Joy to the World?

Troubled times, but I am mostly doing OK.

The world is in chaos, guns are a' blazing, and hope went down on the livability meter. I have written six posts since I was last on Blogger, and most were intended to be funny.  However, they were never finished and were left in my draft folder to be revisited on another day.  I also did not want to publish anything silly or meaningless during these past few weeks because of all the "Breaking News".  These have been anxious and very sad times.

In the midst of all of this, we all must live our lives, which can be dicey on its own. However, if we turn off the noise, and lift our heads up from our phones, we can see that there are still joyful surprises and kindness in this world.  The Retired Man and I experienced this last week when we had to make one of our many trips into the city (Philly) to deal with some issues in our lives. We took the 8:04 train and were flabbergasted that the car had not the usual, bland, modern seats, but rather cushy leather ones and the decor throughout was very retro. We felt that we were transported to "Back to the Future".  As we settled in, the conductor's voice came over the loudspeaker, welcoming us aboard, telling us where the train would stop, and in the most pleasant tone, told us to sit back, relax and enjoy the ride.  He spoke a few more times during the trip,  reiterating his cheerful message and thanking us for riding Septa.  This was a commuter train, not the high-priced Amtrak line and in all my many years of riding the rails, I have never been been greeted with such enthusiasm and friendliness.  I thought to myself, "Mr. Rogers lives".  It changed our whole mood and helped make our day a little brighter.  What a wonderful gift that was!  Small things, when we least expect it, can mean so much. I wish I could have thanked him.

..

Still Got It (sometimes)

Good things still happen, and I am doing OK.

I mind being old but I am grateful for being able to grow older.   There are many times when I can't believe that I am the age that defines me, but there are also times when the crappiness that comes with that age slaps me in the face.  I try to go with the flow as best I can, but frustration often over-comes me.

Last week, though, I had a moment that blew some of those years away.  While at my volunteer job, I was enjoying a conversation with a female client when one of the staff came by and complimented me on my outfit, especially my new boots.  Being noticed is definitely a plus, but being complimented, lifted my spirits tremendously.  The woman who I was speaking to previously said that she also liked how I dressed and that I was "fly".  "Fly", my gosh, I am fly!  How wonderful is that.  Of course, I did not know exactly what this term meant, but as I said, I go with the flow, and figured that it was this generation's word for cool.  I could not wait to tell The Retired Man when I got home, but he was clueless as to whether it was a compliment or not.  I then told my children who all laughed but told me my boots were, indeed, very nice. Today, I told my granddaughter, Ruby.  She smiled, and said, "You sure are, Mamama." Ruby's place in my will just moved up.

I might not be able to flit around like I did before, but I sure do like being fly - even if my wings are arthritic.
   

From Whine to Wine

Summer went by too quickly, but I am doing OK.

Other than commenting on other people's blogs, I have not been around Blogger too much this season.  I have written several entries, but have never finished any because of one reason or another. I hope to continue with my writing but I really don't want to be on a schedule. I do hope, though, that the people that I have come to like and admire will still pop in and say hello even if my posts are sporadic.

At this point of the year, I usually write about what I did on my summer vacation.  I actually did a lot, but I really don't want to bore people with a slide show.  Oh, you really want to see, you really, really want to see, well since you asked, here is a quick run through.

Best picture ever of me. My legs never looked so good.

May was a dry month, but then the flood gates opened up and the planting season started off well.  We visited many nurseries deciding what flowers we would choose.   I, as usual, chose too many.  We celebrated the late spring nights on our deck, admiring our work in the yard and toasting to the moonlit sky.  I could go on but.....

Vacation time came and we started off with a trip to the vineyards of the Finger Lakes of New York State.  It rained, except for one day. We stayed in a castle that had spigots of free fine wine in its halls for people to drink. Our suite had a hot tub that I could get in, but not get out (picture omitted). Their restaurants were lovely and with the company of good, dear friends, we had a great time.  I could go on, but ......


10 year old granddaughter looking for a wave 

When we returned home, Hubby (renamed, The Retired Man) went out to California to visit our daughter and her family for two weeks.  He had a great time and I was so happy for that.  He drank fine California wine on the beach and I drank cheap wine on my patio, except when it rained, which it did plenty in Pennsylvania.  I could go on, but ......

