dreams made real

It's interesting to think about how every piece of architecture most likely 

begins with pencil and paper, or computer-aided drawings. All begin as a dream or idea.

 I'm always drawn to architecture of all types so I had a hard time choosing from among many 

photos for Mary's challenge today. These first three are all of the city where I live, 

and I love this one above that shows the contrast between old and new.

When our boys were little we often went up to the city to watch construction 

on some of these tall buildings, especially the tallest one in the background.

Chicago last fall.

 A large house in a small Pennsylvania town. As much as I love 

the geometric details of large city buildings, 

I think I prefer the gentle curves of an old home.

Please visit Mary's Little Red House for more on this subject!

oval delight

I recently made a crockpot breakfast casserole that I found on a cooking blog. It is basic and flexible––you can have about anything you want in it.  I'll just tell you how I made it.

Grease an (oval) large crockpot. Place one to two slices of old French bread broken into chunks. Next add whatever you want. I put in sliced mushrooms, olives, browned onions, some chopped pieces of turkey bacon and some small bits of broccoli. Once that's in, you mix 4 eggs with 1/4 to 1/2 milk and a pinch of salt and pour over other ingredients. Top with 1/2 cup of shredded Cheese. Cover and set your crock pot for 1 1/2- 2 hours on high.  What amazed me is that it lifted out perfectly intact. I pulled out my mother's 70 year old platter, and it gave it a beautiful presentation. This was sure yummy and served the two of us with leftovers.

action

It's hard to pin a 20 month-old boy down for a smiling, still photo when his main 

goal in life seems movement and climbing anything he can find to climb.

The other day he made me a plastic sandwich. 

Then he found a donut for dessert and leaned in close as he handed it to me 

and said "shoc-o-late." Love a little man who knows chocolate, and can 

say the word so well, repeating it again and again.

Littlest One moves up to Middle One later this month. 

He is in for a big surprise when Baby Sister arrives!

Joining Mary's Little Red House for Monday Mosaics.

full of hope

A bride's train, ready to head down the aisle, full of hope for a new life together ....

Cake dishes stacked in readiness to celebrate that hope ...

Love letters filled with hope for a future together ...

Joining Mary's white photo challenge today.

Due to some questions about this post, I will add that the photos making up the "story" are random: our niece's wedding train from last July; dessert dishes at a wedding reception a year ago, and, my parents' love letters. All filled with hope for sure.

love notes

All images have been used in the past on podso, now just embellished a tad! I am participating in Vee's monthly notecard party. Please see Vee's blog to enjoy a feast for your eyes.

And my thanks to so many of you for your kind words, thoughts, and prayers over the past seven weeks.

and then it snowed

 It seems that in movies at least, funerals seem to take place in the rain. And so it was for my mom.
A cold, damp rainy day that got surprised by rain changing every so often to big white
flakes falling from the sky. We were amused. We had hoped for some
snow all winter and it finally came on the day we celebrated her life.
The snow did not stick on the ground, but it surely added to the day.

The sun came out for a bit in the afternoon and then the sky suddenly darkened. 

Thunder clapped, lightening briefly filled the sky and suddenly snow fell in a serious manner. 

Huge beautiful flakes quickly whitened the ground and clung to the trees.

 It was a gorgeous way to end the day. 

Temperatures dropped and by morning we still looked out on a winter wonderland. 

How beautiful to see the snow clinging to spring blossoms against a deep blue sky! 

What a brief, but beautiful gift. If mom even noticed, I'm sure she smiled.

Please see Marys Little Red House for more Mosaics!

comic relief

Laughter is good medicine, even when sadness is squeezing my heart. When I was going through some of my mother's things this week, I found her lipstick and thought, "I can just bring this home and use it." I opened it to see how much remained.

Have you ever seen the funny chart that shows lipsticks and what personality traits they portray? I was simply amazed at my mom's lipstick compared to mine. Hers says so much about her: calm, sweet, always grateful, shy, never complaining ... and mine?

I can just picture my mom daintily patting her lips with her lipstick. For me, a quick swipe as I dash to the next thing. I don't really know what it means on the chart, but there's an obvious difference. I just know I wish I was more like my mother.

And, it makes me laugh.
(I should say mom's is the conservative-looking, tidy one on the right).

glory day

 I journeyed with my mother as close as I could to heaven's gate. 

Then it seemed as if angels took over. What a glory day that was for us.
I was privileged to be with her as she slipped away quite triumphantly, 

all suffering ended. It was a most beautiful experience. 

And then, what a reunion for her:

"But I know at my journey's end, they are saving [her] a place

At a table bright with candlelight and linens edged with lace.

The ones so dear from [her] time down here are saving [her] a place."

from a song written by R*bin and L*nda W*lliams

Photo: my mother's hands being held by our pastor as he knelt by her bed.

the sweetness of home

There is probably nowhere I'd rather be than home. Home is where we're surrounded 

by things that we love, things that express who we are,

memories of good times around our table,

and objects that tell about our history. I look at this cabinet and wonder about the homes of generations back in my family who owned it and loved it like I do. And while I love the outside garden, flowers and trees, it's the inside that brings the comfort and is where we feel most "at home." I get a similar sense when I think back to my home growing up, and even the comfort of my grandparents' houses. Such a sense of security.

This photo has a lot tucked in it to tell about us, but probably what I love the most is Rapunzel's braid. Do you see it? New happy memories are forming in our house with our grandchildren. I hope someday that they too will talk of fond memories of their grandparent's home.

Mary's blog is talking about home today. You will enjoy reading other posts there.

color

Pennsylvania city

Maternal Kiss by Mary Cassatt, 1896

Treat on the table at a recent writing class

not much pine

Years back the Gardener's college basketball coach wrote a book about "The Sweet Scent of Pine." It was about all you learn sitting on the bench, hoping for your turn to go into the game. The night before my mother became ill, we went to an exciting college game at the big arena in our city. There was not much bench sitting that day as foul trouble kept the bench active. I love a close game that keeps us on the edge of our seats, and this one did not disappoint. Plenty of action.

I was fascinated by the views of a packed arena. But what really impressed me was the people in blue standing at every section, facing away from the game (that must have been hard!) with full attention constantly focused on studying the stands. Watching for anything suspicious I guess. Yes I felt safer, but saddened that this has to be so. (phone pictures, sorry!)

Joining Mosaic Monday at Mary's Little Red House.