder - Friends who have moved to other states or other parts of the world. I remembered F(f)riends and family whom I will never see again in this lifetime. This morning, they sat with me, as I huddled in my coat.

I remembered teachers and the other students at that parish school. They sat with me in Meeting, too. Worship shared has no boundaries.

If our ventilation problem isn't solved by summer, we may end up meeting under the trees in our shorts. And that will be fine.

Where two or more are gathered in the name of peace, there also will peace be found - even if it comes in a Winter coat.

The Stories We Tell Ourselves

The moon over the sunrise. A gift!

 In 2020, I learned that the world is not as safe as I may have thought. The virus, the political arena, the arguments and disagreements, - all added up to make me anxious. I was not alone.

2021 was not a whole lot better, with violence in our capital and the return of mass shootings. (Even shooters stayed home during the pandemic's first year.)

2022 - more of the same. My disillusionment was becoming a world view.

I dropped out of social media. I went to ground. And I told myself that the world was an unsettled, unsettling place.

Over and over again, I warned myself about real and imagined dangers. Over and over again, I congratulated myself on wisely hunkering down, laying low, disengaging.

Now, I am teaching a short "stories-we-tell" workshop to the children of my worship group. What a wake-up call! 

The world is complicated! The world is full of flawed and wonderful people, intriguing living things, beautiful rocks and trees, (awful traffic, annoying noises, too - let's be honest). 

Still, there is light - Light - every morning, even if the skies are gray. If I tell myself that the world is full of danger, I will treat everything and everyone as an enemy. Do I want to live in a world like that? Does that make me happy?  Um, no.

If my conversation is ONLY full of the way people irritate me, or close calls with disaster, or wrongs that I have suffered, YUCK! How can I bear getting up each day?

Somewhere in our suffering, we have to find birdsong, or cloud dances, or funny hats, or smiles.

The Attitude Doctors tell us to find three things to be grateful about each day. Make it easy on yourself. Be grateful for ONE thing! Just one. But be grateful for that one thing several times during the day. Maybe in a day or two, you will notice another thing to be grateful about.

Here are some suggestions:

Hot toast with your favorite spread. Just the smell is a gift.

Birds in puddles - they are seriously silly.

Roofs!

Warm socks.

Air.

The fact that things will change - hopefully for the better.

Can you walk? Be grateful. Can you see? Find interesting things to see.

You can change scary stories to ones of possibilities, tales of comfort, the history of growth.

Time to crawl out of the bunker. You can do it.

(Right now, I am grateful for radiators and tea kettles.)

 

 

Mrs. Harris Goes to Paris - remembering Paul Gallico

 When I saw the title of the new movie version of this book, I knew it had to be a typo. The book was published - in 1958 - under the title, Mrs. 'Arris Goes to Paris.  I just learned - from Goodreads - that in Britain, the title was Flowers for Mrs. Harris. Notice that the British title did not drop the "H" from Mrs. Harris' name. I wonder if that bowdlerized spelling was considered a slur. Hmmm.

The author was Paul Gallico. I read all of the Mrs. Harris books. For a hardworking charwoman, she got around. She even went to Parliament.

I moved on to Gallico's less humorous works.  His first foray into authorship was as a "smart-alecky" movie reviewer. Then he became a sports writer. After asking if he could spar with Jack Dempsey, (he lasted two minutes), he wrote about the bout and his fortune as a sports writer was made.

Gallico was a storyteller at heart and in the late '30s he sold a piece of fiction to the movies, quit his sports writing job and moved to Europe to write fiction.

He made his mark with the novel The Snow Goose, the story of the friendship between a reclusive artist and the young girl who brings a wounded snow goose to the artist for healing. Every year the snow goose returns to the marsh where the artist lives. 

I read Gallico's books as a teen and all I could remember of this book was the returning goose and the boats rescuing soldiers at Dunkirk. The ending is bittersweet. I LOVED it. (I was young.)

Gallico wrote novels that will be familiar to movie goers - Thomasina, for instance. His Love of Seven Dolls (warning: this is a dated and sometimes troubling story) became the movie Lili  and was the inspiration for the musical Carnival. He wrote The Poseidon Adventure as well.

The 2022 movie version of Mrs. Harris Goes to Paris follows the 1992 movie that starred Angela Lansbury.