A mule and carriage tour of Charleston

Two days after he returned, we took off for Charleston, SC with my youngest daughter and grandson. We love the city (been there three other times) and took in many of their interesting and fun sights. If it hadn't rained so much, we could have seen more. We met up with some very dear friends in the day and had some fine wine in a lovely restaurant named Cypress in the evening.  It was a very enjoyable day.  I could go on, but ......

A horse and carriage tour of Beaufort

Relaxing our time away on Harbor Island

The next morning we were off to our destination, Harbor Island, a private island that is a preserve for birds, alligators and turtles near Beaufort, (a gem of a city).  There we met up with another daughter, her husband and our grandchildren.  They stayed in a fantastic eight bedroom house/McMansion with another family.  We had rented a condo on the beach not too far from them.  We all got together everyday and enjoyed some fine wine in the evenings when the kids were otherwise occupied. We were glad that the decks and porches had an overhang because of all the rain. I could go on, but......

We returned home and worked on the gardens.  The flowers were enormous and beautiful and the  tomatoes were (are) large and plentiful because of the rain.  On Labor Day, we went to a local vineyard that has an annual festival at the end of the summer and drank semi-fine wine.  We had a wonderful time enjoying good music with the company of  very dear old friends. It did not rain.

I could go on, but ...... I already did.

.

No Phone Zone

The best days of summer are here, and I am doing OK.

It is warm and wonderful and the perfect time to enjoy an ice cream treat. On these lovely evenings, with the sun still high in the sky and the air being pleasant, there is nothing nicer than visiting the local dairy bar. The other day, after hours of trimming overgrown bushes, hubby and I decided that we deserved a reward, so off we went to our town's little piece of heaven.  There must have been about 40 gourmet flavors to choose from and we took a long time staring at the various selections before making our most difficult decision of the week.   As we sat outside on a picnic table devouring our luscious, frozen delicacies, we watched the steady stream of customers coming by with friends and family to also take advantage of the lovely August night. What I noticed was that this was a place where no one had their phones out.  Everybody was talking to each other face to face.  Children were laughing and playing rather than checking social media.  All it takes to really connect people is a cone of melting double dip ice cream.

An Old Woman's Thoughts

Tired but OK.

Love is easy, hate is hard.  Why would one want to do what's difficult?

Again

Another gun day in America, and we are not OK

Our innocence was lost at Columbine; our hearts were broken in Sandy Hook; our faith was shattered in Charleston - and the beat goes on.

 When I look at the picture of that young man who did the most despicable act in that beautiful city in South Carolina, I wonder how such evil could come from such a boy of 21 years.  Where did he learn such hate and bigotry to want to destroy the lives of innocent people who took his hand to pray.  Where was his humanity?  Were there no parents or family to teach him kindness and love or was his soul blackened from the moment he was born?  I do not understand hate; I do not understand the violence we all face in today's supposedly civilized world; I do not understand that no matter how many times these awful acts happen in our country, there is only talk, but no action.

Father's Day is Sunday.  I do believe that this man learned to hate from someone.  What we teach our children can be passed down for generations.  If we can't stop the guns, maybe we can stop the hostile attitude that prevails, whether it is silent in our hearts or more open in our actions.  Times won't change unless we do.

It is Never Too Late to Become an Entrepreneur

Sharing my days with hubby and doing OK.

The Inspector (aka, Hubby) retired last week and, so far, things are going (sort of) fine.  It is day three and I have faith (and hope) things will continue this way for at least another week.   The actuarial tables, however, tell us that we can live this life of 24/7 togetherness for 25+ more years (which in retirement years, could feel like 50)  Hmmm, no one warned me about this before I said, "I do."  Trying to be positive, I  checked the Internet for some ideas on how we should deal with this new phase of life.  Articles suggested that other than the usual route of volunteering, watching grandchildren, going on cruises, or complaining about everything, it is also a good time to start a new career. Now, they say, may be the right time to try out that great idea you had but didn't do because of the responsibilities you had when you were younger.  Unfortunately, it might be too late to become a rap artist or acrobat.

The other day, I read in our local paper about an elderly gentleman who was living in an assisted living facility and was still able to become an entrepreneur even at his late stage of life. The rent at the home was subsidized by the county so he had some of his pension money left at the end of the month to invest in a business.  Somehow, he was able to leave the premises and walk to a local liquor store.  When he returned, he sold drinks to the other residents. With the profit, he hired prostitutes to visit and entertain him in his room.  Unfortunately, things came crashing down when one of his ladies was found hiding under his bed.   His new career came to a quick halt and he was asked to leave the home.  Apparently, he was not as disabled as they thought.  I am wondering what his third act will be.  Maybe he could start up his own hedge fund as he seems to like risky business. 

