keeping track

When I'm living right, I try to keep my focus on the positive. On gratitude. I look around at small things and big things that I'm grateful for. And yes, even difficult things, for there's usually good lessons there.  I have a little book where I try to keep track. It's a good exercise to write them down, and I can feel so humbled when I realize all there is to be thankful for.

Today I wrote down: "The constant encouragement of the 'Gardener.'" And, "A whole day with Little B." (yes, that's a day with my granddaughter today!) And, "The sound of crickets." As I sat on the porch this morning, they were as loud as ever. As much as I hate to meet them face-to-face, they do bring a comforting sound in the summer. It's the details I like to notice. Makes for a good start to the day.

city walk

Took a walk in a new park near the center of our city. Much beauty to see!  

See photo below in case you're wondering about the image in the lower right corner!

Linking to Mary's Little Red House for Mosaic Mondays!

once upon a post-script

I was touched at the number of you who affirmed my blog after my last post. I honestly wasn't out for that ... I was writing more about how I think I have nothing more to say, think about shutting down, and then something more comes along. Maybe that's the surprise pleasure (one of them at least) of blogging.

Anyway I did appreciate the comments because I don't have much confidence in myself, so it was nice to know some appreciate what I try to do here! Thanks! I also have had a very busy summer and find the creative juices flow less easily when life has a full plate. Big deadlines at work, helping both sons move and settle in new houses, adjusting to a new computer and design program, as well as a stubborn sinus infection have made it an unusual summer.

But I love "hope" --- what would life be like without it? And I have high hopes for the coming fall season. I'm hoping life will be simpler and I'm working to make it so.

once upon a post

Every so often I think it's time to put the "closed" sign on this blog. 

After nearly seven years, what more is there to say. But it's no secret that I have a

 pretty active mind. I don't need to listen to the radio when I drive. 

Yesterday when I arrived at work I could barely remember the drive, 

I had so much I was thinking about.

So this is how it happens. I walk through the kitchen and spot my red onion.

 I love to leave these in full view and consider them a simple, cheap,

 and beautiful additon to my home decor.  What a pop of color.

My mind began to consider how the simple things in life can bring us 

such enjoyment.  Such as a red onion. 

"Now, that might make an interesting post. I'd at least love to take a few pictures." 

The camera is always nearby. I took no more than five minutes to take the pictures, 

off load them onto the computer, and then another five to "edit" them

 (make them look more beautiful.) As I did that I wondered why we 

get such a kick out of close-ups in photos of things we can enjoy close up by just 

leaning in closer to look at the actual thing. 

Maybe it's just me, but I do love those close-up shots!

I put the images to my desk top and let them settle there for a day or two. 

Meanwhile in a tiny corner cupboard of my mind, I considered 

what I might say with these photos.

Another day, after I finished with some other computer work, 

I took a "creative break" and switched over to Podso's dashboard to write this post. 

I left it there in draft to simmer for awhile and edit it a time or two. And here we are. 

I guess Podso is not closed down yet.

How do your posts work?

quickie visit

Another drive by (camera) shot ... in the old city of Wilmington, NC near the beach. 

I simply love old houses and this one caught my eye. It would be so nice 

if I had a friend who lived in this house and she invited me for a visit.

 I just don't think 15 minutes would be long enough, do you?

Red Blocks

I think my father's love of bricks became mine. He loved brick streets and brick walls especially. And yes, built us a red brick house the year I was born. I remember so well watching bricks being made by hand out in the African countryside––a huge basin full of red clay slapped and smoothed into a rustic wood forms. And set to bake in the hot sun. Not all that different from making bread or cakes, really.

And what could be prettier than brick steps to leading to such a welcoming door?

Joining in Mary's Monday Mosaic at Little Red House. Visit to see more!

Lightening strikes . . . again and again ....

I was putting a load of wash in early one morning before heading to eldest's house to do some painting (I am the official family painter). A little white moth began to dive bomb around my head. At least one side of my head. It's no secret that I don't like things with wings flying inside my house ... birds, moths, bats ....  Nor do I like the surprise of little jumpers like crickets, which remind me of small frogs. But I digress.