Looking into Gallico's work - 41 books, 20 or so movies - I realized I barely scratched the surface with Mrs. Harris, Thomasina and the The Snow Goose. I may have to find a few "sentimental" books by Paul Gallico.

Question of the day! What kid snacks did you eat?

My brothers and sisters and I were "free range" kids. Most kids in the 50s, 60s and 70s were. One of our favorite "ranges" was the corner store where Mom sent us with bottles to hand in for pennies or nickels. That was the recycling program of the time!

We took those nickels and pressed our fingers against the glass case where tri-colored coconut candies, candy necklaces, gumdrops, chocolate drops, wax lips, Necco wafers, chewy fruit slices, lay out on trays. "2 for 1c" or "1 for 1 c", (my keyboard no longer has the slashed "c" symbol that stood for a penny), OR, be still my greedy little soul, "3 for 1c" - at those prices, empty bottles bought us a paper bag of treasure!

Then we moved, much too far to walk to a corner store, too far from any store. So, we foraged for our snacks. Mulberries, wild raspberries, honeysuckle, - spring and summer was a veritable smorgasbord of stuff. Once, we even savored "onion" grass - wild onions with baby bulbs at the end. Once was enough for that snack.

In the Fall we ate the wild pears. So grainy! But still sweet enough for us to enjoy. In the winter, we ate crackers spread with jelly. On Bridge Club nights and the days after, we had pretzels, chips and candy! Popcorn! Oh, we loved popping corn on the stove. And Dad made us a treat he called a Black Cow - root beer and milk - yum! And Mom made an eggless, milkless chocolate cake that we adored. I still make it. Some people call it Wacky cake or Depression cake. I call it delicious.

I loved the fruit slices -Chuckles! - that came 4 or 5 to a pack - gummy candies liberally covered in sugar. I even liked the licorice slice that was always included. Next to that I loved the wild raspberries that will ripen soon.

 So the question of the day is this: What was your favorite kid snack? 

https://cdiannezweig.blogspot.com/2010/11/1950s-retro-candy-from-hometown.html

 

 

Question of the day! Doing without.

For Christians, it's Holy Week, the last week of the 40 day season of Lent. 

One of the traditions of Lent is to "give something up", do without something for all 40 days. I have always been totally dismal at this practice. So, here is the question of the day:

Did you ever "give something up" for a purpose? If so, what did (do) you usually give up?

Most major religions fast, or do without, sometime during their liturgical year. In some traditions, religious or cultural, fasting is part of coming of age, preparing for a major life change, or an effort to ensure a desired outcome in one's life. (A vigil before a battle, for instance, or fasting before a major exam, or giving up something during pregnancy.) Liturgically, fasting encourages atonement, empathy, and an appreciation of what the faster usually has. Fasting is considered a form of prayer.

Because I went to a parish school, announcing what we intended to "give up" during Lent was often a classroom activity.  I always gave up candy. Then I did a little mental bartering.  I went from ALL candy to CHOCOLATE candy to SNICKERS. What a cheater! When did I ever have access to Snickers bars?

By the time we entered the middle grades, we added activities to our fasting. "I won't play solitaire during Lent." "I won't borrow my sister's perfume during Lent." "I will not call my little brother a baby during Lent." OR instead of giving something up, we added things. "I will do my chores before Mom reminds me." I will take flowers to my grandmother every week." I will put half my allowance in the collection plate every Sunday."

The worst thing about announcing our "give ups" was that classmates could call us out.  And they did.

This year, I didn't give anything up. But I have decided to TRY really hard to avoid screen games during Holy Week. (This includes the morning word games I get in my email.) Will I make it? I can but try.

Tell me...

Did (Do) you ever give up something for a purpose? If so, what did (do) you usually give up?

The Librarian Always Rings Twice by Marty Wingate

The Librarian Always Rings Twice  by Marty Wingate, 2022

 

Hayley Burke returns as curator of the First Edition Society  and things are not going well. Charles Henry Dill, the only living relative of Lady Georgiana Fowling, the First Editions Society's founder, has wormed his way into being hired to assist Hayley. His only interest is to find a way to get more money from his aunts' estate.

When John Aubrey arrives at the First Edition Society's first open-to-the-public afternoon and announces that he is Lady Georgiana's grandson, it sends people who knew the late Lady Georgiana into eddies of suspicion. Lady Georgiana had no children as far as anyone knew.