Well, at least he has his memories, or maybe not.

A Hairy Post

Together forever, and doing OK (sometimes).

Over the years, I have lived on and off with a hairy man.  This thing about wanting follicles wherever they can grow possibly has to do with that small part of the male brain that has not evolved from the time homo sapiens first stood upright.  Women, being on the faster tract of civilization and fashion, decided that if men wanted to mate, they had to nix some of that hair and start to smell nice.  Women also wanted them to put on pants.  Shirts, for men under 30, were optional.  Men, feeling warmer with animal skins and wool sweaters, gradually gave into the female's demands due to the human species needing to survive.  However, some hair on the face, in different styles, has remained part of the masculine need to howl with the wolf and to show their dominating force of virility.  We women have accepted it, loved, and hated it, but mostly put up with it.

Hubby would grow a manly beard in winter when he was young.  I didn't complain too much.  I knew he was vain and as soon as the spring sun would shine, his need for a perfect tan would take over and then the shaver would be used.  In the past fifteen or so years, he has remained clean faced.  Last November, though, he started sprouting stubble again.  It grew into a beautiful white beard, always neatly trimmed and looking impeccable. He looked younger, more sophisticated and like a member of Mensa.  He might have even grown an inch.  Yeah, I love the look of my manly old man.  Some things do improve with age!

Nesters

Bird watching and doing OK.

I have not written two posts in one week in a very long time, but when my hubby showed me some pictures of the hatching of some new eaglets in Hanover, PA, I wanted to share.  Though no longer on the endangered species list, the Bald Eagle is a rarity to see in many areas.  This serene bird, the symbol of the USA, is a magnificent sight and when the nesters were spotted, camera crews went to work.   For 35 days theses birds sat on eggs while millions watched their every little move. There is no privacy in Birdland ( I am sure the NSA and Google were also hiding in the trees). This particular pair are comprised of a 12 year old female who lost her mate in 2012 and a much younger male who, according to those that know, is a first time dad.  It takes between 24 and 48 hours for the chicks to peck their way out of their shell.  I like that the kids are given responsibility from the beginning.  Baby # 1 arrived on March 24th and the lazier one on the 25th.  Mom, dad and babes are doing fine. 

I am wondering which is the male and which is the female.  One seems a little clueless.

The chicks will start flying in June but will hang out at home till December.  Then they are off to see the world.  At least, that is the parent's plan. 



All I Needed Was A Flower Show

The snow is gone, and I am doing OK.

Last week was the end of winter in my part of the world,  at least that is what I have decided.   My hubby saw some tulip greens sticking out of the ever decreasing snow piles (which have now disappeared), so I am sure Mother Nature is lifting her frozen wand and trading it in for the greener model.  That is my hope and she better not cross me. 

A few weeks ago, in order to get myself psyched, I put on my pretty pants, grabbed my daughter and granddaughter and off we went to the Philadelphia Flower Show.  This is the largest indoor flower show in the US and is usually attended by what seems to be half the country's population. We waited till the last day, hoping that the crowds would be less, and by mid-afternoon that seemed to be the case.  Instead of shuffling, we could actually take steps and get to the front of all the fabulous displays.  This year the theme was Disney movies (or similar) and they did a magnificent job, which is usually the case

We followed the masses through the entrance.

We passed by the  Little Green House

Found "Nemo" and Dorrie

Crashed  "Cinderella's" wedding

and spied her slipper

Marveled at the exotic sights from  "Mulan"

Stopped to check out some "Cars"

Saw that "Aladdin" was not  home

  And went "Into the Woods.

and saw spring



Crying Uncle

I am doing OK, but poor Miss Circle has had it. 





















Miss T and Vanna aren't doing much better.

 

And Marilyn is just pissed.

 

 

They say Spring is just around the corner, so girls and boys, and cats and dogs, we all have to buckle up and

we gotta Believe!

 

 

"Just remember in the winter, for beneath the bitter snow

Lies the seed, that with the sun's love, in the spring becomes a rose."

(The Rose, by Amanda McBroom)

 

 

Inconveniences

I slipped down some stairs a few weeks ago, but I am doing OK.