The gardener was nearby and I called for him to help while I continued to load the washer. "Get this little moth, would you? He won't leave me alone." As the "moth" continued to fly at me, the gardener insisted I was imagining it. I twisted the dial to start the machine and turned off the light. It was barely dawn. I then realized I was seeing arcs of lightening to the side of my right eye. Not a little white moth. 

I was tired, I hadn't slept well after a busy weekend at work. I was sure the flashes were due to fatigue and would go away. The day got brighter and it seemed they were gone as I gave a second coat of paint to son's bathroom. I was so relieved. But I did keep watching for "clouds" or a "curtain" to fall over my eye (classic symptoms of retinal detachment, which I knew could be what I was dealing with).

Unfortunately as dusk approached later that day, I was disheartened to note the lightening reappeared and continued into the next morning.  I called the eye doctor and they said I must come in a.s.a.p., and they fit me in with a retinal specialist for that very afternoon. I began to be scared and started feeling a heaviness in my eye. Or was it my imagination?

After a two hours of waiting and varied exams, the Gardener and I left the doctors elated and very grateful that my eye was OK.  I only had PVD, "Posterior Vitreous Detachment." Totally age-related. Imagine that (hear sarcasm). And the heaviness in my eye? The doc looked gently into my fully dilated eyes and agreed it might be related to my reading about such a symptom. Imagination is my strong suit.

After a quick bite to eat we stopped by my mothers for a visit. We walked her down to the sun porch. It wasn't long after we settled in for a visit that a big storm arrived. Lightening flashed and thunder roared. I had a double dose of lightening it seemed. It struck again and again ... in the sky and in my eye. It reminded me of that old Lou Christie song so popular in the 60s ... remember it?  "There's a chapel in the pines . . ." Going on to the chorus, "Lightening strikes again and again ..."  My new theme song. (My symptoms may or may not go away, but I am already getting used to them.)

And note: If you ever experience such a thing, do not delay in calling  your eye doctor, just in case.

escape

Photo cards this month from posts several years ago of summer vacations 

in the mountains, and the lighthouse, obviously, at the beach!

Please visit A Haven for Vee for her monthly notecard party...a favorite of mine!

simply beachy

 We had not been to the beach at summer time in years. So the Gardener and
I slipped away in the middle of the week to use our choice hotel deal for two nights.
We had such a good time: walking on the beach,
 touring an old city by trolley; eating at interesting places, and ....

... walking around a Family Amusement park. It was mainly
for small children and we thoroughly enjoyed watching the excitement on
young faces and their exhausted parents. We actually felt somehow OK with the
 fact that those days were over for us! In fact one guy walked passed us
and said, "Wow, it looks like such fun to just sit and watch!"

Unfortunately our neighbor phoned us the last day to let us know a large limb 

had flown down from a tall tree and entered our house via the front window. 

So we rushed home to clean up before another storm arrived. 

Thankfully it's only the window ... 

Excuse the phone photos!

in the grocery line

It was her hands I noticed first, as she helped to load her groceries from counter into cart. Strong, aged, arthritic and obviously used to hard work. Firm but gentle. I could see them kneading dough and I could see them tenderly stroking the golden hair of a child. The kind of hands I love to watch.

Her gray hair was pulled back into a soft bun. She was tall and trim, dressed in black slacks and shirt, with a small black apron. Maybe she was coming home from work. Her groceries told me she was stocking up on supplies and that she cooked from scratch. She smiled readily and talked casually with the clerk.

Soft wrinkles lined her face. She exuded maturity, confidence, and at the same time apparently not concerned that she wasn't wearing the latest style, or that her hair had gone gray. She had reached that stage of life where she was comfortable with who she was.

As she headed out of the store, grocery bags piled high in her cart, I moved up to the counter. I wanted to follow her home and have a cup of tea at her kitchen table. I think I could learn things from her.

It was just one of those moments that I haven't forgotten.

(not my photo)

a first

I enjoyed a little recital when Little One finished a week at ballet camp. It was a lot of 

singing, hand motions, and a few twirls. Lots of fun. Little Brother seemed to take it all 

in. The busy activity and a few gold fish kept him entertained.