There you have the set-up. Someone connected to John Aubrey is murdered. The open afternoons bring in all sorts of people, most dedicated to the Golden Age of Mystery and the authors thereof - Christie, Sayers, Wentworth, Marsh, Allingham - just to name a few. But some visitors may not be what they seem.

 

I finished this book last night. Today, I want to go back into the world of Bath, England and the library of the First Edition Society and the canals that crisscross the countryside and the narrow boats and a new character that exudes an almost fairy tale charm.  

Wingate populates each of her mysteries with several characters that may or may not be the culprit. Some we hope to see again. Most we'd just as soon avoid. This book was a poser. The mystery of the murder was not nearly as consuming as the mystery of who or what John Aubrey was. 

Also, now I have to read Daphne Du Maurier's Frenchman's Creek.  The Librarian Always Rings Twice is a charming book filled with charming people. Read it.

Making Stuff. Question of the day

When I get moody, I make stuff - muffins, slippers, origami frogs. My hands are busy. My brain is engaged and the moodiness turns from blue to bright - or brighter, at least.

 I have always looked at things and wondered. "How could I use this to make something new?"

One Easter, (I was about 8 years old) I gathered cones from one of our evergreens. It was Spring so the cones were long and tight. I decided that I could use them to make bunny figures. So I taped them together with cellophane tape- a long one for the body, wrapped in white copybook paper, and shorter cones for the legs. Then I taped on paper ears. I cringe to think of them now because they were not pretty at all. BUT I liked them.

I set them out in the living room, hoping that the Easter Bunny might take them away and share them with other children.  

They were still in the living room when I woke up on Easter morning. 

Nope! This bunny did not want my pine cone rabbits.

 

My parents just told me that the Easter Bunny probably had too much stuff to hand out already. My Dad was not very kind about it. I think he suggested that I toss my pine cone bunnies in the trash. Ouch.

I was not as crushed as I thought I would be. Even at that young age, I knew the difference between a fun idea and a successful follow-through of that same idea. My idea may have been fun but I failed in its execution.  

Sometimes, just making something is its own reward. We don't always need praise. We don't even need success. Nothing is wasted if it teaches us something or cheers us up.

So Question of the day: Have you ever made something that did not work out as planned? 

I made these bracelets. They worked out, I think.

 

Enthusiasm - Question of the Day?

 The license plate read ELMO! and hanging from the antenna was a little red muppet's face. It made me smile. I thought of how we all have enthusiasms - favorites - throughout our lives.

A friend's email address used to contain the letters "grdnr". Gee, I wonder what her enthusiam was.

My email address begins with the word "book."  Want to guess what one of my enthusiasms is?

Here are some things that catch my eye no matter when or where I see them. 

-Peeps - the JustBorn kind. I don't think they are very tasty but I love their plump shapes.

-Clouds - I get a little crazy about clouds. I have to keep my eyes down some days.

-Sparkly things - I am part crow, I guess. If I see a sparkly thing on a walk, I must stop and pick it up.

-Books - well, duh! and talking about books here are some more enthusiasms - or favorites.

-Seymour - the character in the Walter Wick books. I made a little Seymour character for us to play with one year.

-Elephant and Piggie - I know I am not alone in gravitating towards these characters in  Mo Willems' fabulous series.

-Winnie the Pooh and Eeyore and Piglet, et al. - The Ernest Shepard version. I am warming to Disney's bowdlerization of Milne's characters but, oh, I love the original Hundred Acre Woods.

So here is your question of the day. Do you have an enthusiasm, a favorite, a character or activity that you love?

Did you have one when you were younger? (Okay, two questions. You can handle it.)

In my teens, I collected little plaster elephants. I carried them in my purse to school and to work. No bigger than walnuts, they came in different colors. I had to have one of each. I have not thought of them in years. Then, I saw a car that announced that a grown-up still loved a little red muppet and I realized how much joy we can get from small enthusiasms.

Spring! Question of the day!

 Today we left our jackets at home and ventured out in our shirt sleeves! Spring doesn't arrive until Sunday morning but it beckoned to us with clear skies and balmy temperatures. The snow that fell on Saturday is G-O-N-E - GONE! 

So today's Question of the Day - or evening - is... what sight, sound or activity tells you that Spring has come?

Youngsters look forward to Spring sports - baseball, tennis, soccer - and games - pick up games of basketball, kickball, stickball, kick-the-can, capture the flag.