I got up this morning but my feet did not want to do the same.  They seemed to want to remain asleep and not be the wheels of my day.  I insisted, so they begrudgingly obliged.   They have been doing this a lot lately but come to life in a matter of minutes after I get my motor running. It is no big deal and I have decided to put this inconvenience in the column of my life under the title, "the crap I have to put up with".

I looked up some quotes from people much smarter than myself and their take on aging.  None of these are too deep, and they did put a smile on my face.

"We get too old quick, too late smart"
Old Dutch proverb

- Yep, we have all made mistakes.  Lessons learned are to be cherished, even if they hurt.  It has taken me a lifetime to become this brilliant.
A

"The age of a woman does not matter, the best tunes are played on the oldest fiddles."
Ralph Waldo Emerson.-

-  I have more time to listen, and have experienced some of the sweetest music.  I am just hoping that my strings don't snap.
A

"Someday you will be old enough to start reading fairy tales again."
C.S . Lewis

 - I have been married 47 years.  On the other hand, I have been married 47 years. I will never go back to innocence.  I grew up reading the Grim Fairy Tales, now it is all about 50 Shades of Grey.  I can't relate to either.
A

"Age is not a particular interesting subject; anyone can get old.  All you have to do is live long enough"
Groucho Marx

- I will answer with Groucho's own line. "Time flies like an arrow; Fruit flies like a banana.
G

Simply said, but it is about making the most of the moments you have and always, always,  watch your step.

Aah, Life

The blizzard of the century never came here, and I am doing OK.

There are different phases of life that we all pass through.  There is childhood,  followed by the joys and angst of coming of age, which leads us to an awakening with great expectations. Slowly, though, we creep into a sometimes begrudging acceptance, but this is replaced by a new awakening, and then back  to (a comfy) acceptance of most of the things that have annoyed us in the past. I have gone through them all with laughter and tears and have now arrived at a new stage of life.  Yes, I have entered my grunting years.

Recent examples:
Getting up from a sitting position. = 2 grunts.
Getting off the floor = 5 grunts (7 if the temperature is over 80 degrees F)
Sitting down after some activity  = 1 aah and 2 grunts
Sitting down in a deep chair = 3 grunts followed by a loud aah
Answering a question I answered 5 minutes ago  = one loud sigh and 2 grunts
Answering that question again  = 3 very loud grunts followed by feeling guilty
Opening a bottle or jar that now seems to be sealed with crazy glue = 6 grunts and some nasty words

The lowly grunt has its place and I have accepted it as part of my life.  It is good to still be heard.

Foodie

New year, old me, and I'm doing OK.

I never tasted a Cronut, but I did imagine one in my mind.  It was yummy even there.

Quinoa is OK, and some recipes can make it quite tasty, but I hope it isn't part of my last meal.

My mother made me sit at the table until I ate my kale.  I would be there for hours because I could not get the dog to eat it.

Today, people take pictures of their food.  I have made food that has looked fantastic, but has tasted awful. A brussel sprouts casserole comes to mind.  My husband told me that the vegetable made even the bacon in it taste bad.  On the other hand, I have prepared some pretty good dishes that were not visionary masterpieces.

It is winter.  It is cold. There is snow on the ground.  I need to bake.  There will be sugar consumed.  It is not healthy.  Nobody lives forever.

You Are A Mean One, Mr. Grinch.

Less than a week 'till Christmas and I am doing OK.

A nearby village, that for a few decades had gone through difficult times, reinvented itself and its image to become a go-to place for people in the area.  It had once been a steel town and people were employed and prosperous there for generations.  In the seventies that all changed when the foundry closed and the jobs went away. Around the year 2000, the town fathers and mothers decided to come up with a plan to turn things around and bring new life to the often empty storefronts and streets.  The old movie theater that was built in 1906, was restored and remodeled by volunteers and now shows wonderful indie movies and hosts many musical and comedy acts.  Entrepreneurs saw the foot traffic and opened restaurants which brought others to invest in interesting shops along the walkway.  The town is alive again and festivities are held almost every weekend for people of all ages to enjoy.

During this season of light and hope, the kickoff for the holidays is the Firebird Festival, where a structure symbolizing the Phoenix that has risen through the ashes and is reborn is celebrated.  A local artist and a large band of volunteers give of their time for a few months to build this bird and it is always a fabulous sight.   Thousands come to town to see it's lighting and it is just as important to the spirit of the people of this once dying town as it is to its economy.