It came to me that this was a first ... of many. We are blessed to have our little ones in town. 

Joy.

Joining Mary's Little Red House for Mosaic Monday.

gifts from afar

I was awestruck as I unwrapped a birthday package from my sister. First of all, packages

 that come in the mail are always a treat. And then the unwrapping adds intrique

 and beauty to the whole experience. I love this color theme! And the gorgeous oversized mug 

just makes coffee (or soup!) an even better experience for my senses.

I am given journals because people know I love to write. I keep a house journal,

 an idea journal, a sketching journal, a journal about stories my parents tell, 

a journal about daily life, and have made "altered" journals ... and, ETC !

This states a good reason to journal ... or blog!

catching rays

My great grandmother always looked stern to me. Of course we know why people in those days didn't smile much––to hide their not-so-pretty teeth. I've often heard what a hard life my great grandmother had. She lost her husband early and raised a large family on her own. Her grandsons held her in highest esteem. I wish I had known her! I find this photo fascinating. Look at her shoes. Her hat, dress, etc. My take on it is that she is getting some rays (though not that much of her body is exposed) while her grandson, my uncle, sits on the porch and reads. All her grandsons read a lot. The other idea is that its a Sunday morning and they are waiting to go to church, since she's a bit dressed up and he is in a suit. I just love this little slice of life!

I read once that if elderly people spent 15-20 minutes in the sun three times a week it would reduce the number of fractured hips by 75%. Maybe she knew what she was doing, as to the best of my knowledge she never broke a bone!

still standing

I couldn't help but snap a few pictures of some glorious old houses in a small Pennsylvania town.

Some larger than others, all old, but all wonderful to my eyes.

Interesting porches seem to be a theme; they were certainly needed in the days 

before air conditioning. (These houses probably still don't have central air.)

      A feast for my eyes, taken through the car window, on a cloudy day.

Sharing today at Mary's Mosaics on Monday at Little Red House.

fit for a queen

I just got in from a family wedding out of town. Nothing could be more refreshing today than to spend a couple of hours catching up with friends as they celebrated the beginning of the "countdown to my birth day." (aside: sometimes I think birth days should be celebrated by the mothers; one time I even sent a card to my mom in that regard.) One friend, called Robin on this blog, had just returned from five weeks mostly in England and brought some Stuff (capital "S").

We ate very special, oversized cookies (made to be broken into perfect pie-shaped pieces) in a beautiful tin celebrating the queen's jubilee. We each had a royal napkin. And Robin remembered us all with a treat of Marks and Spencer organic fair trade tea.

I even calorie-splurged with a cold dark chocolate drink on this over 100 degree day ... I think my first of such deliciousness! (thanks LG!) I felt sort of like a queen. But most of all, it was just such a treat to be with dear friends. It's so much fun to grow older together.

Prinderella

Believe it or not, I won a talent contest when I was newly 17, telling the story of "Prinderella and the Cince." I stood sideways in rags or a princess gown, depending on parts of the story, interchanging consonants and acting out the punctuation. Strangely enough I can still say much of the story from memory.

Little One, now four, is into all things princess right now. It seems, at least when I'm with her, that her favorite thing is acting out the stories. Some days it's Cinderella, and other days its Rapunzel.

Of course Prinderella Cinderella always brings back memories of those long ago days. When I showed her this picture her eyes widened a bit.




The last time we babysat she was already in princess attire and ran upstairs to get the "glass slippers.""I promise, Grandma, we'll only tell it two times." (Not that I was complaining, but we have done as many as six reviews of the tale at one sitting.) And after all, this grandma gets to be: prince, gairy fodmother, stegly upsisters, the princes' courier, and sometimes mouse turned into coachman. Phew! It can be exhausting! But such a reward when the glass slipper fits! We're all smiles and twinkles in eyes!

(look how her feet have grown in a year!)

repeat performance

I do seem drawn to patterns, or repeats. I love to photograph a row of chairs, 

or that kind of thing. So here are my notecards for this month. All mosaics I 

made for past posts, and all sort of "repeats" of the same image. 