Gardeners look forward to snowdrops and crocuses and a chance to get out there and DIG!

Bird watchers look for migrating birds to return and nesting activity to begin. 

Last night, I am POSITIVE that someone in our neighborhood was out back grilling supper!

When I was a kid, duck eggs were an early sign of Spring.

 

My father walked to Mass most mornings in Lent and he walked home before we headed off to school.

One Spring, my brother and I took Dad's piety as a challenge so many mornings we walked with him - in to church, home again - and THEN - we walked with the younger kids back to school, which was right next to church.

At that time, the creek by our house was crowded with domesticated ducks. And those ducks laid their eggs just about anywhere. On the way home from church, my Dad urged us to find as many duck eggs as we could. Seriously.

The younger kids heard about this, and one day, as we walked home from school, my younger brother spied a duck egg in the creek. Splash! School shoes and uniform pants on, he jumped into the creek and came out holding a clean white egg.  He was so proud of himself.

Dad told us that eggs in the creek were off limits after that. His obsession for duck eggs only lasted that one Spring. My brothers and sisters still talk about duck eggs in our cakes and casseroles.

Spring is here - or soon to be. Birds will nest and lay eggs in hidden places. I will look in the grass and under the bushes as I walk by the creek looking in vain... for duck eggs.

Routine - Question of the Day

The question today is: Do you have a morning routine?

Today, I spoke with my brother who lives in Japan. During the pandemic, he started following a morning routine of self-care. I have noticed that he has become proactive about the pressures in his life. I wonder how much that morning routine has contributed to his improved mood.

I have another friend who has developed a morning routine. His health has improved and he feels more productive and less anxious.

Do you do something every morning - or most mornings - that helps you start your day?

I started my own morning routine. It gets interrupted by obligations but I try to finish each of the components as early in the day as possible. I have found that the routine improves my mood. (I HATE getting out of my comfy bed many mornings.) It gives me a feeling of control - a feeling that is missing in our lives these days. My routine also makes me feel cared for and valued. And everyone needs to feel valued.

Here is my morning routine:

Sun salutation - yoga; followed by tai chi. This usually takes 30 to 40 minutes.

Make my bed! After years of not taking the time to make my bed, I have become a crusader for this simple chore.  Call me crazy but I do like a neatly made bed.

Journal - I sit in the sun or in a sunny window. This journal is NOT about things I did or have to do or worries or gripes.  My morning journal is about what I see and hear and smell and feel. If an insight comes from observing, I write about that. If a question arises, I consider it.  I celebrate life and living, trains and crickets, birds and rabbits, squirrels, passers-by, barking dogs and snow, rain and wind. I chronicle trees and mist, shadows and clouds. It's awesome!

I'd love to hear about your morning routine.

Question of the day - Onion Snow

 The snow today reminded me of all the snows that we have lived through in March. Snow around the middle of March is sometimes called onion snow. It will take a better gardener than I to explain why.

Some gardeners want their peas planted by St. Patrick's Day, too. That's way too early for me.

The question of the day is:

What is your favorite snow memory?

I have a lot of favorite snow memories. When I was around 11, it snowed so heavily on Christmas Eve, that the Bishop announced that Catholics did not have to go to Mass that day. We went anyway! We walked up the hill from our house  (about half a mile) and a bakery truck picked us up and drove us the rest of the way to church (another half a mile at least). My Mom stayed home with the youngest children and Dad walked with us to Church. What an adventure! We have a picture of my four-year-old brother standing against a four foot snowdrift.

Thanks for sharing your memories!

Question of the day, #2

 What was your favorite hiding place?

Hmm. This is a hard one. We played hide and seek a lot. But I don't remember a particular spot. I sometimes hid in the closet, like a lot of kids.

When I worked with teens, we sometimes held after hours events. They were usually "meetings" but they always ended with a fun activity. Hide and seek in the library was a favorite. The rules were never under a desk with a computer. Never in the tech closet. After the second game, we added Never on top of the shelves. Yeah. Sigh. 

Now, I am not a little person and I am not agile. The teens asked me to hide and they found me right away. Once, though, I simply slipped behind the curtain in the corner and they were stymied. My partner in adult-ing and crime kept her mouth shut. They eventually found me but I had a few moments of quiet hiding.

Now I go upstairs to my sewing room to hide. Everyone needs a secret or not so secret spot.