Then, in the dark hours of the early morning, on the day of this celebration this year, a sneaky Grinch came to town and burned the Phoenix down. 

"The Grinch hated Christmas!  The whole Christmas season!
Now please don't ask why. No one quite knows the reason.

It could be, perhaps, that his shoes were too tight.
It could be his head wasn't screwed on just right. 

But I think that the most likely reason of all
May have been that his heart was two sizes too small.
(Dr. Seuss).

Through social media, the news spread quickly.  Hundreds of townspeople quickly gathered at the site, bringing wood and tools and the rebuilding began within hours. No, it was not the bird that it had been, it was better.  It was the heart of the people who brought the Phoenix back to life and on that evening all those from our Whoville, assembled and celebrated and sang.  The flames lit up the sky and their spirit was renewed, once again.

"That's a noise" grinned the Grinch, "that I simply must hear!"
He paused, and the Grinch put a hand to his ear.

Every Who down in Whoville, the tall and the small
Was singing without any presents at all!

And the Grinch, with his Grinch feet ice cold in the snow,
Stood puzzling and puzzling,.  "How could it be so?"
(Dr. Seuss)

 The celebration went on, the night was more appreciated, and the grinch who thought that he had stolen the night, didn't. 

However you celebrate the holidays, I wish you joy and contentment and for love to surround you. Keep your spirits high and look for the good in everyone - even a Grinch, because perhaps, he needs hope most of all.

Adult Attention Deficit Disorder and Me

Holidays are almost here, and I have slowed down but I am doing OK.

I used to pride myself on being disciplined and no matter what the odds, you could count on me to get things done. Now, it is not so much.  I need more time to accomplish tasks and in this mañana time of my life, timetables are never thought about and I often get distracted doing the simplest of things. The "I have to do", list has become "I'll get to that another time".  I have lost my focus and my need to "ACCOMPLISH".  Getting from A to B usually has me stopping often and checking out other things that catch my fancy.  Last week, while cleaning out items in my basement to make room for outside furniture, I found myself, instead, looking through old photo albums and reading journals that had been packed away.   The chairs I planned to bring in are still outside.  This week I have company coming and there is much to do. I have good intentions and I know that all the important items, like Thanksgiving dinner, will get done (fingers crossed).  Other things will be attempted, probably done or possibly not, but I will be forgiven.  They all know that the old grey mare ain't what she used to be and they will be OK with that. Others will bring the desserts, so if the turkey isn't quite finished, we can live on pumpkin pie and fine wine.

 

It isn't always easy to get to the finish line. 

This video is not in English, but dogs speak all languages with their eyes and their tails.

Boo

 

I bought my favorite candies for the little Trick or Treaters (+1) and I am doing OK.

I do not believe in ghosts or poltergeists or things that go bump in the night. Nope, not me.  I am sensible and believe there is a reason for everything. Practical Arleen, that is who I am.

There are those moments though.

  -  On a Sunday morning 11 years ago,  I received an IM from a dear friend who had passed away the day before.  Her name popped up on my computer and the message was just 10 numbers. I could not believe my eyes and stared in shock at the screen  I called for my husband to see it and we tried to figure out what we were looking at and what did it mean.  My friend lived alone and there was no one who could get on her account.  There had to be an explanation, but we never came up with one. And the numbers, well, we have never figured a meaning to those either. 

  -  Then there was that incident 12 years ago, shortly after my parents passed away (within 7 months of each other).   My sister  lived in their house and one night, as she lay sleeping, she heard my mother's voice call her name over and over.  It was so loud in her head that it woke her up.  She then heard a noise in the kitchen and quickly ran to it.  A fire had just started in the old heater.  She was able to get it out quickly but had it been a few moments later, it would have been too late. 

  -  My mother would often say that if there was such a thing as reincarnation, she would want to come back as a large bird and fly over all who annoyed her in life and poop on their heads.  After her funeral, the family gathered at her home.  As we all sat out in her garden speaking of memories and times gone by, Hubby came walking from the backyard and yelled that some big dirty bird let it all go on his head.  Funny, I always thought Mom liked him.

I will leave you with this one last tale.