Spruced up a bit to make them a bit more like notecards.

I think they would be fun cards to write a note on.

My,  even in these you can see a trend in colors I favor! I guess I can't help myself!

You will enjoy a visit to Vee's A Haven for Vee  to view other sets of photo notecards.

summer crepes

The hotter it gets here in summer, it seems the more vibrantly the crepe myrtles bloom. 

At least they like the heat. I was struck by this scene outside the facility 

where my mother lives. Crepes are nicely framing the gazebo in a lovely pink!

Connecting to Pink Saturdays at How Sweet the Sound.

stretched

 As I lay on the stretcher, my surgeon stopped by to say hello and give me a "here we go." A scrub cap was jauntily perched on his head, and his blue scrubs were partially covered by a bright yellow rubber apron. He held two bottles of Coke and showed off his way of using the two bottles against each other to pop the lids off. A cool spray hit my face from the fizz.

When we returned to Africa for a summer, emergency surgery was not in our plans. But here I was ... my appendix apparently was acting up. Since I needed a hysterectomy, I asked him to add that to the surgery. "Two for one, or something like that." Only one recovery. But definitely faith-stretching.

There is a whole lot more to this story that I won't go into, but top in my memory is the word "peace." I was not too sick to be fearful of surgery in a small African (city) clinic ... not knowing what to expect or how my recovery would go. We had knocked on the door of the American embassy late the night before and "dashed" someone a case of coke to type and cross match my blood so we could line up potential donors if I needed blood. An older nurse among our colleagues there was going to assist the surgeon, and watch out for me afterwards. We were as ready as we could be in a rush. To this day I remember so very clearly the peace that filled me as they wheeled me under the big lights in a sterile-looking "operating theatre." I had the greatest sense of my heavenly Father carrying me in His arms to my surgery. And staying the whole time.

This week marks 25 years since that momentous experience. Tears still come when I think about the peace I felt. I often share it with friends when they go for surgery. It was tangible. It was real. It was truth.

one tomato, two tomato ....

 The abundance of tomatoes in our kitchen was amazing when I walked in from work tonight. 

Each day the Gardener harvests more. We give them away, eat them, cook them, 

and enjoy them. I think it is our best crop ever. These photos were taken at dusk. 

They are so cheery!

See Mary's Little Red House for more Monday Mosaics!

tip top toes

True confession: I've never had a pedicure. I'm behind the times. And I'm not even sure when it all got so popular. I was given a manicure gift once, and my nails stayed pretty for about a day and a half.  (Most nurses are too practical to get manicures.) I know girls go for "pedi's and mani's" as a sort of girl bonding thing, and this week my time arrived. A friend who lives in Europe, after being here a month, was heading back. Three of us decided to get pedicures before going out to to a little farewell dinner together.

I was overwhelmed by the chemical "scent" when I first entered, but soon got used to it. When the staff learned it was to my first pedicure, collectively, their mouths hung open. Really. I was much chattered about in Vietnamese. Picking the nail color was a challenge. When I went to the chair, I got the guy, the water was way too hot at first, and the remote for the chair massage thingee  kept falling on the floor. But after I settled in, I actually started to enjoy it. (I'll take a foot rub any day!) We talked and talked and laughed.

They gave me blue paper flip flops since I was wearing sandals, and I shuffled out of the shop when we were finished. Awkward. I had meant to try and find some flips at the dollar store. And when I looked for some to show off my fancy toes the next day, I realized there may be a reason I no longer wear them. I used to practically live in them. The reason is a thing called "aging."

My piggies may look a tad more fashionable than when I do my own toenails, but the jury's still out about whether I would have a second one. It is a fun thing to do with others, but its a bit pricey for me. Later we huddled in the parking lot trying to get a shot of our feet, laughing as we tried to keep our balance, while keeping our clothes out of the way and getting a good group "toe" photo. Since I told the flip-flop tale, you can guess which feet are mine, but if you hadn't heard that, as a reader of this blog, would you have been able to guess my feet by the nail color?

freedom

America:  home of the free, because of the brave.

On this record-breaking day of heat, I'm joining Mary's Little Red House for Monday Mosaics.