  - A story was told on radio news last week about a British lady who had passed away.  This woman was known to be a phonoholic and so when she was being laid to rest, loved ones put her cellphone in her casket. Her granddaughter, seeking comfort, would, on occasion, send her texts.  One day, she was shocked when she received a reply.  It said, "I am watching over you".  Before you strike up the theme of The Twilight Zone in your head, I will tell you it was not the deceased who came a'calling.  Her batteries were definitely out. What it was is that relatives had closed her account  after her demise and the phone number was put back into circulation. The new owner had received these messages from the distraught survivor and decided to answer, thinking someone was pranking him.  The family was upset, but I do hope they all had a good laugh afterwards.  It certainly gave a lot of people a chuckle, including me.

Voices from beyond?  Nah, they were just computer glitches and coincidences. I do not believe in ghosts or poltergeists or things that go bump in the night.  Nope, not me.  I am sensible and believe there is a reason for everything.  Practical Arleen, that is who I am.

Please Look At The Dot

I should be out raking up leaves, but I am hoping they will eventually blow onto my neighbor's lawn and that will be OK (for me).

Last week, I accompanied hubby to get his once every four years driver's license renewal.  The lines are usually long and one could possibly spend hours sitting in the hard chairs getting hemorrhoids while waiting for their number to come up.  I walked in and was pleasantly surprised at the size of the crowd.  Rather than what I expected, I saw only about 50 or so souls who were totally engrossed in their smart phones. Nobody spoke to each other, because communication is now done by text, not talk.   Everything went along quickly and we were out of there in record time. 

A few years ago, when I first started this blog, I wrote about my experience at the Driving License Center.  It did not involve taking any test, it was just to have my picture taken.   Here is a rerun of that post.


Is this photo OK ma'am?
Every four years you have to renew your driver's license.   This is never a pleasant experience because as much as you hated your last picture, this one will be even worse.  Aging does not usually improve a person's appearance unless, of course, you are under 30. That expression  "you are not getting older, you are getting better" does not include the chin area.  Anyhow, around your birthday you get that letter to report for your latest mug shot which you will be identified by for the next  few years . You try to get there early before the bags under your eyes set in.  However, everybody else has the same plan, so you end up standing up against a wall for an hour or two because seating is limited, and then that look of fatigue takes over your face.  Finally you get called and you are told to sit in this very low chair, look straight ahead at the circle, and snap, the deed is done.  Five minutes later you receive your new, not improved, license to drive.

This was my year to do the deed. I prepared by getting a hair cut, but that didn't turn out well.  I kept up with my moisturizing and used some facial tanning lotion to hide my maturity spots.  I brushed my teeth with super-whitening toothpaste and practiced smiling in front of the mirror.  None of this helped.  My new license picture showed what I looked like, rather than how I saw myself,  but I figure that in four years, I will be more objective and think it was quite flattering.  There are some blessings to failing eyesight.

On another note, while I stood waiting at the DMV to be called for my photo,  I made some observations.  I noticed that most of the younger people were busy on their smart phones texting,  They were probably typing in, "I am getting my driver's license, so it's time to part-tee"  to their 300 friends on Facebook.  Other people waiting included  a man with one leg, a man in a wheelchair, a man on oxygen, quite a few older folks with walkers or canes and people complaining.  My conclusion was that there are probably many cars out there on the bad roads of Pennsylvania being driven by texting teenagers, senior citizens with handicaps and those ticked off and suffering from road rage with their hand outstretched and their finger pointed upward, all following me.

Be careful out there, better yet, take a train.

Closing Another Chapter

The cool winds are blowing, a new season is upon us, and I am doing OK.

It was a magnificent summer with wonderful sunny days, pleasant temperatures and almost enough rain to water my plants and keep them healthy.  I was so grateful for all the beautiful days that we had and all the blessings that it brought. 

There was flower power in May.

I started out choosing the colors that would surround me.  I always tend to select the purples, salmons and whites, but this year, more reds found their way into my gardens.

I was so relieved to see that even though we lost more than a few trees last winter because of the horrendous weather, my woods still look lush and beautiful.  Everything has its time and as with life, new will replace the old.

In June, the family all got together and we went crazy.




In July, we visited friends and enjoyed sitting on their porch watching the sun come down on the lake.

At home, the local Shakespeare company came to town and presented Twelfth Night, performed with a Johnny Cash-like character and some music from from The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly thrown in the mix.  It was interesting and surprisingly fun.  Ardent fans of the Bard of Avon might have been offended, but I loved it.  Willie reinvented! 

One of the proudest moments of my life came in August when my 14 year old grandson was chosen to throw out the first ball at a Philadelphia Phillies game.   He showed no nerves, but his grandmother was shaking all over.  He was good luck for the team, as the last place Phillies won that night. 

August was harvest time and boy, did my tomato plants produce! Most days, I could pick at least 25 large, beautiful fruit. They were and are delish, but there comes a point where your acid intake makes your innards rebel. Friends, family and the local food bank benefited from my stomach problems.

During the summer, we had our semi-feral cat (Miss Circle) guarding our gardens (and the finch feeder).  She does not think the birds will see her.

 

 

And then three new baby kittens came out of the woods led by their tramp of a mother. (We found homes for all, except the mom who we could not catch).

 

 



We never got away this year to exotic resorts, nor did we travel to exciting cities.  We stayed mostly at home enjoying the company of people we love and savoring these moments in our lives.  It was comfortable.  

This summer was a gift and I just love living in the green hills and valleys of Pennsylvania.  I look forward to the next season and will be fine until winter arrives.  If it is anything like last year, I hope to be out of here in a quick minute.  There is no place like home, when things are good.

Oh Momma

I refuse to accept that summer is (almost) over, and I am doing OK.

I am always saddened to hear stories where parents and children do not get along.  Sure, we all have disagreements and frustrations, but we usually make it through because there is need and love.  I think that most people do their best at parenthood and even though we all make mistakes and are not perfect, our hearts are usually in the right place.

My mom came from the "greatest generation".  She was born during the First World War, lived through the terrible depression, lost her mother as a teenager,  and contracted TB while pregnant with my older sister.  She never talked about those times; they were things we learned mostly from other relatives.  Her health was always iffy, but somehow she lived into her eighties.  I remember always worrying about losing her.  However, maybe because of her difficulties or in spite of them, she had the most wonderful sense of humor.  She had a quick wit, and the times I remember best were when all the family gathered together and the house was full of laughter.  Despite all the troubles in their lives,  the stories they would tell were happy.  A picture in my mind is of them all sitting around the kitchen table slapping their knees as they laughed hysterically over some small matter.

She has been gone 13 years now, but it often seems like she is always with me.  I see her eyes in my daughter and granddaughter, and I remember her smile when I look at things that I know that she would love.  She was a kind woman, a strict parent (most were in those days), and knew no bounds when it came to love.  She was a good teacher for us all.

When my parents died (seven months apart), we cleaned out the house and disposed of much of their possessions.  However, she was a collector of notes, letters, cards and inspirational writings that she would find.  Many of these we could not part with.  Recently, my sister came across something that she had kept.  I think I remember it sticking in the corner of her mirror in her bedroom or maybe on her dresser.

Here it is and it is something that is appropriate for my time in life.
 

A Prayer For Those Growing Old
(author unknown)

Lord, Thou knowest I am growing older

Keep me from becoming talkative and possessed
with the idea that I must express myself on
every subject.

Release me from the craving to straighten out
everyone's affairs.

Keep me from the recital of endless detail.  Give
me wings to get to the point.

Seal my lips when I am inclined to tell of my
aches and pains.  They are increasing with the
years and my love to speak of them grows
sweeter as time goes by.

Teach me the glorious lesson that occasionally
I may be wrong.  Make me thoughtful but not
nosey; helpful, but not bossy.  With my vast
store of wisdom and experience it does seem a
pity not to use it all.  But Thou knowest, Lord,
that I want a few friends at the end.

My mom is still teaching me and making me smile.

The Key to Happiness

Our summer weather has been outstanding and I am doing OK.

There are millions of studies costing billions of dollars being done by people, reportedly experts, who research things that most times a person of ordinary intelligence can figure out just by living life.   Last week another one came out saying, "The formula for happiness is to have low expectations." They even took the time to show us a mathematical equation proving this.  I wanted to recreate it for this  post,  but it was difficult and they told me not to set my sights too high or I would be miserable.

I think that I am like so many people who are happier when we have great expectations, no matter how it may turn out.  Happiness and disappointments come and go, but the joy of possibilities is the greatest thrill of all. I wouldn't want to have missed out on any of them.

So said Christopher Columbus, Edmund Hillary, Leif Erickson, Marco Polo, Neil Armstrong and all those other not-famous people who followed their stars no matter how rough the course might have been.  To paraphrase a famous quote  - the journey teaches you more than the destination.

I will continue to find laughter in my disappointments because it is how I cope  and I will never give up my anticipation of joy, no matter what the PHD's say.